Southern Pleasure (Southern Heart 1)

“It turned out better than I expected,” she confesses.

My hand is still cupping her cheek and I know it’s all kinds of wrong. I run my thumb across her cheek and reluctantly release my hold on her. I can’t bring her into all this drama. She deserves nothing but the best, more than what I could give her. Not to mention, I’m sure my best friend would kick my ass if I tried to date his sister. I just need to learn to control my hormones when I’m alone with her.

“I’m glad you went with white furniture.”

Sitting up, she leans against the headboard. “Yeah, with the white trim and the color of the walls, it’s really going to stand out. I can’t wait until you get it all put together.”

I groan at the thought. “I’ll start on it this weekend.” I know she’s itching to decorate now that the painting is done.

“Good. I’ll tell Aaron he has to come help. Between the three of us, we should be able to whip it out in no time.”

“You’ve done enough,” I tell her.

“This is my project, mister. No way am I missing it.”

“What time did you finish?”

Blinking, she looks down at her phone. “About an hour ago. Sorry I dozed off.” I can barely see the tint of red coloring her face from the small amount of light in the room.

“Have you eaten?” My guess is she worked all day to get the room completed.

Her belly growls, not giving her time to answer. “All right then. Let me grab a quick shower and we can go grab something to eat.” I stand from the bed.

“Deal.” Her grin turns into a yawn as she stretches her arms above her head. The t-shirt she’s wearing lifts and shows her toned stomach. I force my eyes to close and turn away from her. I busy myself with pulling clean clothes out of my dresser.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Good, I’m starving. I’m going to go check out my mad painting skills. I’ll wait downstairs.”

I hear her climb off the bed, her feet hit the floor, and the click of my bedroom door as she closes it behind her. I exhale a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I’ve got to get my shit together.

I rush through my shower and meet Kinley downstairs in less than fifteen minutes. “What are you in the mood for?” I ask, shoving my wallet and my phone in my pocket.

“I’m open to anything; just nothing that’s going to take forever.”

“I think I can manage that.”

The drive into town is filled with talk of furniture assembly and decorating ideas. The pressure I feel when I think about all that needs to be done before my daughter arrives lessens the more Kinley talks. She’s willing to take the lead and I’m letting her. I want to be involved, but shit, I’m in over my head. I’m scared to death for my kid.

We find ourselves at Subway. “Great choice,” Kinley says as she takes the first big bite of her meatball sub. She’s refreshing. She’s never afraid to speak her mind or be herself. Most girls order a salad and pick at it. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve known her all my life, or if it’s because she’s really just that girl—confident and sure. I’m going to go with the latter.

“So, I’m thinking about going to visit my parents and grandparents before the baby comes.”

“That’s a great idea. I’m sure you miss them. How’s your dad doing?”

Misty never once asked how my father was. I never realized how disconnected we really were, until now. “Same. Mom says he started a new chemo. So far, he seems to be adjusting to it well.”

“When were you thinking of going to see them?”

“In a few weeks. I have a lot to do before the baby gets here, but I need to see them, you know?”

“You should go. Family is important,” she says.

“Yeah. I think I’ll fly. It will give me more time with them. I don’t see them coming back here any time soon. Dad really likes his oncologist.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to be away from them, especially with all the changes going on in your life.”