Southern Pleasure (Southern Heart 1)

This causes Dr. Combs to laugh. “That’s usually the reaction I get from first-time parents.” He smiles at me and glances at Misty.

“It’s his baby. I’m signing my rights over as soon as it’s born,” she blurts out.

Dr. Combs doesn’t comment. He just nods in understanding as he places the Doppler back in the drawer. The room is silent as he measures her belly and asks a few questions about morning sickness and diet. “Everything looks good. We’ll see you back here in a month. You can make your appointment on the way out.” He then turns to look at me. “Do you have any questions?” Seems he understands all too well that Misty wants no part of this.

“Honestly, I’m too . . . overwhelmed,” I say. “Maybe after I wrap my head around this; after it sinks in. I just found out a couple of hours ago.”

Dr. Combs nods again, letting me know he understands. “Well, call anytime. We’ll see you all in four weeks.” With that, he grabs his laptop and flees the room.

The ride back to my place is silent. I have nothing to say to her that’s nice, and I’m scared as hell if I piss her off she’ll go back on her word. I park in front of the garage and turn off the engine. “So what can I do? Do you need clothes? Money?” I ask. I plan to hold up my end of the deal.

“Not yet. I’m good.” She wrings her hands together in her lap. “I guess I’ll see you later.” She reaches for the handle.

“Wait!” I grab her wrist gently. “I want to be there for all of it. You need me, you let me know. I think we should get together a couple times a week and have dinner or something. Keep in contact.” I sound desperate, but I don’t give a fuck. I need to stay front and center. I don’t want to miss a minute of this even though we are no longer together.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Call me,” she says as she jumps from the truck and briskly walks to her car. I stare after her, watching as she drives down the lane. My ringing cell phone startles me. Looking down, I see it’s Mr. Fields on the caller ID.

Perfect.

I’m officially a college graduate. I’ve enjoyed my reign at the University of Miami, but there’s no place like home. I wanted to go away to school, see how the rest of the world lived outside the state of Kentucky. I experienced it, and I’m glad I did, but it’s so damn good to be home. Aaron, my older brother by two years, is supposed to be picking me up from the airport. Our parents are in Tennessee for a cattle sale. Mom called three times offering to cancel, but I assured her it’s fine. I’ve lived away from home for four years. I think Aaron and I can keep the house standing for a few days on our own. I am twenty-two after all.

As I’m standing in baggage claim, I pull my cell phone out of my purse and turn it on. A text comes through from Aaron.

Aaron: Hey, running a few minutes late. Got caught up in traffic.

I smile to myself. Aaron hates to be late for anything, so I know this is killing him. He’s just like our father: always prepared and always on time. Both take their time and think things through, never making a rash decision. Me, I’m more like our mother. We live with our heart on our sleeves—often times volunteering and taking on too much just to help others. Not that Dad and Aaron aren’t up for helping others, it’s just they know when to say no. Mom and I, on the other hand, not so much. In college, I don’t know how many times I’d gotten roped into helping with events around campus when I had my own projects and studying to do. Part of that could have been my roommate, Lisa’s fault. She could be very persuasive.

Tapping my foot impatiently, I watch as bags roll by, looking for mine. I only checked one, plus I have my carry-on. I shipped the rest here. I only kept what I needed to get me by the last couple of days. Lisa and I shared an apartment. She’s an Alabama girl, and just like me, more than ready to go home. I’m going to miss her like crazy, but after being roommates and best friends for the past four years, I know we’ve formed an incredible bond and will stay in touch. It was hard to say goodbye, but then it always is.

Finally, I spot my bag and heave it off the conveyor. That’s when I hear my name being yelled from behind me. Turning to search for the source, I see him. Aaron is running toward me with a big-ass grin on his face. Knowing he’s about to tackle me, I release the handle of my suitcase and let my carry-on and purse drop to the floor just in time for Aaron to wrap his hulking arms around me.

“I missed you, little sister,” he says as he hugs me tight.

I can’t breathe, so forming words isn’t possible. I wait until he releases me to respond. “I missed you too. Took you long enough.” I elbow him lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles good-naturedly.

I love teasing him; it’s just too easy.

“Let’s get out of here.” Aaron reaches for my carry-on, hands me my purse, and then grabs my large suitcase. I don’t bother to protest, as I know it won’t do any good. Mom and Dad raised him right. He’s going to make one hell of a husband one day, for multiple reasons. First of all, it’s the truth; second, I just like to wind him up. Aaron is a thinker. He processes everything, including who he dates. He doesn’t see the point in dating someone who he cannot see himself spending the rest of his life with. If he’s not feeling it, he ends it. Only problem is, how is he ever going to get to know someone? Mom and I both have tried to explain this, but he’s too damn stubborn. When he does fall, it’s going to be hard and I’m going to enjoy every single second of watching him flounder around in unchartered seas.

I follow along behind him, expecting him to lead me to his old beat up ford. Instead, we’re standing in front of a brand-new, shiny Ford F-350 four-door beast. I’m sure there is a more technical name for it, but it’s freaking huge, so beast it is. “This thing is huge!”

“I know, right?” He grins at me. “Just picked it up last week. I decided to retire the other one.”

“It’s about time. You’ve been driving that same old beat-up truck since you were sixteen.”

“Yeah, and with me taking over the farm, I can’t depend on borrowing Dad’s all the time.” He shrugs. “It was time to man up and get my own. One that could actually pull the horse trailer up the hills and not take six days to do it.” We both laugh at that. My brother is frugal to a fault. He’s not one to need shiny new toys. He can afford it, as he’s a partner in the farm with my parents, but you would never know it. He’s modest and so much like our father.

“How’s that going?” I ask.

“Good. Papers are drawn up. I’ve asked them both a million times if they’re sure they are ready to pass it on, and they both agree it’s time. Dad says he wants to relax and watch me sweat,” he laughs.

“It’s hard work, Aaron. I know you love the farm, but you’ve seen the long hours Dad had to put in. You sure this is what you want? No one would judge you if you didn’t.” I ask the question, even though I already know the answer. A resounding yes. Our family farm is in his blood, and it’s always been his dream to take it over. His best friend’s family owns the farm that runs parallel to ours. He and Evan have been friends for as long as I can remember and have always talked about taking over and working together.

“Yes!” he says emphatically and I grin. I know my brother.

“So what about Evan? How is he? How’s his dad?”