Southern Gentleman: A Charleston Heat Novel Read online

Someone I created.

  It’s what Lady Charlotte was implying when she asked Callum why he wanted an heir so badly—that he’d lost his family and wanted to create a new one. That he was lonely, and searching for a sense of belonging.

  Taking a deep breath, I turn and start walking again. I walk and I think. I am in a place where I can raise this baby how I want to. I could give her a good life in a loving, secure, stable home.

  I also have the means, the resources, and the support to (hopefully) enjoy motherhood myself. Again, things that are important to my decision making process. I have great insurance and really good doctors. Solid maternity leave at my job. A job that pays me enough to cover quality child care when I go back to work. I’ve already achieved a lot of what I set out to do in my career. I’ve traveled, I’ve had a great time. I’ve gotten to meet incredible people.

  I am one lucky bitch with a lot to share. And share it I do, with my students, the charities and causes I support, and my community.

  If I chose to, I could share it with a baby, too.

  I have no sentimental notions about motherhood. But the more I think about where I’m at and who I’ve become, the more I’m starting to believe this baby thing could actually be fun. Hard, yes. Exhausting, totally. But how cool would it be to teach her how to read? To love her and learn who she is, what she’s passionate about, her likes and dislikes? Travel with her, even?

  How cool would it be to take the idea of motherhood and make it my own? Do it my own way, because I can?

  I’d be giving up a lot to have this kid.

  But the flip side of that equation is that I’d be gaining a lot, too.

  A family. The privilege of experiencing the world through a new set of eyes.

  Yeah, having a kid without a dedicated partner is not what I thought I’d be doing at this point in my life. It’s going to be a struggle to let go of what I’d hoped my path would look like and embrace how things will actually shake out.

  There’s no telling if this path is any better or worse than others I could have taken.

  But that doesn’t mean it’s not the right path.

  That doesn’t mean I won’t find happiness on it. And who knows, maybe Grey will want to be involved in the baby’s life. Maybe he’ll actually want to be the super invested co-parent I’m looking for. Both my parents were very involved in my life from the start. They showed up to almost everything: tennis matches, spelling bees, birthday parties. I’d love for my son or daughter to have both parents be involved that way, too.

  I’d love for this baby to have a special relationship with his or her father, the way I had a special relationship with mine. It made my life infinitely richer.

  In fact, if Greyson does want to be involved—and that’s a big if—maybe I should tell him that. I should make that my expectation: that he’s as invested in this baby’s upbringing as I’ll be. Seems only fair. The more upfront I am about what I hope for from him, the easier things will be going forward. I imagine co-parenting is a minefield, even with solid communication. Best to get in the habit of being honest from the start.

  If Greyson doesn’t want to be involved, well…then I’ll deal with it. The baby will have plenty of adoring aunties to make up for not having a daddy.

  My heart pops around inside my chest.

  I’m still not totally sure about keeping this baby. But I am definitely leaning that way.

  One thing I am totally sure about? How fucking dismayed Greyson is going to be when I tell him. I’ve seen firsthand how a control freak like him responds to unexpected news.

  Not well.

  Whatever. I’m not responsible for his reaction, same as I’m not responsible for fixing his jerk-off behavior.

  That’s on him.

  Either way, I have to tell him.

  Taking a deep breath, I shoot him a text.

  Chapter Six

  Greyson

  Julia: I need to talk to you. Can you come to my place tonight?

  Greyson: What’s going on

  Greyson: youve never invited me over before

  Julia: We need to talk in person.

  Greyson: Are you ok?

  Greyson: Something happen at the barn

  Julia: Everything is fine at the barn. My address is 23 Longitude Lane. It’s the apartment above the garage. House with blue shutters. I should be home by 7.

  Greyson: Have a ton of research to do. Will be in the office until 8:30 or so

  Greyson: I’ll be downtown

  Greyson: I can come after

  Greyson: You sure you’re ok?

  Julia: 8:30 works.

  * * *

  I know something’s up because Julia never gave me a straight answer to my “are you okay” question. I dwell on it more than I should throughout the afternoon.

  Is she going to quit? Have I finally pushed her over the edge? I thought we worked decently well together, despite disagreeing on almost everything.

  Have we given each other an STD? Not likely, considering we always use condoms. But I guess there’s always a chance.

  Whatever’s going on, I need to know what it is, and I need to know that Julia’s okay.

  I’m running late from the office—I’m never late to work events, but personal stuff is a different story—and I’m at her door at quarter after nine.

  Julia lives on a cute little lane not far from my condo on South Adger’s Wharf. Her place is an old carriage house set above a double garage.

  I knock on Julia’s door with the outside of my fist. I slide my phone back into my pocket, taking care not to crush the pack of cigarettes I have in there too.

  I’m about to knock again when the door opens. Julia glances up at me. She’s channeling Joni Mitchell tonight in a straw hat and flared jeans with holes in the knees.

  She looks drawn. Eyes swollen and a little red, like she’s been crying.

  My heart dips. I put my hand on the door, opening it wider as I take a step toward her.

  “What is it?” I ask, eyes locked on hers.

  Her eyes move to my chest. Move back up to my face. She tilts her head. “Come in. We need to talk.”

  I close the door behind me, heart thumping as I follow Julia inside.

  The place is tiny but impeccably decorated. There’s a galley kitchen to my left and a living room to the right.

  Julia nods at the sofa in the living room. “Please, have a seat.”

  Sinking into her cushy velvet sofa, I cross my ankle over my knee and hold my hand there. Julia takes a seat in the chair across from me, setting a glass bottle—Topo Chico, Mexican Sparkling Water, the label reads—on the glass coffee table between us.

  Something about the water makes my gut prickle with ice. Julia strikes me as the type to finish the day with something stronger.

  “I’m pregnant,” she says, right on cue. “I haven’t been with anyone besides you, so…yeah. Baby’s yours.”

  My heart trips to a stop.

  For a second my vision contracts.

  I’m a partner at a venture capital firm. Before that, I worked in private equity and investment banking. I know stress. Usually I can growl my way through it.

  But this? I don’t know where the hell to begin with this.

  I am careful. I don’t make mistakes often. When I do, though—

  They’re big. Case in point.

  How could I be so careless? How could I knock up the employee I should’ve avoided but slept with instead?

  What the fuck what the fuck what the everloving fuck?

  “Julia,” I stammer. Unsure what else to say.

  She blinks, looking away. “I thought you should know. Trust me, no one was more shocked than I was when I took those tests. And when the doctor confirmed it…”

  Another wave of emotion. The thought of Julia being by herself when she got the news—not once, but twice—makes me irrationally angry.

  “You went to the doctor without me?”

  “I did,” she says. “I wasn’t s
ure what to expect. I sure as hell wasn’t ready to deal with your wrath.”

  The edge of my cigarette pack pokes into my ass. I’m hit by an acute need for nicotine.

  “I would’ve gone with you,” I growl. Proving her point, but whatever. “You shouldn’t have had to do that alone. I’m sorry.”

  Her eyebrows pop up. “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this baby on my own.”

  I run my hand across the back of my neck. I’m sweating.

  “I know you are. No one is more capable than you, Julia. But I would’ve liked to have gone with you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  I should apologize for more than that. But my tongue feels like stone in my mouth.

  I’m totally out of my depth here. Over the past three years I’ve built a stone wall around my heart, as much to keep people out as to keep myself inside. The barrier is there for good reason.

  Then this happens.

  How the fuck am I supposed to keep boundaries clear—keep Julia at arm’s length, keep from hurting her—if she’s pregnant with my kid?

  “I tried as best as I could to be careful,” I say. “I swear I would never, ever be careless with you, Julia.”

  “We weren’t planning this. Obviously. But I’m thinking—” She swallows, her expression softening. “I think I’m going to keep it. The baby.”

  Sweat breaks out everywhere. Along my scalp and spine.

  My heart is beating inside my face, threatening to split it open like the skin of a ripe tomato.

  I am not against babies in general. My brother has a three year old daughter who’s got me wrapped around her little finger. But having a baby myself—with Julia—starting a family—

  I don’t do those things. Not because I don’t want them. But because they’re not meant for me. I had the fairy tale, and I walked away from it. I’m the bad guy in this story. Not the hero.

  Bad guys don’t get happy endings.

  “It doesn’t make sense to me either,” she continues, offering me a tight smile. “I’ll be honest, I still haven’t fully sorted out my reasons. But I just feel this…this tug. This tiny, tiny tug pulling me over to the dark side.”

  “The dark side?”

  She laughs. “Motherhood.”

  I scoff. Her smile loosens ever so slightly.

  “Anyway.” She straightens. “I know I just dropped a bomb on you, and I don’t need answers right away. I don’t expect or need you to be involved in the baby’s life. Like I said, I’m totally capable of taking care of him or her on my own.”

  “Julia, let me stop you—”

  “Please,” she says, holding up a hand. “Let me finish. I’ve got plenty of amazing support, financial or otherwise. But if you are interested in being involved, I want to be clear about what my expectations would be. I’m looking for a true partner—a co-parent who’ll shoulder a fair share of the responsibility of raising this baby. I ask that you show up and be there for her the same way I will. That you’re just as invested in raising her as I am. Both feet or none at all kind of thing. I’m not playing that game where I force you to grow up or show up. I don’t need the hassle or disappointment, and neither does this baby.”

  My hand tightens around the back of my neck. Yeah, I may be scared shitless, but I’m not a deadbeat. It hurts that Julia would ever think I’d leave her to deal with this mess on her own.

  If I’m going to be a dad, even if this whole thing is a terrible surprise, I’m going to do it right. I’ve never done anything halfway in my life. And my own parents are pretty damn amazing role models. I’ve always wanted to live up to them.

  I want to do the right thing here. For the baby. For Julia.

  Then again, what is the right thing when you ruin every good thing you touch?

  I still have to try. I’ve worked hard over the past few years to provide for my family.

  I’ll work harder to provide for this baby.

  I go with the most obvious, if most painful, solution.

  “I’m in. One hundred percent. Should we—” I clear my throat. “Get married?”

  A look of horror crosses Julia’s face. “No.”

  I’m surprised to find I’m offended by her emphatic refusal, even though part of me is also incredibly relieved.

  I already fucked up one marriage. The thought of entering another, even for altruistic reasons, makes my skin itch with imaginary hives.

  “I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” she explains, taking a sip of water. “I just meant that I’m a romantic at heart, and if I ever do get married, I want it to be because I’m crazy in love, not because I got knocked up.”

  A stab inside my chest. My hand slides from my neck to the offending spot just above my breastbone.

  I know all about getting married for the wrong reasons.

  “I understand,” I say. “I just want you to know that I’m all in, Julia. I take care of my own, and our baby will be no exception.”

  I always, always put my family first. Especially after what I did to them. I have many sins to atone for.

  “Greyson.” She looks at me and frowns. “You should really take some time to think about this. The weekend at least. It’s a huge decision. And I don’t want to get my hopes up if—”

  “I don’t need time. If you’re in, so am I.”

  Julia’s still looking at me. Eyes getting wet again.

  “You’re going to be a real partner?” she says. “The co-parent I told you I’m looking for?”

  “Yes.”

  She puts a hand on her face. Blinks. “Okay then.”

  I’m gripped by the wild desire to take that hand in mine. I can’t imagine what she’s been through over the past week.

  But I can’t reach for her like that. She’s not mine to have. Never was. I can support her, and be there for this kid. But I can’t be her person. I’ll fuck it up. And fucking it up has bigger consequences all of a sudden. I won’t just be hurting Julia; I’ll be hurting my kid, too.

  A kid who didn’t ask to be here. I will not put my relationship with him or her at risk.

  I clear my throat. “Where does that leave us?”

  Julia takes a breath. Lets it out.

  “You mean are we still going to fuck in the backseat of your car?” She tilts her head. “I think you’ll agree it’s probably best if we refrain from the hate sex for the time being.”

  It’s the right call. Even if we didn’t end our arrangement, how could it be just sex knowing there’s a baby involved?

  Doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed. Epic sex is hard to come by.

  I nod. “Okay. You’ll let me know when your next doctor’s appointment is? I’d like to be there.”

  “You don’t—”

  “I’d like to be there,” I repeat. “If you want to go alone, fine. Well. Not fine, but I’ll respect your wishes. If you’d let me tag along, however, I would very much like to go with you.”

  Julia meets my eyes. Hers a little puzzled, like she doesn’t quite know what to make of me. “Okay. Okay, yeah, sure. My head is swimming right now. But my next appointment happens to be my first ultrasound. They’ll measure the baby and make sure everything’s all right. Take some pictures and see exactly how far along I am in my pregnancy.”

  Her pregnancy.

  The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Shit just got real.

  We’re going to have a baby.

  I’m going to be a daddy.

  Jesus take the wheel, ’cause I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.

  “I never asked when you’re due,” I say.

  “June twenty-third.”

  A smile tugs at my lips. “That’s my mom’s birthday.”

  “Really?” Julia asks, grinning.

  It’s the first time she’s smiled all night—I’m good at making her smile when we’re naked, but when we’re dressed it’s an entirely different story—and for half a second my heart swells.

  Don’t.

  But I do. I let her smile make me
feel better. Like an idiot.

  “My mom will be thrilled,” I say. Which is true. My parents really are awesome, and they’ll be over the moon about having another grandbaby. I’m not sure how they’ll feel about my relationship, or complete lack thereof, with Julia. But it’s too late to go back and change how it all went down now.

  “Does your family live here in Charleston?”

  “They do,” I say. “My parents live in Ansonborough—Wentworth Street—and my brother lives over on Queen, near Harleston Village.”

  Julia’s grin grows wistful. “Must be nice having everyone so close.”

  “It is. Although sometimes it gets a little intense. We see a decent amount of each other. I work a lot, so that tends to get in the way of family time.”

  “Always so busy,” she says, eyes on my face.

  We look at each other for a beat. Then another. Her eyes are still swollen, but they’re brighter now than when I first arrived.

  My God is she a beautiful girl. I’d really, really like to pull her onto my lap right now and make her feel better the only way I know how. It’s been a week since we fucked last—not that I’m counting—and I’m craving her. Her scent and her honesty and her surrender.

  I’m always craving this woman.

  I spear a hand through my hair instead. Doing my best to ignore the sudden heaviness in my groin. My dick is what got us here in the first place.

  Must. Ignore.

  Lord Jesus, when are you gonna take this wheel?

  “Next appointment. I’ll be there. Let me know when it is,” I grunt.

  “Okay,” Julia says, smoothing the fabric of her leggings over her thighs. “It’s on my calendar. I’ll double check and get back to you.”

  Those thighs. They were wrapped around me on Wednesday, all smooth skin and strong muscle, Julia’s head falling back as I rocked into her tight, hot cunt. My teeth on her nipple, her fingernails in my back, my thumb on her clit.

  She was pregnant. We just didn’t know it yet.

  “I should go,” I say, standing abruptly. I need a cigarette. Possible castration as well. This woman makes me regress into a horn-dog teen with blackout level desire, and I need some air if I’m going to stick to our no-hate-sex agreement.