Southern Player Read online

  No one is going to get hurt. Not on my watch.

  If anything, I hope Luke takes my proposition as a compliment. Which it is, in my mind at least. I’m only asking him because he’s a good guy, and he’s trustworthy, and cute, and funny, and confident, and ridiculously hot…

  And he doesn’t want forever. So I’m not asking something of him he doesn’t want to give. I wouldn’t be preoccupied with making him stick around. Because for once, that’s not the goal.

  Luke and I clearly have chemistry. Why not indulge it in a safe, fun, no-strings arrangement where we both get off? Where we both get what we want?

  I tug a hand through my hair. Now that I’m here about to ask Elijah for his blessing, I’m not sure if this the best or worst idea ever.

  Am I being a gigantic, selfish idiot for even entertaining it?

  Or have I finally gathered the courage to be who I truly am? Ask for what I truly want?

  Billy, my brother’s dog, is the first to greet me. He lumbers over from his perch at Olivia’s feet, wagging his tail as I give his ears a little tug.

  “Gracie! I’m so glad you could come,” Olivia says. She gets off her stool at the island, coffee still in hand, and pulls me in for a hug. “I hear the renovation is wrapping up over at Holy City. We’re looking forward to the grand opening.”

  “I’m excited,” I say. “How’s the writing going?”

  “Eh. It’s going. The drafting phase is always so damn hard. This book is such a mess right now. I hope I can make it come together.”

  I give her a quick squeeze. “You made the first two books in the series come together pretty damn nicely. And I remember you felt the same way about those books when you were drafting them—you were so worried they wouldn’t work out. Let me assure you they worked out so well I can’t stop reading them. I loved Cate and Gunnar. But Max and Jane—gah, they are everything.”

  Olivia’s smile deepens. She always gets this glow when she’s writing her books. Talking about them.

  “Have you gotten to the bathtub scene yet?” she asks. “It’s my favorite.”

  “Oh my God, Olivia, that scene. The candles and the fire and the washcloth? And the soap?”

  “The soap.” Olivia laughs. “Yeah, that was a fun little addition.”

  “Fun. And so hot.” I toss my hair out of my face. “Whew. I don’t think I can talk about it in public.”

  “You know I was the inspiration for that scene,” Eli says, wagging his brows. “Had to take a lot of baths to get it just right.”

  Olivia grins. “And when you did get it right—it was right.”

  “Y’all are so cute it’s gross,” I say, laughing. I nod at the stove. “Whatcha making?”

  “A riff on shrimp and grits. Goin’ for more of a brunch theme today.”

  My stomach grumbles. I am starving.

  “Smells delicious.”

  “Damn fuckin’ right it does,” Eli says. “You girls sit. It’s ready.”

  I grab a cup of coffee from the pot beside the range. Giving Elijah a quick peck on his cheek, I take a seat on the stool beside Olivia’s at the island. Take a sip of coffee. He always uses beans from my shop—I can tell by the taste of cinnamon-y spice on my tongue.

  I wonder how the hell I should start this conversation.

  Eli sets two steaming bowls in front of Olivia and I, using his towel to wipe away an errant scallion from the rim of my bowl.

  The shrimp and grits dish is an old low country specialty. There are a million ways to make it. Today, it looks like Eli started with a bed of yellow grits. On top of that, he layered the shrimp—cooked in a yummy sauce made with bacon, shallots, Andouille sausage, stock, and spices, all thickened with a hint of cream—and a handful of freshly chopped scallions.

  The spice of the sausage plus the buttery starchiness of the grits smells downright heavenly. Having a chef for a brother definitely doesn’t suck sometimes.

  Eli kisses Olivia as he hands her a knife and fork. She blushes. He grins, eyes lingering on her face for one beat, then another.

  By the time I screw my courage to the sticking place, we’re all sitting at the island, quietly digging into our bowls.

  “So,” I say, using both hands to wipe my mouth with my napkin. I fold it in half over my index fingers and carefully place it on my lap.

  Eli looks at me, shoveling a spoonful of grits into his mouth. “So.”

  “Grits are good,” I say. “Really good.”

  “They’re Luke’s. First batch he milled on his new farm. Used heirloom corn he grew out there. Fuckin’ ridiculous, right?”

  My heart lurches at the mention of Luke’s name. I look down at my bowl.

  “Luke made these?”

  “Uh-huh. Gotta hand it to the guy—never does anything halfway.”

  Of course he doesn’t.

  My. God. As if I couldn’t want this man more.

  “Funny you should mention him,” I say.

  Olivia’s eyebrows pop up. Her lips move into a small, knowing smile. “Oh? Why is that?”

  Looking down at my lap, I take a deep breath. Look up at my brother.

  “How weird would it be if I told you I wanted to hook up with Luke?”

  Elijah goes still mid-bite. Stops blinking. Jaw stops moving. A beat of horrifically uncomfortable silence blooms between us as he stares at me.

  At last he swallows. He grabs his coffee and gulps at it.

  “You wanna have sex with my best friend,” he says. Deadly calm.

  I curl my fingers around the edge of the countertop. “Yeah. I’d like to, yes.”

  My brother is still staring at me.

  “Whose bright idea is this?”

  “Mine.” I glance at Olivia. “I’ve been reading My Deal With the Duke. And you know how Lady Jane propositions Max the Duke—how she asks him to help her explore sex? I was thinking of doing the same. Asking the same. Asking Luke, I mean.”

  Eli’s eyes go wide. We’ve always been close—always been open with each other. But even for us, this is a lot of sharing.

  He turns to glare at Olivia. “This is your fault, you know.”

  “I know,” she replies, still smiling. She looks at me. “I happen to think it’s a fantastic idea.”

  He groans. Runs a hand down his face. “Really? My baby sister gettin’ naked with my best friend is a fantastic idea? Jesus.” He shakes his head.

  “I’m not a baby,” I say.

  “But you are my sister,” he shoots back, eyes snapping to mine. “My only sister. I’ll always look out for you, Gracie. I’ll always want you to be happy. And I’m not at all convinced Luke Rodgers could get you there. Not because he isn’t a good guy. Hell, he’s one of the best. But from what I gather, y’all want different things. Luke’s always been a love ’em and leave ’em type. And you’re…not.”

  I set my fork and knife down. “Maybe I’ve changed my tune.”

  Eli cocks a brow.

  “Bad break-ups,” I explain. “Asshole exes. Grieving heart. The usual suspects that would make one leery of another long-term commitment.”

  Eli’s expression softens. “I know you been havin’ a rough time of it lately, Gracie. I just…I don’t want you gettin’ hurt is all.”

  “I appreciate that. I do. But I wouldn’t be asking you if I thought it would end badly. Luke and I are both adults. We’re capable of real communication and critical thought. I think we can make this work, Eli. Like you said, Luke is a good guy. He respects me. I respect him. You know I’ll be safe with him.”

  Eli arches a brow.

  “You think you’ll be safe if you catch feelings for him? You think your heart will be safe with him then, Gracie?”

  I roll my lips between my teeth. “I can’t guarantee that won’t happen. But I’ve got my guard up. I know Luke. I know how he is. I’m not expecting anything other than what I ask of him. I’m just looking for fun.”

  Eli lets out an annoyed breath.

  “You can’t find
anyone else in this city to have fun with? Someone who isn’t practically family?”

  Olivia laughs, holding a forkful of shrimp in front of her mouth. “She’s got her sights set on Luke. No one else will compare. Not for this job.”

  “Exactly. Thank you,” I say to her, grateful for the vote of support. “Look, Eli. Just say the word and I’ll drop the idea and never mention it again. If you’re not okay with it, it won’t happen. But I’ve had a shitty few months, and some sexual healing could go a long way in helping me heal.”

  He scoffs. “No pressure or anything.”

  “Sorry,” I say.

  I know I’m being a little shameless in pressing my case. But I’m desperate.

  I wait with bated breath while Eli studies my face. My pulse drums inside my skin. I don’t know what my next step will be if he says no. Now that I’m staring down the barrel of this particular gun, I’m realizing just how much I do want Luke for this job. Only Luke. I don’t think anyone else could get me quite so excited.

  Quite so motivated to take back my sex life from shitty exes. From Instagram- influenced ideas of perfection and expectation.

  At last Eli heaves a sigh. He jabs his spoon into his bowl, lifting a heap of grits to his mouth. He chews thoughtfully for a moment.

  “Fine,” he says, making my heart flip. “You have my blessing. I’m not crazy about the idea. But if you promise to be smart, and be good to him, well…what y’all do behind closed doors is y’all’s business.”

  I’m smiling that big smile again. The one that makes me feel like my face is split in two.

  I lean over and wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you. Seriously.”

  “No breakin’ his heart, you hear?”

  My turn to scoff. “I think we both know that would never happen.”

  “I think you have a bad habit of underestimating yourself,” Eli replies. When I pull back, he meets my eyes. “I’m serious. I love y’all. Be careful, Gracie. Please.”

  “I will.”

  “Be fearless,” Olivia adds with that knowing smile of hers.

  “I will,” I say.

  Two opposite things—careful and fearless. But I’d like to think, if I’m smart and I play my cards right, there’s a way to be both.

  Now I just have to convince Luke to play with me.

  Chapter Five

  Luke

  The first thing I notice when I arrive at Eli’s house on Longitude Lane is that Gracie isn’t here. I know she stops by sometimes when her brother has the day off.

  I feel a tug of disappointment. Try to ignore it. If I have Eli to myself, that means I can ask for his blessing.

  Because that’s what I came here to do.

  I’m going to ask Elijah for his blessing to date Gracie.

  Maybe I’m crazy. There’s a good chance I’m about to get my ass kicked. But I can’t let this opportunity pass by. No telling when Gracie will be single like this again. Girl is a total rock star. It’s only a matter of time before someone else scoops her up.

  When she told me the other night that she and Nick broke up, I nearly had a heart attack. Excitement and relief mingled to form a potent, persistent kind of hope inside my chest.

  Dating Gracie was never a possibility before. We lived in different states. Dated different people.

  But now, suddenly, it is a possibility. So I’m going to (hopefully) get Elijah’s blessing. Then I’ll explain everything to Gracie—how I told her I wasn’t looking for anything serious because I didn’t want to fuck with her head—and ask her out on a date.

  Granted, so much has to line up just right for the whole thing to happen. Gracie being ready to date again after small dick Nick broke her heart. Eli not cutting off my dick for even suggesting the idea. Then not cutting off my balls for never telling him about this crush I’ve had on his baby sister for years.

  Above all else, Gracie and I would have to have a happy ending. Whether that looks like love or friendship, we can’t burn each other to the ground. Because hurting each other would mean hurting Elijah. My best friend.

  I also don’t want to lose Gracie as a friend. If I fucked it up, I would hate to not have her in my life anymore. She’s kind and fun and inspiring, and I would miss her like crazy.

  But I know I could be good to her. I know I could make her feel better than any of those jerk offs she’s been with.

  Granted, that’s a low bar. I plan to do much better.

  I’d never date Gracie unless I could do right by her. Unless I could be the stand-up man she wants and deserves.

  Still. I’m nervous as hell when I step into Elijah’s kitchen.

  I notice immediately that my friend is in a mood.

  “We already ate,” he grunts, pots clanging as he gives one a vigorous scrub in the packed sink. “You want some shrimp ’n grits, there’s leftovers in the fridge. Get ’em yourself.”

  My stomach clenches. For half a second I’m seized by the wild idea that he knows why I’m here.

  I shove the thought from my head. There’s no way he knows. I’ve never mentioned my feelings for Gracie before.

  Then again, Eli’s caught me looking at her. More than once.

  “I didn’t come to eat,” I reply, giving my keys a flip. “Can we talk?”

  His gaze darts to my key ring. Immediately I curl my hand around it, making a fist. I tap that fist on the edge of the island.

  Flipping my keys is my nervous tell. Eli knows it.

  He turns off the faucet. Grabs a towel and wipes his hands, his eyes flashing darkly when they land on my face.

  If looks could kill, this one would make me the victim of a very violent, very bloody homicide.

  “About what?” he asks. All ironic innocence.

  I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “About Gracie.”

  He continues to wipe his hands on the towel.

  “She already told me.”

  My pulse skips. I wrinkle my brow “Told you what?”

  “Don’t you dare play fuckin’ dumb with me.” Eli growls. He jerks his head toward the doors that lead to his backyard. “Outside. Now.”

  Blinking in confusion—what the hell did Gracie tell him? Did I sleepwalk to her house last night and confess my feelings like some desperate, somnambulant asshole?—I do as he tells me and head out back, sliding my keys into my front pocket.

  I take a seat on the wooden bench beside his herb garden. I can’t help dipping my hand down and running my fingers through the wiry oregano he’s got growing. Needs more sun and less water, but when I bring my fingers to my nose, the smell is still pungently sweet.

  Another pungent smell fills my head—tobacco. I turn to see Elijah standing in the grass, cheeks blown out as he releases a small cloud of smoke. He’s got a Cohiba, his favorite kind of Cuban cigar, clamped between his teeth.

  He’s looking at me.

  “I’m serious,” I say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He takes a seat in one of the wooden chairs opposite me. One eye screwed shut against the late morning sunlight that slants into the yard.

  I notice he hasn’t offered me a cigar, like he usually does.

  F-u-u-u-u-c-k.

  “You don’t have any idea what Grace asked me just now?” he says.

  I shake my head. “I swear to you, E, I got no clue.”

  I’m curious as hell, though.

  Elijah takes a draw on his cigar. Lets out more smoke. Plucks it from his mouth.

  “How ’bout you tell me what you came to say first,” he replies, draping his arm across the back of the chair beside his. “Then I’ll tell you what Gracie asked. If I feel like it.”

  He’s not wearing a shirt. Never does.

  I’m bigger than Elijah. Working on the farm plus regular workouts at the gym have kept me in decent shape.

  Still. Man’s got some muscle on him. He would do real damage if he chose to.

  I take a breath through my nose. Let it out.

  “O
kay. Sure. Yeah. Well.” I clear my throat into my fist. Force myself to look him in the eye. No good way to tell your best friend you’ve been crushing on his sister for ten years and now you’re ready to make your move. Best to just come out with it.

  “I’d like to take Gracie out. Date her. Do things the right way. Take it slow. Because, uh…” God damn it. “Because I have a thing for her—a big thing, Elijah. A real thing that I’ve never acted on before because the timing was never right. Your sister is special. She’s smart, and she’s beautiful, and she’s down to earth. I fuckin’ adore her. Have since the day I met her at your Mama’s house back in Aiken. I’d like to take her out and, God willin’, grow something real with her. But I won’t do a thing until I have your approval.”

  I feel like my heart is liable to beat itself right out of my ears.

  My keys poke through my pocket into my thigh.

  Eli is still looking at me. His brow is furrowed. Eyes lit up with something that looks a lot like confusion.

  After a minute of interminable silence, he spears a hand through his hair and looks away, muttering, “What the fuck is goin’ on today?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Means I’m confused.” His head swings back toward me, and he spears me with a glare as he leans forward. Puts the cigar in his mouth, inhales, takes it out. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. I could tell y’all were feelin’ each other at Olivia’s birthday party a few weeks ago. That part of the attraction I get. But here’s the part I don’t get—you’re telling me you want somethin’ serious with her. You. Luke Rodgers. The guy who gets around and likes his fun and has a Facebook fan page dedicated to his dick.”

  “Maybe I’ve—”

  “Changed your tune.” He falls back.

  “Something like that.” I scrunch my brow. “Yeah. Things are goin’ good for me, E. Now that I’ve got the farm, I’ve been thinkin’ about settling down. Growin’ my veggies and maybe a family, too.”

  “Jesus Christ. What a fuckin’…Jesus.”

  “What?” I say, starting to panic. “I’m sorry I never told you. I don’t know what my thinkin’ was, but I regret it, and I’m sorry. I swear to you I never laid a finger on Gracie. I got nothin’ but respect for your sister. My intentions always been honorable toward her.”