Chapter 6 #2
I barely notice the beauty of the delicately carved staircase as I follow her upstairs, her beautiful ass in those pink leggings stealing my full attention.
“You know, I haven’t even been up here,” she says once we reach the top of the steps. “I’m afraid of what we might find.”
I glance into the first room we come across, a small bedroom. “Looks like it’s in pretty good shape.”
“God, I hope so. I’m hoping I can make the basic repairs, give the place a new paint job, and get it sold.”
Fuck, that hurts my heart. “You ever thought about fixing it up for real? You could get some serious money for this place. It’s a diamond in the rough.”
“You know a lot about real estate?”
“Not really, but my family is in the residential construction business, so I know a lot about houses. And how a renovation can double the value of a special property. Now, obviously, you have to put in a chunk of money to get the payoff…”
Her fingers twist around the string of her hoodie. “The money’s not really an issue.”
“Oh yeah? You sitting on a fortune, sweet Georgia?”
She chuckles, a sound so endearing I could play it on loop and never get tired of it.
“Hardly. But college is all paid for, and my aunt left most of her money to me.” Her forehead wrinkles.
“Which is still a mystery. But anyway, I know the house deserves more than a quick paint job—my aunt deserves it—but I can’t do that. ”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Time. Effort. Decision-making not being my strong suit. I’d have no idea where to begin or how to find a trustworthy contractor.”
I run a hand along the hallway’s peeling blue floral wallpaper. “Barring any massive problems lurking behind these walls, it wouldn’t be as big a project as you think.” I look at her. “And I could help you.”
Her gaze catches on mine, crystal-blue pools I could stare at all day if I didn’t know how much trouble they could get me into. I want to reach out and touch her so badly.
“You’d do that?” Something about the way she says it cuts through me. Like she’s been waiting her whole life for someone to offer to help.
“Help you, marry you, give you everything I own.”
Laughing, she shakes her head, her raven mane shining beneath the blown-glass pendant lights.
“Sorry, I said that out loud, didn’t I? We can focus on the help for now. Trust me, I’m good at what I do.” I wink.
She bites her lip, pulling in her smile. “That’s an amazing offer, Cash.”
“Is it?” I shrug and look around. “It’s a win-win for me. I’d get to work on the most beautiful house in town with the most beautiful girl in town.”
An adorable shade of pink spreads over her cheeks. “Cash…”
“Sorry, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that.”
“Deal.”
“So think about it, and in the meantime, show me the rest of this house.”
The second floor is bedroom after bedroom, though Georgia tells me her great-aunt never had children and, as far as she knows, lived here alone.
Half the rooms must have been used for storage, because next to the beds and dressers are cardboard boxes and plastic storage bins, yellowed and brittle with age.
At the end of the hallway, we turn a corner, and Georgia stops with a soft, surprised “Oh.”
“What’s wrong?” All I see is a room with the door cracked open.
“This was…” She swallows. “This was my room.”
She approaches it without making a single sound on the otherwise-creaky hardwood floors. I don’t understand what’s happening except that something’s come over her, but I follow her lead and let her have her quiet. She pushes the door open and stands at the threshold while I wait behind her.
Minutes pass before she speaks. “This was my bedroom when I stayed with Aunt Julie. After my parents died,” she murmurs. “She never changed the room.”
Shit. Is she going to cry? I put my hand on her shoulder, feeling like a jackass for flirting with her and trying to convince her to pour money and time into this place without considering the memories that obviously hang in every corner.
“Are you okay?”
She turns her head, zeroing in on my hand where it rests on her shoulder, but I don’t find the tears I expected.
“I’m fine. Just a little…I didn’t expect to remember it all so well.
” My hand drops to my side as she takes a cautious step onto the Persian rug, faded and worn thin.
“This house really was gorgeous when I was a kid. Aunt Julie kept it up so beautifully.”
Curiosity wells up inside me as she strolls through the room. What memories are bombarding her? Warm and comforting or achingly painful? It takes everything I have to mind my business and keep my mouth shut.
“I remember visiting as a little kid with my mom and dad and sleeping in this room.” Her elegant fingers glide down the carved wooden post of the canopy bed, and she smiles. At least some of her memories are happy. “I thought this was a princess bed.”
I hang back, trying to let her have her privacy despite being unable to take my eyes off her face. It’s almost like I’m witnessing a private moment between her and her memories, but she doesn’t seem to mind my presence, and I feel unexpectedly honored.
“Sorry,” she says when she finishes her walkabout. “Blast from the past.”
“Don’t be. Clearly this place holds some memories.”
We step out into the hallway, and she pulls the bedroom door shut behind her. Her brow furrows as we drift back toward the stairs.
“Something on your mind?”
Her eyes lock with mine, studying me with no pretense. The same serene energy from that night at the Phantom settles over me like a cloud, and I breathe easier. “Truthfully,” she finally says, “it’s not just the time and effort that gives me pause about fixing this house up.”
“Tell me.”
I know it’s only in my head, but the house seems to have grown quieter. We stand close, and before she speaks, I notice a tiny white scar on the bridge of her nose. “There are a lot of memories here.”
“Of that summer?”
She nods.
“Can I ask what happened to your mom and dad?” It’s a risk to ask her—bringing up more hurt when it’s not my business—but the way she doesn’t shy away tells me she doesn’t mind.
“Boating accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lifting her shoulders in a resigned shrug, she turns to face the hallway again, and I immediately miss her attention. “I guess I just don’t want to…get too deep in this place.”
“The house, you mean? Or this town?”
Her eyes meet mine, showcasing her surprise. I’m better at reading people than you’d think. “Both, I suppose. I’m here for five months, and then I’m gone. I came to do the job that needs to be done and move on.”
I wish I knew what was right for her, or at least what she wanted me to say. “That’s okay too. If all you want to do is get the job done, I’m here for it.”
“Thanks. It’s for the best, anyway. Taking on a big project would mean staying here longer than a semester, and I have a lot waiting for me back home.”
Jealousy stabs me right through the stomach.
She has a man back home; of course she does.
How could a girl like this not? She has a whole life I’ll never know about.
Which means I should leave her alone before I waste even more time thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. Or touch her. Or call her mine.
“Here for you either way.” I smile despite the violent storm raging inside me. “Whatever feels right is okay.”
But as she scans the foyer below, her eyes coming alive, that sharp jealousy hardens into pure determination.
I want to know what’s behind those pools of blue—what she’s seeing and remembering.
I want to get close to this girl. I may not know much about her, but I do know she’s not married.
Which means it’s not too late to make her mine.
“Thanks for the ride and all the help with the boxes,” Georgia says a few minutes later as she leads me to the front door, and I follow, a bit hypnotized by the scent that trails her and the way her hips sway. “You saved the day.”
“I’m your man.” Reaching for the doorknob, I give her a wink that makes her flush. It’s that pink in her cheeks and the light dancing in her eyes, barely disguised by shyness, that makes me stop. “Let me ask you something, Georgia.”
I wait until she gives me her full attention, then lean against the doorframe. “I’ve been accused many times of being pushy, so if you find yourself agreeing, I don’t blame you. But tell me this: What if you got to see this house come back to life the way you remember it? Would you regret it?”
Silence stretches between us while she stares through me, almost as if she’s seeing something other than me. Then her face softens. “No.”
“So let me help you.”
All hints of shyness disappear, leaving something soft and sincere that I can’t quite name. “You know that offer means a lot, right? I’m just not sure I can accept it and…” Her eyes drift down my body like she can’t help it. “And take this on.”
Straightening up, I nod and try to keep my face neutral. If she says no, I’ve got a lot of brainstorming to do to figure out how to get close to her, but I don’t want to pressure her into something she doesn’t want. “I get it. Just promise me you’ll think about it?”
“I promise.”
I want to hug her, craving her body close to mine and one more whiff of her perfume to get me through until next time. But I hold back and reach for the doorknob again. She’s already given me more than I could have asked for today. “Until next time, darling.”