“Oh, Georgia. Why?”
Georgia stared at the mountains. She was home. Safe. Yet, it still felt as if she couldn’t let down her guard, as if she needed to fight her way through every minute of every single day. And she had to do it by herself.
“I get the feeling he wants to step into my life and take over,” she said. “And he wants promises, ones I don’t think I can make without cutting away at my independence.”
It might not happen overnight, but over time, she had a feeling that letting him in, opening her heart to him, would weaken her.
Katie gave her hand a squeeze. “Talk to Eric. Explain how you feel. I think he might surprise you.”
HOURS LATER, GEORGIA closed the door to Nate’s room without making a sound. The little boy had protested going to bed without seeing Eric, but she’d insisted. She’d waited as long as she could, and Nate had nearly fallen asleep on the floor beside his train tracks.
She headed for the kitchen, mentally switching gears from toddlers and trains to how she would approach her conversation with Eric tonight. Exposing her emotional vulnerability—it was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid that first night when she’d gone into his bedroom. But if she didn’t, Katie was right—they’d reach a standstill. And that’s the one thing Georgia could not stomach—hiding from her life, instead of taking action. She had to face her fears. This was her life. She had to live it, even if doing so hurt.
She went to the kitchen and started cleaning the dinner dishes, scraping the remains of Nate’s mac and cheese into the trash. In her pocket, her cell vibrated.
“I’m at home, Liam,” Georgia said, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder while she finished loading the dishwasher. “I just put Nate to bed, and I’m getting ready to prepare his snack for preschool tomorrow. Nothing crazy.”
Unless you include preparing to confront my lover, who also happens to be your best friend.
“I’m not calling to check up on you,” her brother said. “Not this time. I wanted to give you a heads-up that Eric had a bad day.”
Georgia frowned. “Worse than fighting a forest fire?”
“Yeah. This morning he had to fire B&B Trucking. Their guys showed up late again. The owner didn’t take it well. He’d been working with Moore Timber since Eric’s father ran the business. Summers Family Trucking stepped up. But as soon as we fixed that problem, he got called into a DOF meeting. His assistant told me he left in a huff,” her brother said. “So go easy on him tonight.”
“I will.” And that meant the little talk she’d planned would have to wait.
“No wild stunts,” Liam added.
“I’ll call and cancel my BASE jumping plans.”
“Georgia—”
“Good night, Liam.” She hung up the phone and opened the fridge. The housekeeper had left a pot of chicken stew and wild rice. Healthy, but not exactly comfort food. Georgia pulled out the weekend bacon and began heating a pan. She had just started slicing the tomato when Eric opened the door leading to the attached garage.
Her senses turned up to high alert before she even caught sight of him. And when she looked up?
It didn’t matter what he wore, he couldn’t hide his drool-worthy muscles. But tonight, seeing him in his business suit? Her fingers itched to unbutton his dress shirt and explore what lie beneath. Her gaze traveled up his torso to his face, noting the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. Poor man, he looked as if the past twenty-four hours had drained him completely.
“I’m making BLTs,” she said, turning her attention back to the tomato before she sliced her fingers.
“I smelled the bacon in the garage.” His voice was a deep rumble. “I thought I was on restriction.”
She started assembling the sandwiches, trying not to think about the way her breasts perked up at the sound of his voice. They needed to talk tonight before she even considered going down that road. “Liam called. Said you had a bad day. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll grab you a drink. Beer?”
“Water is fine.” He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, undoing the top button of his dress shirt before sinking into a chair.
Georgia brought the sandwiches to the table and sat across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Bad day. That’s all.” Eric shook head. “The DOF believes we failed to follow the fire precautions. They’re accusing us of running chainsaws during restricted hours.”
Her eyes widened. “But you didn’t, right?”
“I sure as hell hope not. We’d be on the hook for the full cost of the fire if we did,” he said. “But it’s not the money
that gets to me. I hate sitting in those meetings, answering their damn questions, when I know they’re fishing for some way to pin this on us. They won’t have cold, hard facts until they determine the fire’s point of origin. I just want to forget about it until then.”
Freeze the feelings, the weight of it all, and set it aside. She understood that better than most. “If you need an escape, we could skinny-dip in the pond after dinner. The cold water always makes me feel better.”