Chapter 14
fourteen
DREW
I wake to find myself alone in Georgie’s bed.
There’s no sound coming from the bathroom next door, and I hold my breath, keep completely still to see if I can hear her anywhere else in the house.
The only noise I can distinguish is the whistle of the wind as it rushes past the house.
A glance at her bedside clock tells me she isn’t at work. It’s a couple of hours before sunrise. She shouldn’t even be up getting ready to head to work yet.
Tossing back the covers, I switch the lamp on and look around for my clothes. My gaze lands on a neatly folded pile on her dresser; I don’t need the belt curled up on top to know they’re mine.
How I slept through her getting out of bed and moving around the room is beyond me.
I’m usually a light sleeper.
I still can’t hear anything in the house and I pull my clothes on quickly because now I’m sure something is wrong.
Did she lie last night?
Did what I did make her leave?
Did she?—?
The slam of a door echoes through the house and I sprint in the direction of the kitchen. What I find slows my racing heart but does nothing to clear the confusion of waking alone at three in the morning.
“Oh!” She presses a hand to her chest. “You scared me.”
“Scared you?” I move toward her. “Why the hell were you outside? Is everything all right?”
“Oh, I, um…” She looks behind her as if the answer to where she’s been at this hour is written on the back door. “I just needed…”
Her gaze comes back to mine and I know the next words she speaks will be a lie.
“I had to move some of my things to the, ah, apartment behind the garage.”
Not only is she lying but what she says doesn’t make any sense. “Why?”
“Well. I, um, I put Granny’s house on that website and as of tomorrow afternoon someone will be staying here for three weeks.”
“Website…” I want to shake my head, see if I can rattle things around enough to line them up so they make sense. “Someone is staying here? With you?”
“Oh, no! Not with me. I’ll be out back.”
“Out back in the apartment behind the garage?” I replay everything she’s just said and I think I may have untangled the confusion except… Website? ”
“Yes. Spend the Night.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out because if I’m understanding what’s going on, Georgie has rented her house for three weeks to a complete stranger. I can’t decide what emotion is currently battering my insides.
Is it anger?
Disbelief?
Fear?
A little of all three?
Taking a deep breath, I attempt to keep my voice void of all sentiment. “You rented your house. For three weeks. And you’re staying in an apartment at the back of the garage. Do I have that right?”
“Yes. Isn’t it great? One booking is going to pay for the furnace I need to replace.”
“Hmm…” I need my coat. And shoes. Spinning around, I go in hunt of them.
“Drew?” Her boots echo on the floor behind me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to check out this apartment to make sure it’s safe for you to stay there.” I want to tell her she can’t let a stranger stay in her house but I have no say in that. Hell, I probably don’t have a say in where she stays either.
“You don’t need to do that. I’ve got it ready.”
“Does it have a deadlock?”
“Ah—”
“Heating? A refrigerator? A bed? A bathroom?”
I’m rattling off things I think she’ll need to live for three weeks while I shove my bare feet into my boots. I want to tell her I’ll pay to replace the furnace. Or anything else that needs doing around here.
Barring that, I want to drag her to my place and keep her there.
The idea of her being forced—okay, not forced because she made the decision to do this—the idea of her moving out of her home so she can afford to replace the furnace...
My fists clench and I punch my arms through the sleeves of my coat. Turning around, I head back to the kitchen. “Show me this apartment.”
I know I’m being an asshole. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to fix this except I’m not even sure what it is that needs fixing other than the furnace.
Hand on the backdoor handle, I glance over my shoulder to see Georgie looking at me with confusion. “Where are the keys?”
“It’s not locked.”
“You left it unlocked? Is it always unlocked?”
“No. Yes.”
I swear, there has to be steam coming out my ears with the level of rage that rolls through me. “It’s not locked because it doesn’t have a lock?” Fuck I hope I’m not understanding her correctly.
“It’s got a lock on the inside.”
“Wait. Wait.” I let go of the door and turn to face her. “Are you telling me the place you’re going to live for the next three weeks has no way to be locked from the outside?”
“Yes.”
“So, what, you just leave it unlocked unless you’re home and then there’s a way to lock it?”
Her only response is a nod.
My face has to be bright red with how hot my anger is. Forget steam coming out my ears, I’m pretty sure the top of my head is about to blow off.
I can’t speak. It’s best that I don’t right now anyway, because I’m liable to say something I’ll regret and Georgie will never forgive me for.
Pivoting, I let myself out into her cold, dark backyard and head for the semi-detached garage. I’ve not been here before but I can guess how things are laid out by the other houses in Evergreen Lake that are similar.
I don’t wait for Georgie to join me and if I’m honest, it’s best she doesn’t. Not until I get my shit together.
It’s like the other night when she tried to walk home late on her own; my whole being objects to this new information. I know this town doesn’t have a crime rate like Chicago, and the crimes that do occur here are minor at most but…
I can’t get the image of her being attacked—or worse—out of my head.
There are two doors toward the rear of the garage, the one closest to the house has to lead into the garage itself, so I grab the knob of the other and twist.
One step in has my gut twisting as well.
This isn’t an apartment.
It’s barely a room.
And the handbasin in the corner does not qualify as a bathroom. I hope there’s one on the other side of the door at the far side of the room.
Striding past the twin bed, I note the cheap electric heater on the wall above it and the boxes of food and clothes stacked at the end of it, the small—like hotel room small—fridge in the corner.
When I get to the other door, I have to take a deep breath before I open it because judging by what I just walked through I don’t think I’m going to find what’s on the other side acceptable.
And I’m right.
The bathroom of this apartment is a toilet.
Nothing else.
No bath.
No shower.
Not even a basin.
Obviously the last is missing from this closet because it’s in the main area which isn’t much bigger than a closet either.
Fuck .
When I look around I realize this place isn’t as big as the cells we have at the precinct.
There is no way she’s staying here for three weeks.
I turn only to turn again and put my hands on the door frame, my fingers aching with how hard I grip it.
I can’t go back to Georgie yet.
I need to rein in my anger.
I need a solid, rational argument against her using this space and—if she insists on renting her house to a tourist—another argument for her staying with me.
We might not have been together long, but years of observing her from afar have given me insight into the way she thinks, and moving in with me a week into our relationship isn’t something Georgie Bookman would agree to without compelling reasons.
After being demanding last night, I’m not sure how to approach her about this. Could I work up to it? Possibly convince her after she’s spent a couple of nights in this cold, cramped space?
Facing the exit, I study the door and discover the lock she mentioned is nothing more than a slide bolt. I move closer to inspect both door and frame and an idea begins to form.
The building is sturdy, and the door solid, both would easily support a deadbolt—lockable from inside and out. I’ll get one and fit it myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it and if I play this right, I’ll have her safely living in my secure, warm apartment before the end of the week.
In the meantime, I’ll park my truck out front and sleep in it to make sure she’s safe.
Nodding, I step out into the cold and stare at the back of the house. Whoever her renter is will have a straight shot from back door to her door and I’m not sure I like that.
A scan of the yard reveals nothing I could use to screen this part of the garage from the house. And thinking about the garage makes me question if it’s part of the rental agreement.
I think about setting up a couple of cameras, but they won’t do any good in the moment if something were to happen. Although they might give me a little piece of mind. Not much, but enough to have me keeping my inner Neanderthal in check.
“Drew?”
Georgie’s voice floats across the yard from the back door. She’s standing in the open back doorway, the light from the kitchen behind her. I study her for a moment. In particular her boots. Because there’s snow on the ground in her yard, higher than my ankles. And her shoes barely look wet.
Frowning, I sweep my gaze over the lawn. The only set of footprints from the house to the garage are mine. If she was moving things out here like she said, where are her tracks?
One more thing telling me she lied about what she was doing.
I want to confront her. Point out the evidence to prove my conclusion. Except the worried look on her face has me also wanting to soothe her. Wanting to pull her into my chest and tell her everything will be fine.
At this hour my brain is not firing on all cylinders and I don’t want to say or do anything to damage the fragility of us.
We’re new, and one wrong move could destroy the foundation of a relationship in a way that doesn’t appear right away.
I can’t bear the thought of doing that to us.
Fuck. Didn’t I already make a move that could have been devastating?
Last night’s sex was wild and uninhibited in a way I’ve never experienced and because of my lack of thought, lack of knowledge, I could have ruined everything.
And the last thing I want to risk losing is Georgie.
I’ve known her—watched her—for seven years. There isn’t a nefarious bone in her body. There is no chance she’s cheating or…anything.
But she’s hiding something.
I have to hope it isn’t anything other than this stupid renting her house out thing.
A gust of wind sends a shiver down my spine and I realize standing out in the cold isn’t going to solve anything.
Neither is it going to make her tell me what’s going on.
I make a concerted effort to get my emotions under control as I pull the door to the garage room closed and walk toward Georgie.
The shadows dancing across her face make it hard to determine what she’s thinking. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to know. I want to erase the last few minutes from my mind.
I’m not one to put my head in the sand. Although I did it with my ex, I don’t want to do it with Georgie. Except everything in me is yelling to leave it alone.
And I will.
For now.
But tomorrow is another day and I have no intention of ignoring what is happening even if I have no idea what that is.
“The wind is picking up. We might be in for a storm,” she says as she steps back to let me enter the house.
With a click that seems to echo like a gunshot, the door closes behind me and I can only hope this isn’t a fatal wound to our relationship.