Sweet Georgia Peach
Magnolias and Moonshine #15
by Amelia C. Adams
With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Erin, Jeene, Jen, Nancy, Renee, and Shelby.
I’d also like to thank my fellow authors in this project—what a talented group!
Copyright @ 2017 Amelia C. Adams
Welcome to the Magnolias and Moonshine series, where you’ll fall in love with the South.
Twenty New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestselling authors joined together to bring you a taste of Southern charm in this brand-new Magnolias & Moonshine series.
There is something for everyone with these ten sweet and ten sizzle contemporary romance novellas. You’ll enjoy stories with cowboys, weddings, county fairs, lovers reunited, and much more.
Step into the world of the South and hear the cicadas, taste the mint juleps, see the stars, and smell the magnolias.
Authors in novella release order:
Ciara Knight (Sweet)
Hildie McQueen (Sizzle)
Beth Williamson (Sizzle)
Susan Hatler (Sweet)
Lindi Peterson (Sweet)
Kymber Morgan (Sizzle)
Amanda McIntyre (Sizzle)
Lucy McConnell (Sweet)
Sharon Hamilton (Sizzle)
Lisa Kessler (Sizzle)
Kirsten Osbourne (Sweet)
Susan Carlisle (Sizzle)
Tina DeSalvo (Sizzle)
Raine English (Sweet)
Amelia C. Adams (Sweet)
E. E. Burke (Sizzle)
Melinda Curtis (Sweet)
Merry Farmer (Sizzle)
Shanna Hatfield (Sweet)
Jennifer Peel (Sweet)
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Sneak Peek
Purchase Links for Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, and Nook
Chapter One
London Russell pulled her suitcase into the lobby of the Atlanta Columbine Hotel and took a deep breath. She picked up hairspray and perfume and ambition in the air—yep, smelled like a beauty pageant, all right. A huge banner welcomed all the contestants for Miss Sweet Georgia Peach, mothers and daughters buzzing near the check-in table like hornets around a hive. She’d thought she’d left all this behind her, but no—here she was again for one last shot before she was considered too old.
“London! Why, as I live and breathe!” Taffy Johnson bustled up to her, dressed in purple from head to toe in a linen pantsuit. If anyone could be called a stage mother, it was Taffy—she was more invested in her daughter Lacey’s success than Lacey was herself, and that was saying a lot. She gave London an air kiss on each cheek and then stepped back to survey her. “I haven’t seen you since you won Miss Mint Julep. Where have you been?”
“Finishing up some college courses,” London replied. “I’ve decided—”
“I’ve always wondered why we’ve never seen you at Miss Atlanta,” Taffy barreled on, not even registering that London had spoken. “Surely you’re more than experienced enough to win, with all those tiaras you have.”
“I just—”
“Of course, Lacey has almost as many!” She laughed delicately. “Why, we had to get a whole new glass-fronted bookcase to hold them all. I put it in the parlor. I figured that wasn’t as ostentatious as the front room, but Big Daddy said we should put it in the yard and show it off to the neighborhood! You remember Big Daddy, don’t you, London?”
Indeed she did. No one could meet Lacey’s father and not remember the experience. She didn’t have the chance to reply, though, because Taffy was still going.
“Where’s your mother? Isn’t she here with you? And I heard your sister married a fabulously wealthy rancher and moved to Idaho. Good for her. I always knew she’d make something of herself.”
“Mom’s at a meeting for her charity,” London finally managed to squeeze in. “And Amber’s husband isn’t fabulously wealthy, but he is a rancher. And he teaches rock climbing.”
“Oh.” Taffy seemed a bit put out. “A rockclimbing rancher? That seems a little odd, doesn’t it? But never mind—I’m just so glad to see you. We’ve missed you on the pageant circuit. We never feel like the competition’s stiff enough unless you’re here.”
London accepted that as the subtle compliment it was. “Thanks. It’s good to see you too. Tell Lacey I’ll catch up with her later, all right?”
“Of course. Take care now!” Taffy scuttled off the way she’d come from, looking like a lavender cupcake.
London checked into her room at the hotel, asked the bellhop to take her suitcase upstairs for her, and then walked over to the pageant registration table to check in. Her mother would be arriving later with her dress bags—she’d had them in storage for nine months, and they’d needed a little freshening up at the dry cleaner’s.
She endured several more vapid greetings from insincere persons, but then grinned when she caught sight of Chelsea Baker pushing through the crowd toward her. Chelsea was the one true friend she’d made during her pageant years, the only girl who had never stabbed her in the back, tried to sabotage her, or told lies about her to the judges.
“London!” Chelsea gave her a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. What have you been up to?”
“Oh, some print ads and a shopping mall grand opening. I’ve never understood the whole cut-the-ribbon-with-giant-scissors thing. What about you? It’s been forever.”
London smiled. “Well, I’ve actually decided to go to law school.”
Chelsea blinked, then squealed. “Like your sister? That’s so fantastic! When do you start?”
London motioned around them. “That’s what this will decide. I’m hoping to win a scholarship.”
“Oh, I hope you do!”
The line moved forward, so the girls edged closer to the table. “So, how do you get into law school, anyway?” Chelsea asked.
“I’ve been finishing up some course work over this last year so I’ll be ready to apply. And then hopefully they’ll accept me. I’ve had to pull good grades to make up for some stuff on my high school transcript—being Miss Mountain Breeze and Miss Southern Belle really made it hard to be a good student.”
“Yeah, those local appearances at the library and the ice cream parlor add up.” Chelsea laughed. “Why do we do this?”
“I don’t know. I remember loving it once upon a time.”
Chelsea leaned forward and grabbed London’s arm. “And you still love it, right? Don’t let the judges think anything different or you’ll get tossed in the first round.”
London nodded. “I adore it. Passionately.”
When it was London’s turn to check in, the girl behind the table gasped. “London Russell! You’re Miss Mint Julep, aren’t you? I loved your ball gown for the last round—you looked just like Scarlett O’Hara!”
“It was my mother’s idea,” London said, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.
“If you’re Miss Mint Julep, why aren’t you wearing your sash?” the other woman at the table asked. “All contestants who are currently crowned should wear their sashes here for the first day so we can all get to know you and your past achievements.”
“I’m sorry. I came from somewhere else and didn’t think to put it on. It’s in my suitcase, though.”
“Be sure
that you wear it to the mix and mingle in half an hour. Our judges will be there, and it’s your opportunity to impress them with your experience.”
“Okay,” London said, hoping she really had brought her sash and hadn’t just dreamed it. “And the tiara?” she added jokingly.
“Oh, no,” the woman said. “That would be a little much, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.” London mentally shook her head as she gathered up her registration materials and worked her way toward the elevator.
Once in her room, she kicked off her heels and plopped on one of the beds. The schedule looked much the same as all the others she’d seen—today was Monday, and there was a meet and greet with the other contestants and the judges. No parents or other guests were allowed, so sadly, she’d have to miss seeing Taffy fawn all over Lacey. Tuesday was publicity photo shoots and newspaper interviews, all designed to get the public excited for the pageant so they’d buy tickets. Wednesday was interviews with the judges and the first talent show. Thursday was the first elimination, and Friday was the pageant itself. The contestants would now be down to twelve, and they’d compete in talent, swimsuit, ball gown, and an interview with the emcee for the evening.
Fun, fun, fun.
She flipped the page over and read about the prizes. The first, second, and third prizes all came with scholarship money. Of course, she’d rather take the first prize, which was twenty-five thousand dollars. But even second or third would really be helpful.
The second page showcased a brief bio of each of the judges. First was Gerald Morgan, former mayor of Atlanta. He was probably sixty-five, with snowy white hair and a matching smile. He was known for calling every female he met “darlin’,” but he wasn’t demeaning about it—it was charming.
Then there was Elaine Denning, owner of one of the biggest cosmetics companies in the country, Adeline Rose. She looked pleasant enough, but there was a layer of steel in her eyes, something that always seemed to be necessary in an entrepreneur.
And the special guest judge was NFL quarterback Kade Smith.
London’s heart stopped. What? Kade Smith was judging this pageant? That couldn’t be right. She held the page closer, as if that would change the fact that yes, that was Kade’s face staring back up at her, his smug grin and his perfect hair and his too-big-for-his-shirt muscles. She dropped the paper to the bed and pressed her fingers to her temples. This couldn’t be happening.
Kade had been the captain of the football team her senior year of high school, and he’d gone out of his way to make her life miserable. He teased her endlessly about being a beauty queen and a Barbie doll and every other thing he could think of. If he was driving past in his convertible, he’d do the pageant wave at her—elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist. He was insufferable.
And he was judging this contest. She might as well pack up and go home right that minute—no way would he ever vote for her.
But if she went home, she could kiss law school goodbye. Everyone thought the Russells were loaded because they lived on a plantation—minus the slaves—but in truth, the plantation had been in the family for generations and was only worth the land it sat on. There were some antique thingies here and there, and General What’s His Name had done something important on the front veranda—signed a paper or something—and so it was considered a historical landmark. But there was nothing liquid about it, and that meant no money for law school. Academic scholarships were out of the question—it all came down to this pageant.
Grrr.
A glance at her watch told her that she had ten minutes to get downstairs for the meet and greet. She could do this—she could survive Kade for one week. She’d just use a little extra charm on the other two judges and win them over to her cause, and then it wouldn’t matter what Kade said because he’d be outvoted.
She reached in her suitcase and pulled out the white sundress she’d brought just for this. Thankfully, her Miss Mint Julep sash wasn’t hard to find, and after fluffing her hair and putting on a little more lipstick, she felt ready. Deep breath. Time to get a scholarship. Then she could put all this fakery behind her once and for all.
Chapter Two
Kade Smith stood in the corner of one of the smaller event rooms at the hotel, holding a glass of water in one hand and a cracker in the other. He felt so awkward at these things. When he signed the contract to play in the NFL for Atlanta, he’d thought he’d be playing football, and he did. He just also did a lot of media appearances and talk shows and stuff like this, judging pageants. Something about him being one of the youngest draft picks straight out of college and a record-breaking pass he’d thrown. He didn’t pay much attention to what they said about him—he just wanted to play ball.
“Another two hours, and this will all be over.” The woman who had introduced herself as Elaine came up beside him. She wore so much makeup, he wondered if she’d be able to wash it off or if she’d have to peel it like duct tape. He pegged her at about fifty, trying to look thirty. If he remembered right, she owned a cosmetics company, so he guessed that made sense.
“Two hours?” he replied. “That’s like, fourteen hours in dog years.”
She laughed. “I can already tell we’re going to have a lot of fun working together this week. I like your sense of humor.”
Kade grinned. “Why, thank you. Most people just roll their eyes.”
“Well, shall we go circulate? This is a mix and mingle, and we’re supposed to be getting to know the contestants.”
“Guess we’d better.” Kade popped his cracker in his mouth, chased it with the rest of his water, and threw his cup and napkin in the trash. He’d start at the right of the room and work his way to the left. Having a system was good.
He walked up behind the first young lady on the right. She wore a white sundress with a green sash crossing her chest, and she had really pretty dark hair. “Hello,” he said, and she turned around.
“Hello, Kade,” she replied.
He blinked. And then blinked again. He pressed his hand to his stomach because he felt like he’d been punched, and it was hard to draw a breath. “London,” he said at last. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“And I didn’t know you’d be here until I opened my registration packet a few minutes ago. Looks like we’re stuck with each other for a week. I guess we’ll have to make the best of it, huh?”
“Um, yeah, I guess we will.” Kade cleared his throat, trying to sound less squeaky. “So, you’re Miss Mint Julep.” He nodded toward her sash.
“Only for another month. Then I pass the title on.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Miss Sweet Georgia Peach, huh?”
“Yep. Sure enough. And you’re in the NFL these days.”
“Yeah. It’s been good.”
“I’m glad.” She tilted her head slightly. “Would you like to go through the buffet line with me? I think we’re supposed to be getting to know each other right now.”
“That’s what one of the other judges was just telling me. But don’t you think we already know each other well enough?”
She laughed. “If you’re going to judge me based on knowing me in high school, I hardly think that’s fair. It was what—four years ago that we last saw each other? People change. Let’s eat cheese and crackers and talk it out.”
Kade wasn’t really hungry—being on public display always made him lose his appetite—but he nodded and followed her to the start of the line.
The caterers had put out tiny little glass plates, and they each took one. The tiny plates matched the tiny food—petit fours, finger sandwiches, bits of caviar on toast points. And of course, cheese and crackers. Kade noticed that London kept everything on her plate just a little separate and smirked—she’d done the same thing in high school. She hated it when her food touched. Drove the lunch ladies crazy.
They carried their plates off to the side so they wouldn’t ho
ld up traffic, and Mayor Morgan wandered up to them. “Hello there, darlin’,” he said. “Miss Mint Julep, I’m the former mayor. I saw you chatting with our football hero here and figured this was probably the most interesting corner in the room.”
“I don’t know about that,” Kade protested. He’d heard that he was being called a football hero after he pulled the team out from under the threat of a crushing defeat, but he didn’t think that the term “hero” should be used so lightly. A soldier in Afghanistan, a lifeguard diving in to save a drowning kid—that was different. He just threw a ball around a field.
“Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” The mayor looked down at the tag he wore, identifying him as a pageant judge, and laughed. “No pun intended.”
London laughed as well. “It was a good one, sir,” she replied. “Might as well take credit for it.”
Kade all but rolled his eyes. A good one? No. It was horrible, as all puns are.
“I see that you helped yourself to some caviar, darlin’,” the mayor went on, looking at London’s plate.
“I have a secret,” she said, leaning in as though to whisper. When she spoke again, though, Kade could still hear it. “I hate caviar. I only eat it to make people think I’m fancy.”
Mayor Morgan laughed. “I can’t stand it either. I like your style, Miss Mint Julep. I’ll definitely consider you one to watch.” He gave her a smile and moved away.
Kade saw London smirk out of the corner of his eye. “You always did have a way with old men,” he said, turning back to her.
“Persons of the opposite gender and a generation or two older tend to find me charming,” she replied. “I can’t help it if I’m as cute as a button. Although, I don’t think buttons are necessarily cute, so I’ve never understood that expression.”
“Means you’ve been buying your buttons in the wrong places.” Kade picked up a petit four and popped it into his mouth. He only knew what they were called because of his mother—she’d read him the riot act when he’d called them “baby cakes” at a society tea.
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