Southern Heartbreaker (Charleston Heat 4)

“Mason is one of Montgomery Partner’s largest investors,” Ford explains. “Great to see you, man.”

“Great to see you too,” Mason says, although judging by the red flush creeping up his neck, he’s not as thrilled as he says he is.

I manage to pull Alex aside while Ford and Mason talk shop.

“Is that who I think it is?” I ask.

Alex is blushing now, too. “Hm?”

“Gorgeous grump. That’s gotta be him. He’s gorgeous. He’s grumpy. When the hell did you two start dating?”

“It’s—um—new,” she replies, not meeting my eyes.

“But I thought you hated him.”

She cuts a glance in his direction. “You know what they say about love and hate.”

I have about a million more questions to ask, but then Ford is asking our little circle if they want mimosas, and I’m pulled back into the madness.

This is overwhelming. In the best possible way.

Mom makes a beeline for Bryce, holding her on her hip while I sign a million and a half books. The two of them have really taken to each other; they love spending time together. Love it. Mom’s taught Bryce how to make her Mexican recipes, and Bryce has taught Mom all about Dora the Explorer, unicorns, and play dough.

Playing the role of grandparent has really made my mom light up. Seeing her so happy has made me light up. Even my dad has some extra pep in his step when he’s around us these days.

Even better? Having my own family has made me that much more patient—that much more appreciative—of the family I came from. It’s also helped me keep some healthy boundaries in place.

I won’t say things between my parents have gotten better or worse. Tough to tell, because Mom and I don’t talk about it anymore. But I do know my Mom has started seeing a therapist regularly, which is definitely a step in the right direction.

I also featured her a lot in my new book. When she read the dedication—it was to her, of course—she cried. I can tell it gave her a much needed boost of pride in all the hard work she did raising a family. Work that went unsung for way too long.

I’m proud of my relationships with the people I love.

I’m proud of all the work I’ve done to get to this place.

Is my life perfect? Hell no. I have my moments. I lose my shit. I make mistakes. I’ve learned there is no mastering a work/life balance. That some days you kill it and others you stumble. You just do your best, day in and day out, and give yourself grace when you mess up.

But I still love it. I’m chasing down all my dreams. Ones I’ve had forever, and new ones, too.

And I get to chase them down alongside Ford. I can’t help but feel like his unconditional love and support has made me blossom in ways I never could’ve imagined.

I only stop signing when we run out of books. Ford, being the rock star he is, has stocked the bar with a couple kegs and some snacks made by none other than Elijah Jackson. The signing morphs into a party in ten seconds flat.

It just might be the best party I’ve ever been to. All my favorite people in one place. Summer sunshine outside, cold beer in my hand, Bryce’s arms wrapped around my waist. Ford’s eyes on me from across the room.

He’s always looking out for me. Always ogling me like the horny teenager he was when I first fell for him all those years ago.

Talking to my friends and family—hearing how much they loved the arroz con pollo, or how they made Mom’s grits casserole for a friend who had a baby—recipes that I grew up on, that I loved, too—fills me with a gut-deep sense of joy.

It also makes me want to cry.

Ford must sense I’m on the verge, because he’s suddenly at my side. Lifting Bryce onto his hip with one arm, he slips the other around my waist and pulls me against him. Pressing a quick, hot kiss into my neck.

“Tired? Should we hit the road?” he asks, his breath warm on my skin.

I shake my head, offering him a tight smile. “I’m just so proud, you know? Proud of how today went. Proud of the book, and the fact that I persevered and stuck with it even when I had no clue where it was going.” I meet his eyes. “Proud of us and what we’re building together.”

He gives my side a squeeze. A pulse of heat ignites low in my core and stays there. “I’m proud of us too, E. The past year has been the best of my life. I mean that.”

“The best,” Bryce says. “Eva, you write the best books and make the best pizza I’ve ever tasted.”

Ford grins. “Who knew the frozen stuff tasted so good?”