7. Georgia
Georgia
Morning sunlight slanted across the floorboards of the farmhouse bedroom. I lay still, my head on Paul’s bare chest, his arm wrapped around my waist. His hand rested on my hip like an anchor, keeping me right here.
But my mind was already spinning.
I tilted my head and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right over the steady, thumping beat of his heart.
Paul shifted, his hand sliding slowly up the curve of my back. “Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he rumbled, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. “I don’t want this to be a dream, Georgia.”
“It’s not a dream,” I whispered against his skin.
But what if it was?
I rolled onto my back, pulling the thin, faded quilt up higher while I thought about the logistics. A faint, brown water stain bloomed near the crown molding, mocking me as I stared at the ceiling.
Who knew what frightful repair bills lived within these walls?
And even though my Granda Henry had left me this place because he wanted me to move back, that didn’t mean I could handle it.
“The plumbing has major issues,” I said, picking up the heavy conversation we had abandoned last night. “And the front corner of the foundation is sagging. You can literally feel the dip when you walk into the kitchen.”
Paul shifted, studying me. I could feel his eyes burning right into me.
“I can’t even imagine what the electric bill would be to cool a place this large,” I added, my throat tightening as the list of problems piled up in my throat.
Paul was silent for a long moment. He reached out and gently tucked a tangled strand of hair behind my ear.
“Anything can be overcome if it’s what you really want in life,” he said quietly. He held my gaze, his dark eyes serious. “What do you want in life, Georgia?”
My breath hitched. “I have no idea.”
I turned onto my side, pulling my knees up toward my chest under the covers.
“For the longest time, all I wanted was to move back to Red Oak Mountain. Leaving all my friends, my grandparents, everything I knew here was… really hard.”
Paul kept his hand resting on my shoulder, his thumb stroking my skin.
“I felt like the foundation of my life had been ripped right out from under me.”
I leaned against him. “And I didn’t fit in. Not at first. I had to work really hard to try to make a place for myself there in Austin.”
“But you did?” he asked.
“Yeah. And after that, I told myself I would never move again.” My voice dropped. “So, I made my roots in Austin.”
“You must have a good life down there,” he rumbled.
“I have some good friends, but it’s not like it was after we graduated high school.
Now everyone’s so busy these days. We work long hours.
We commute. We’re exhausted. And some of my best friends have settled down and started their own families.
We don’t get together very often anymore.
” I swallowed hard, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue.
“It’s lonely there, Paul. It’s really lonely. ”
My lumberjack shifted closer, his chest brushing my shoulder as his arm looped around me. “Red Oak Mountain is the exact opposite. You can’t take two steps down Main Street without someone knowing your business and asking about your mama.”
Paul didn’t follow it up with a heavy sales pitch. He didn’t try to talk me into believing I belonged here or try to solve my problems with pretty promises.
I appreciated the space he was giving me, but the lack of pressure terrified me more. Was I really thinking about ditching my whole life for this man? For this town?
“I’m just so scared, Paul. What if I make a mistake? Would you even want me to stay?”
He started to respond, but the buzz of my cell phone shattered the moment.
I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. The screen flashed Sean’s name.
Oh no. I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. I hesitated for a second, my thumb hovering over the screen, then hit accept.
“Hello?”
“Georgia, great news,” Sean’s voice chirped rapidly through the speaker. “The buyers are willing to drop the repair contingency and the assignment clause completely. They want the property as-is. But they need a ten-thousand-dollar price drop to offset their risk.”
Shit. It was the perfect offer.
It was exactly what I’d been waiting for.
I looked back over my shoulder. Paul was still lying naked on the sheets, his body relaxed, looking like a chiseled mountain god. But his eyes were sharp, watching me intently.
“How long do I have to decide?” I asked.
“Twenty-four hours,” Sean said, his tone turning urgent. “They need an answer by tomorrow morning, or they’re walking away to put an offer on the Prairie Woods place.”
“Okay,” I managed to say as my throat closed up. “I’ll let you know.”
I hit end and set the phone face down on the nightstand.
Then I clutched the quilt to my chest, staring at the blank wall opposite the bed.
Paul sat up slowly beside me, the quilt pooling at his waist. “Everything all right?”
“The buyers came back with a good offer,” I croaked out. “One that fits within my range. They dropped all the contingencies.”
Paul went perfectly still. The relaxed warmth radiating from his body vanished, replaced by a rigid, guarded tension.
“I guess that’s good news, right?” he asked, his voice completely flat. “What you wanted?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I think so.”
“With the sale of the house, I can put in an offer on a condo I’ve been eyeing,” I said, the words spilling out in a nervous, defensive rush. “It has a balcony. It’s really close to my office, so I won’t have to sit in traffic much.”
Paul nodded slowly, resignation etched across his face.
“Congratulations, Georgia. I’m glad it all worked out for you.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. I could already feel him pulling away from me.
He threw the quilt back and stood up. He grabbed his jeans from the floor and stepped into them, pulling the zipper up with quick, sharp movements.
“I should probably get back to the logging camp,” he rumbled, reaching for his heavy work boots. “Tomorrow’s a workday, and I have things to prep beforehand.”
My heart split. Half of it in Austin. And half of it right here in this bed with this sexy, steady lumberjack.
“Paul? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Of course I am. You told me from the start that I was just temporary. I’ve loved the time I got to spend with you,” Paul rumbled quietly, not looking at me as he shoved his feet into his boots. “I hope the condo purchase goes well.”
He stood up and grabbed his keys and wallet from the top of the dresser. He didn’t even bother putting his t-shirt back on. He just slung it over his broad shoulder and walked toward the bedroom door.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t form a single word to stop him.
He paused in the doorframe. He turned back, his dark eyes locking onto mine one last time. Even though he was a serious man, I’d never seen him look this serious before.
“I won’t beg you to stay.” His voice was agonizingly steady. “But I won’t pretend I didn’t want you to. Goodbye, Georgia.”
And with that, he turned and walked down the hall. A few seconds later, the front door clicked shut.
And that’s how I discovered what it felt like when the man of your dreams walks out of your life.
I sat alone in the large, empty bed, my hands gripping my grandmother’s quilt so hard my knuckles turned white.
Damn him.
He should have fought for me.
Or made a big proclamation.
Instead, Paul had simply given me the dignity of choosing my own path. It was just like him to do that for me.
But didn’t he know that made the choice a thousand times harder?
I wanted him here, telling me all the ways it could work out. Telling me he wanted me to stay.
No, I wanted even more than that. I wanted him to demand that I stay. To tell me he couldn’t live without me.