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Pick me.

“It’s not that I don’t want to give you a second chance,” I said, and rose to my tiptoes to kiss him again. “I just think our worlds don’t mesh. It makes things hard.”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Give me a chance, and I’ll live in whatever world you want me to.”

Something melted inside me. The temptation finally reached its crisis, and I fell victim to its silky poison. I pulled him down for a longer, harder kiss. “Alright. I’m breaking all the rules, I guess, so here’s your chance. Do with it what you will.”

He gave a low chuckle, his eyes alight with joy. “Prepare to be wooed.”

“Wooed? Are we in Regency England?”

He pulled me through the door and down the porch steps. “We’re in the Deep South, ma’am, where I was raised to treat a lady with respect,” he dropped his mouth near my ear. “But it’s also where I learned to sweet-talk a woman out of her knickers.”

Heat seared through my insides, coalescing down low, and I turned to him with wide-eyed astonishment. “Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He smiled, enticing and threatening all at once. “Want to see?”

Smart. Handsome. Seductive. Were there any flaws in there?

“You are a smooth man, Camden Shepherd.”

He opened the car door for me. “You bring it out in me.”

A fit of nerves attacked when we pulled into the long driveway of his estate, the Spanish moss overhead illuminated by the multiple headlights of cars in line to be valeted. He must have sensed my anxiety because he took my hand and squeezed, inching toward the front entrance one car at a time. I smiled gratefully and linked my fingers through his.

To my horror, his parents were receiving their guests at the door. I squeaked when I saw them, and Cam set his arm around my shoulders, like presenting ourselves as a couple would somehow make me feel better. Nessa greeted us with a huge smile and kisses on both cheeks, but I could barely look Shep in the eye. When I did, the unadulterated distaste there made my insides cower.

“Mr. Shepherd.” I enacted some strange combination of curtsy and wave.

He offered his closed-lip smile. “Miss Honeycutt, you are the picture of beauty this evening.”

“Th-thank you.”

Shep shook his son’s free hand. “Kate Bass is here this evening. Be sure to dance with her.”

Cam replied with a nod and ushered me into the home. We descended to the ground floor, where most guests congregated near a band and dance floor. The furniture had been removed to make way for bistro tables. Fairy lights arced from the ceiling and ran in streams down the walls. The multi-door sliders opened to the courtyard beyond, and heaters and small fire pits warmed the cozy outdoor seating. Catering staff snaked through the crowds, offering drinks and appetizers.

“Wow,” I said. “This is amazing.”

“My mother always goes all out for this party.” He pointed to a corner dominated by a growing pile of toys. “That’s only a fraction of what she’ll collect.”

How many of my toys growing up had been supplied by this party? Illogical shame washed over me, as well as the overwhelming, yet familiar, sensation that I didn’t belong.

“I didn’t bring a toy,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry.” Cam flagged down a server and plucked two drinks from the tray. “I donated for both of us.”

I stared at the red drink in my hand, made festive with a candy cane stir stick. “Why would you do that?”

His brow knitted. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Sweetheart!” drawled a familiar voice before I could answer.

We both turned to find Bennett approaching us, his tuxedo boasting an emerald vest in a paisley pattern.

“You look like a leprechaun, Ben,” Cam said with a laugh.

“Yes, but it’s worth it.”