Friction

  “You’re heaven,” he breathed against her lips.

  The sound of his deep whisper colliding with the feel of his touch was all it took to send her over the edge. A surge of energy moved through her body then like a tidal wave.

  He felt her rush and it made his day, his week, his year. He reached for her limp arms. Any second now she would recover from that wave of erotic energy, and he wanted her in position for the next. He placed her hands over her head, his hands ease down her arms. His lips claimed her mouth before sliding down to her neck, moving on to her chest, to the hard peaks that were waiting on him. He gave them each attention, but not for long. He wanted to savor all of her.

  Now his hands were framing her face as his lips moved across her ribs. He moved further down, claiming her chest with his hands as his mouth led to the path he had already made for himself.

  Her body was on fire, thriving. She was trying to grasp a thought, trying to participate in this sensual dance, but he was in complete control.

  Just the idea of where he was going was building her up again. When she felt his lips dance across her hips as his hands squeezed her chest, she had to bite her lip. As if nature demanded it, she lifted her hips and his attention moved there.

  When she felt his kiss move across the lace of her panties, him sliding them down her legs, she was sure her heart was going to explode.

  That mouth of his, she thought. God, how can one mouth be that talented? she thought when his lips claimed her flesh.

  She whispered his name as she writhed again. She was helpless and fell over the orgasmic edge she was on once more. He knew she had, he felt it, even smiled against the heat of her, but he didn’t stop; he was addicted to her.

  He didn’t plan on her letting them go this far, on them crossing this many lines, but now turning down his body would be cruel and downright painful. He wanted her, all of her.

  As slow as possible, his lips eased up her body once more, taking a different path but bringing the same pleasure.

  Georgia couldn’t handle it anymore. She wanted to repay every favor, she wanted to take him to the same highs he’d taken her to—she wanted all of him.

  As her lips met his and she pulled him closer and unfasten his belt.

  Easton’s hands cupped her face, as he pulled away from their kiss. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

  There was an ocean of emotion in each of their gazes. One that took this act beyond the physical sensation. One that unearthed how deep this pull was they felt to each other.

  Before she could tell him he was impossible to regret, that she had wanted this-him, forever a loud screeching noise ruptured the sound of the quiet house.

  “Easton, my man, come in,” Truman’s voice said over the radio. “Eaaaaaassssstonnn. Holler back, boy.”

  With a curse, Easton slid off of Georgia. A second later he had grabbed the radio and rushed from the room, then the house.

  Georgia laid there for a second catching her breath, feeling the warm hum in her body, and deciding she had never once been as happy as she was right then.

  Life still had a few rough edges, though. She was still clueless on where she was going or how she was going to get there. But she was happy, and that was a first.

  A few minutes later she heard a cry, mixed with a babble. She sat up slowly, wondering if Easton was with Grace, but she was certain she heard him go outside.

  Quickly Georgia pulled herself together. Grace’s babbles were fading and her cry was becoming stronger.

  Georgia didn’t have a clue where she was in the house, beyond the obvious, Easton’s bedroom, she could only follow the sound. When she opened the door across from the bed, she found a bathroom, but the crying was louder. She pushed through the door on the other side, which opened into a nursery.

  Grace was in a dark oak sleigh crib, crying as she stood on the side, staring at a door on a different side of the room. When she saw Georgia her crying stopped instantly, and she started to jump in place, only pausing to reach out for Georgia.

  Georgia glanced over her shoulder, looking for Easton then moved forward. Grace squealed in joy right as Georgia picked her up, then hugged her as tightly as she could, babbling all the while.

  “Oh sweet girl…you kept a big secret from me,” Georgia said quietly as she looked down at Grace and wiped her tears away. She could see Easton in her eyes, the same knowing glint he had.

  Georgia was swaying Grace back and forth, when all the sudden Grace almost leaped out of her arms, saying ‘da, da, da,’ over and over.

  Georgia looked up to see Easton standing in the doorway with a bottle in hand and a hard expression across his face, one that she didn’t understand, at least not at first.

  Slowly Easton walked toward them, unable to ignore Grace’s call. Once in his arms, Grace reached back for Georgia to come closer but Easton had lifted her higher on his side.

  “Truman said it’s hard to see anything at your house without power.”

  Georgia twitched a smile. “Did you tell him just to light up my five hundred candles?”

  He didn’t grin the way she thought he would.

  “It would be best to stay at Memphis’s tonight, until we can check it out.”

  “Right,” Georgia said slowly.

  “My mom is stuck at work.” He glanced down at Grace. “You can take my truck if you want to bail.” He nodded to toward the door he’d just came through. “Keys are in it.”

  “That’s what you want?” she asked.

  “Be best,” he said, not meeting her stare.

  She went to ask him what his issue was, who flipped his asshole switch, but she couldn’t with Grace there. Not when she saw how careful he was with her when he moved her to a cradle position and handed her the bottle.

  Instead, she moved past him leaving the way he told her to. She was mad, embarrassed, and confused enough to leave but that wasn’t her first instinct—and her father always told her the first one was the right one. She paused in the hallway, then moved forward, not to leave, but to go back into his bedroom and wait on him.

  She sat on the edge of Easton’s bed and stared forward, through the bathroom, into the nursery, and watched him sway Grace, the pensive gaze on his face. She knew that look, it was his wall.

  Keeping her stare on him, she laid down and silently watched from a distance. The bond she saw between him and his daughter stole her breath away. All of his ridged edges broke away when she was in his arms. She could still sense how protective he was, and rightly so, but the tenderness—a sight she was sure few had seen— was mesmerizing.

  Every second she fell harder for him.

  ***

  Before, Easton had rushed from the house with his radio in hand because he knew it would wake Grace. The second the night air hit his face and he spoke to Truman, his head started to clear. The space had allowed him to break the powerful erotic spell Georgia had the power to place over him.

  He wanted her, so bad it hurt. But pulling her into his life could be dangerous, for more reasons than he wanted to think about. Beyond his fear that she would have to endure the hell he was in, the threat that lingered in the air, he knew she was still figuring out who she was—what she wanted. He’d been there, walked her path. The last thing she needed, or he could imagine her wanting, was him and his baggage.

  Letting her go before she had the chance to break him, before either of them hurt each other again, was best. He needed to give her an out—one he knew she would take.

  Those words, reasons and excuses, were all rushing through his head as he came back in. The second he heard Grace he knew he was right, he knew that Georgia was surely ready to run. She was used to the single life on the road—not stopping an erotic rush to give a crying baby a bottle in the middle of the night.

  When he walked into the nursery and saw Georgia swaying his daughter, his life, side-to-side, whispering and smiling, any and all hope of him getting over Georgia Armstrong was destroyed.

&nbs
p; He couldn’t let her know that, though. He couldn’t guilt her into staying.

  He did his best not to look at her as he gave her a way out. And as he took care of his daughter and put her back to sleep, he told himself it was for the best.

  As soon as Grace was asleep he made his way back to the kitchen, pulled a beer out from the fridge and glanced down at the photo album. Carefully he started to turn the pages, thinking of every second of his life since he discovered Grace existed. None of it was easy.

  The irony of it all was Grace was just like him, never really letting anyone close—especially women. Not Georgia. No, Georgia had held her like she had always known her, and Grace, just like Easton, was under her spell.

  Lost in his thoughts and knowing he needed air, he took his beer outside hoping the silence of the night would clear his head. Two steps out, he stopped short. His truck was there. He glanced around the yard then went back in, glancing in each room he passed until he reached his. There, in the center of his bed, Georgia was sound asleep.

  At first he couldn’t make his feet move. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing, but then he moved forward and carefully lifted her and put her under the covers before he gently lay down next her. His fingertips traced her beautiful face. “You stayed,” he whispered.

  She never opened her eyes, but she spoke. “Because you lied.” She hooked her leg over his waist and burrowed deeper into his arms. “It wasn’t best to leave.”

  Easton was stiff at first, but then his arms carefully folded over her, his chin rested on the crown of her head. “I already told you once…I’m every kind of bad habit you don’t need.”

  “You lied then, too.”

  Easton nearly laughed because he could tell from the tone of her voice that she was more asleep than awake.

  “Doesn’t sound like I ever speak the truth to you, now does it.”

  With half-mast eyes Georgia looked up, carefully reached to trace his profile. “Tell me why you pull me in, only to push me away when I come to you.”

  The blunt question left him speechless.

  She tightened her leg around him. “I’m scared, too,” she whispered.

  His lips met hers, a slow sweet touch. “I don’t want you wrapped up in a hell that has nothing to do with you.”

  “What hell?” she asked, waking up a bit, feeling protective and defensive all at once.

  Easton’s hand eased down the side of her face, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Crazy ex hell.”

  “I got one of those,” she said with a lazy smile.

  Now Easton was the defensive one, “What’s he doing to you?”

  “Changing the subject, Easton Ballantine.”

  He breathed a smile.

  She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. “We’ll save this horrid topic for a more reasonable hour.”

  She felt his lips on her forehead, a silent agreement, and that was the last thing she knew until hours later when her phone vibrated in her back pocket, jarring her awake.

  Carefully she eased out of Easton’s arms and read her screen.

  It was a text from Memphis. Little bit you up? I’m rolling into town want me to grab breakfast?

  Half asleep she texted back: Yeah, but I need you to pick me up.

  In a town this small, there was no doubt someone was going to let the cat out of the bag about the house, let him know she almost burned it down. She wanted him to hear it from her first.

  He texted back: ?? Where are you?

  She cringed, knowing she had a lot of explaining to do and wrote out three texts before she finally texted one word: Easton’s.

  It felt like a year, but he finally responded with a: k, meaning she had left him speechless. Today’s going to be a blast, she thought sarcastically.

  It was dim outside which meant it was early. Instead of waking Easton she stared at him for endless moments, wondering what secrets were behind his walls.

  She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, then peeked in on Grace, finding her sound asleep, too. So perfect, she thought, questioning how anyone could ever leave her behind. How anyone could leave Easton.

  When Memphis texted her and told he was only ten minutes away she made her way back to Easton’s room and put her number in his phone then texted him, telling him she left with Memphis, that she had to deal with her house. She didn’t know how to ask him to meet up later so she simply said she’d talk to him soon.

  She decided it would be best to wait outside, and made her way there. The second she opened the back door, Cynthia was reaching to put her key in the door.

  Wide-eyed and blushing, Georgia put forth a half smile. “Um…it’s not what it looks like—I mean.”

  Cynthia laughed. “You mean you didn’t burn your dinner and station thirty-two didn’t respond and Kate didn’t beg you to babysit?”

  “Yeah…that happened,” Georgia said slowly.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “At you?” Georgia asked, shaking her head sure she heard her wrong.

  Cynthia pressed her lips together trying not to smile. “Marie has been plotting to get you and Easton together for years.”

  “Years?”

  Cynthia glanced away then back to Georgia. “We were having coffee, at the wake…we saw you and Easton,” Cynthia cleared her throat, “comfort each other.”

  Georgia slammed her hand over her mouth, sure she had never been more humiliated in her life. Which only made Cynthia laugh and reach to hug Georgia.

  “Oh my God,” Georgia managed to say as she stepped outside.

  Cynthia crossed her arms, still grinning. “Marie suggested that I ask you to take Grace’s photos. At first I thought you knew she was Easton’s, who I was.” She sighed. “Then, well then I thought it’d be best for the pair of you to figure out whatever on your own.”

  Georgia lifted a brow.

  Cynthia’s smile fell a bit. “I know it’s a lot, Georgia. Don’t feel pushed, okay?”

  “I don’t. Well, maybe away, but not into something.”

  Cynthia’s smile was completely gone then. “Figured he’d do that.”

  “You wanna tell me why? I can assume the obvious.”

  “Obvious?”

  “All this with Grace has to be raw, new. She’s not even a year old—he doesn’t want to rebound.”

  Cynthia sighed. “That’s not it. He doesn’t know how to let people in…not completely.”

  Before Georgia could dare to admit that she didn’t either, she heard Memphis pull up.

  “Gotta go,” she said with a nod, grateful for the escape.

  “Looking forward to our lunch date. You need anything for your house you tell me. I have tons of things stored away.”

  Georgia smiled sweetly and nodded, not really hearing a word she said. She was in a daze. It felt like her entire life was turned inside out in less than twenty-four hours.

  For better or worse…she had no clue.

  Chapter Twelve

  Memphis hadn’t taken an easy breath since he had gotten Georgia’s text. His sister was his world, and he’d lay down his life for Easton any day of the week, but the pair of them—he’d watched both their lives crumble, and watched them start to balance out. He didn’t know if this deal was going to help their balance or destroy it.

  He told himself they both had too much heart to start something they didn’t mean as his heavy hand ran across the short fur of the Catahoula leopard pup that was gifted to him. The puppy he intended to surprise Georgia with.

  His plan was to have her fall in love, then point out a hotel would not allow her to have the pup which meant she should move into his second floor. He had his speech raring to go, well practiced, up until the point where she texted Easton’s name.

  Memphis reached for the blanket around the pup and tucked her under it. “Let’s keep you a surprise until I figure out what your momma has gotten herself into,” he said to the pup, earning a whimper as she moved closer to his side and rest
ed her head on his lap.

  Memphis leaned against his doorframe and stared Georgia down as she climbed in the cab of his truck. She only met his eyes for a second, and that stare was shrouded with guilt. She nodded for him to go and looked forward. He shifted in his seat, put the truck in gear, and pulled away.

  “I was only gone for, like, thirty hours all together,” he said as he turned off Easton’s street. His tone was light, playful.

  She fidgeted in her seat like she always did when she didn’t want to tell him something.

  “We came here to get your spare key.”

  That made no sense to him. There was a spare at the firehouse, which was where Easton should have been last night.

  “You lost my key?” he asked dismissively, waiting for the real truth.

  She bit her lip. “Not really. I left it somewhere.”

  He wasn’t going to pull this out of her because he knew if you wanted Georgia to talk, you had to stay silent; when you asked questions, she felt threatened.

  “I left it in the house that I bought and almost burned down, that your firehouse responded to and thought was not safe enough to stay in. Easton brought me here to get a key because we were halfway to your house before I figured out I’d left it there.”

  He stopped the truck, basically slammed on the brakes, causing a yelp from the pup. Georgia jumped against the door, not sure what that noise was or why he stopped in the middle of the neighborhood. Did he hit a dog? God, please say no!

  Right then, a pup crawled out from under the blanket, barking at Georgia like she was public enemy number one.

  “What the hell?”

  “You bought a house?”

  “Memphis, you have a dog on your lap that wants to kill me,” Georgia said, pointing out the obvious.

  He pulled the pup up. When she wasn’t growling, she was a pretty cool dog—golden with dark spots and blue eyes. The pup would lick Memphis’s face, then growl at Georgia just for spite.

  “You tell me about this house, and I’ll tell you about Haven.” Of all the things in the universe she could have said, that was the last thing he saw coming—a house.