Chapter Twenty-Two Georgia
W hat would be the best high after your first sexual experience?
Probably feeling that you’re safe, everything is okay, and the guy loved you. Believing he didn’t use you.
That’s why I’ve waited for someone like Douglas. I fall asleep in his arms, knowing he’ll be here in the morning, knowing this is the start of something good.
I’m right.
When I wake up in the morning, there’s a heavenly scent of coffee and toast near my head—and a head between my legs.
“Wh-what? Hi!” I giggle and gasp, pulling the sheet more firmly across my top half.
Douglas looks up at me with a little smirk. “I thought we could both have breakfast in bed, love.” He nods his chin to the nightstand where a cup of coffee and some buttered toast sit—and then he swirls his tongue over my mound before starting to kiss and suck on every inch of me.
“Oh, God. Okay.” I squirm around him, getting used to this sensation and how it makes my calves clench and my toes curl. Fingers push inside of me as he hums happily between my legs.
“Delicious,” he whispers.
“You’re so thorough,” I squeak, which is not the sexiest compliment, but it’s what my brain can cobble together from all the good feelings I have. I’m warm, safe, loved, and there’s breakfast in bed—which is a combo of luxury and being provided for. There’s also the crazy good oral sex that is pushing me to a rapid orgasm as I’m still sensitive from last night.
“Oh, you know us accountants. We’re always checking and double checking our figures, analyzing every last detail.”
Every one of his words is punctuated by little licks and sucks, by the sharp brush of tusks across my thighs, making my skin prickle and my hips buck.
“I love accountants,” I gasp.
“All of them?” Douglas’ head pops up long enough to give me an accusatory glance. “Or just one particular one?”
“One sexy Scottish Orc who lives in my development. Love a thorough accountant,” I moan. “They make the best boyfriends.”
His wrist starts to pump in faster thrusts as he looks up at me, one eyebrow arched. “Boyfriend, eh?”
I can’t talk when I’m coming. Well, not the logical, sensible sort of talking. “Anh! Yes!”
“Good.”
THAT’S THE BEST WAY to wake up.
Want to know the worst way to wake up after a night of sexual exploration and a morning session of coffee and coming?
Maybe it’s not the worst way, but it’s not the greatest thing to come downstairs in one of Douglas’ shirts (which is a mini-dress on me) and see your parents coming up the walk.
Seeing your parents cock their heads as they look at your car parked next to your brand new, much older boyfriend’s car and then look at each other.
“I’m not in a bra! I can’t find it!” I gasp, clutching the partially buttoned shirt across my chest.
Douglas comes downstairs after me, kilt on and white undershirt pulling down over his wet black and silver hair. “What’s that, love?”
“My parents! My bra!”
Douglas’ deep green skin turns the color of a sickly chameleon. “Your parents?”
The very insistent knocking on the door sends me racing back upstairs. “I’m getting changed!” I hiss.
“But—”
Bra!” I hiss back, pushing past him.
As I frantically search the bedroom floor for the clothes I was wearing last night, I go through a few scenarios.
Angry parents. Bloody nose (on Douglas). Uncomfortable explanations.
Parents okay. Calmly telling them the truth. They accept it. Uncomfortable explanations.
We lie. Say I just came over to drop off some food and the accounting stuff.
But why the hell are you here at —I look at my phone and see the time— 5:30 in the morning?
Why are my parents here at 5:30 in the morning?
My phone (which has like four percent of its battery left) shows several texts from my mom.
Mom: Fishing at sunrise! Fresh catch.
There’s a picture of my dad holding up several fish.
Mom: We’ll drop some off at your house, but you need to cook them or freeze them right away.
Mom: Should we meet you at the coffee shop?
Mom: You’re not answering, and I know you’re up. Going to bring the fish to your place and check to see if you’re okay.
“Oh my God. Why??”
Downstairs, I hear my father’s voice—loud, hearty, and just a little tense. “Dougie! Morning. I’m sorry to disturb ye, but we were on our way to Georgia’s place and spotted her car.”
“Right! She’s here, she’ll be right down. Just using the facilities.” Douglas’s voice is equally tense.
“She came over so early?” My mother’s voice is hesitant and high-pitched.
“Hi, Mom!” I shout suddenly. “Dad? Is that you?”
“Georgia!” The relief in my parents’ voices is evident.
“Be right down.”
I pray I look like a girl on her way to work and not someone who just came all over her new boyfriend’s tongue.
“Georgia has asked me to do a wee bit of bookkeeping for the coffee shop so she can work more on the catering and whatnot.”
“And I’m sorry I had to drop them off so early, Douglas, but with Georgie and Claire out of town, I’ve been crazy busy. Whew. Thanks for letting me use your bathroom. I need to cut back on the coffee.” I emerge with a smile and hug my confused parents.
“We brought you some trout,” my father strokes his long braid, a sign that he’s puzzling something out. “It’s in the boot of the car.”
“I texted you,” Mom explains, faint indignation in her voice.
“You did? Sorry! I must’ve left my phone unplugged last night and it didn’t charge.” I gave her another hug. “Sorry, again, Douglas. Next time I’ll drop things off on my way home, not my way in to work,” I give a careless chuckle. Well, I hope it sounds careless.
“I told you I was an early riser. It’s no bother.” Douglas smiles at me. “Um. Coffee, Ian? Farrah?”
What the hell is he doing?
“No, thanks. Fish to take home to the deep freeze. Georgia, d’ye want some? Douglas? There’s plenty.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure.”
My mother is staring at me, staring holes into my soul. I look for my purse. At some point, Douglas must’ve come down and hung it up and put the food I brought over away because it’s not still sitting in the hallway.
“Georgia. Come with me and get the fish. Ian would probably like to stay and have a word with his old friend.”
Oh no. “Sure thing, Mom. Uh, bye, Douglas. See you later!” Nooo. I want to go kiss him goodbye.
“Goodbye, Georgia. I’ll bring those books around by closing time.”
My heart lightens. A day without seeing him feels too long, but I can survive until tonight.
Gosh, no wonder all my married friends turn into such codependent freaks.
Outside, my mother grips my elbow and hustles me to Dad’s car. “Georgia. You know that this is a small town, and we must know a dozen people who live in this development. Zagan and Ivy. Calder and Janet. Charlotte and Robbie, Tessa and Leo...” Her beautiful face shines in the early morning sun, silvery blonde wisps blowing across her hard stare—reminding me that although she looks gentle and nurturing, my mother is capable of fierce magic.
“Uh. Yes. It’s a nice development,” I squeak.
Her voice drops into a maternal growl. “So all I have to do is ask anyone on this street if your car was parked here all night.”
“Mother!”
“Georgia, you barely know him!”
“Mom, he’s—”
“He’s a wonderful person, I know, I know. But he’s only just moved back to town, and you spent the night!” She steps back, biting her lip. “It’s my fault. I’ve been pressuring you to date.”
“Mom, I like Douglas. A lot. I do want to date. I want to date him .”
“Well, you’re doing it backward!”
“I’m... We didn’t go ‘all the way.’” Okay, I think what we did definitely counts as sex, but I want to reassure my mother, who looks stricken and guilty. “He is going to help with the accounting, though. And I did drop by with the books. But then...” I twist the belt of my shirtwaist dress nervously. “This isn’t our first date, Mom. We just didn’t tell you.”
“Oh! Oh, thank God!” My mother careens into me and hugs me so hard I hear something snap in my back. “Ow. I probably needed that.” I wince.
“We have to get back inside before your father kills Douglas!” she gasps and turns on her heel.
“Murders Douglas? Why?” I race after her, fish forgotten.
“Oh, sweetie. Your father’s no fool.”
THE SIGHT THAT GREETS me when we fling open the door isn’t what I expected. I expected Douglas to be in a chokehold or maybe a headlock.
Instead, Douglas is earnestly nodding, and my father is sipping coffee.
“I should have asked you formally, only I thought you were hinting at it that day on the phone. Chloe, you said, but I meant Georgia.”
“Oh! Oh, yes, a successful businesswoman ready to find love! Georgia!” My dad looks as if the secrets of the universe have just been revealed to him. “Well... I’m pleased as punch at that. Well made up!” My father sighs—and in the next instant, his voice is a growl, and his tusks jut forward along with his wide jaw. “But I’ll no’ have you messin’ with my bairn. She’s been waiting a long time for a worthy mate, and you’ll have to prove that you're serious.”
“I’m very serious about her. I want to take things slow and steady. You know me, Ian. Did I ever rush? Even when we were about to lose a stag, would I move any faster than I felt was safe?”
“No, ye dinnae, and if you weren’t so good with a bow, you’d have gone hungry more than once.” My dad reaches out and tousles Douglas’ hair like he’s twelve instead of forty-something. “But Georgia’s not getting any younger. Don’t you take too damn long about it, or I’ll—”
“Dad!” I burst out, finally able to scrape my jaw off of my sternum. “Stop! Oh my gosh! We just started dating, and Douglas is a perfect gentleman! He makes me feel very safe and secure. I was just...” I stop for a second and look at the man I’m falling in love with, taking in the hesitant smile on his face and loving the way it finally reaches his eyes. I don’t want to share our intimate details, but we were sort of caught red-handed.
I’m very close to my parents, always have been. In a way, it’s nice that Douglas is “part of the family” already. I don’t have to worry about him fighting for my father’s approval, that’s for sure. “It was nice to fall asleep in his arms and know I was safe and no one would push me to do things or move too fast. Douglas is everything you said I should look for in a partner.” I want to use the word mate, but that sounds too big for public knowledge. And yes, I know, Douglas isn’t the one rushing me into bed— I’m the one pushing like a horny bunny rabbit. (My parents don’t need to know that.)
“Of course he is, is Dougie! I practically raised him! No finer lad!”
“Thanks, Ian.” Douglas beams.
I guess it’s good that my dad and my boyfriend are having a total bromance. My mother still looks kind of stunned—but happy-stunned.
“How many dates have you two had?” she asks.
“Three,” we both answer quickly. Dinner. Inventory. Failed dinner and accounting.
Four, if we count breakfast, but I can’t tell Mom that.
“That’s lovely. Well. Well, Ian, we should have Georgia and Douglas over for dinner next week.”
“Aye! And at least you don’t have to worry about him ‘meeting the parents,’ sweetheart. I’ve known you both since you were wee ones.”
Douglas gives my dad an eye roll. “And I remember when you and Farrah started dating—if you can call snogging in the woods dating. I don’t think you two even made it to a third date before—”
“That’s enough of that, now, Dougie!” My dad darts a panicked glance between me and my mother. My mother is peony pink.
“You have fish in the car,” I whisper.
“We have fish in the car!” my mother parrots, much louder.
“Right! Uh. Georgia.” He kisses my cheek. “Dougie.” He wrings Douglas’ hand—and stares at him extra hard before he releases. “Mind how ye go, laddie,” he murmurs in a gritty voice, but he ends with a smile.
“Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom.” I hug and hustle my parents away as Douglas stands behind me, murmuring his own goodbyes.
When the door shuts, I sag against it, suddenly wheezing like I ran a mile in heels. “That should not have been so scary.”
“When you left with your mum, my entire life flashed before my eyes,” Douglas admits, leaning weakly against me, arm around my shoulders. I snuggle into his chest as he frowns. “It did, you know—because I thought maybe he’d tell me to leave, to get my hands off his little girl, even though you’re all grown up. And my life went whipping past—and I realized it’s been a long, gray slog for so long, and so many of my ‘memories’ are just since I met you.”
“Oh. Douglas, that’s beautiful,” I whisper, blinking up at him, stars in my eyes, tears suddenly on my lashes.
His laugh is soft and tired. “I cracked like a walnut as soon as he said, ‘Right, then.’ I told him you’d come over last night for dinner and accounting, gotten tired, and fallen asleep—fairly innocently.”
“Oh, good. Our stories mostly match. My mom probably knows that mostly innocent means more than a little naughty. We’re in the same book club, and we read a ton of romances with spicy bits. I don’t think she’ll care about my sex life—as long as she’s confident the guy will be good to me and is moving at the right pace.”
“I’m trying to go at the right pace. It’s... It’s not hard to fall in love with you, Georgia. It’s hard to forgive myself, to trust myself that I won’t hurt you or ruin the beautiful life you have here. Don’t want you down in that gray slog with me.”
I wrap my arms around Douglas’ middle and look up at him, my chin on his chest. “Well, I trust you. I’m littler than you, but I’ll pull you out of that sad swamp and bring you out to the beautiful places.”
But what if I can’t? Am I so arrogant that I think being perky and caffeinated can erase years of mourning and blaming himself? That a picnic and some hanky-panky in the coffee shop kitchen can really give a complex person like Douglas what he needs?
His hand strokes under my chin, down my throat. “The light dropped out of your eyes.”
“I have to be confident and in command behind the counter, and sometimes I think I can fix anything. I hope when I say stuff like ‘Oh, I’ll make everything beautiful’ that I’m not oversimplifying the issue. I know it could take time. I know it won’t be easy.” But I don’t care.
“See? You knowing that instantly makes it so much better. You said you trust me? Well, I trust you, too.” A soft smile slides across his face, and he kisses my forehead.
After that, he’s quiet, just holding onto me as I breathe in the scent of him, nestled against his chest.
“I have to go soon. The shop,” I whisper.
“Is it silly to say I’ll miss you?”
“Nope. Perfect. And I’ll miss you, too.”
“Be over later. Possibly for lunch.”
“I’ll save you a table.” I wink. “Maybe you can tell me about my parents and when they started dating. What happened in the woods?” I ask, gathering up my stuff.
“Ah. I think your father might rescind his blessing if I told you.”
“Hmm. Wild times in the woods, huh? Maybe nature-loving is in my blood.”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but now I’m even more excited to go on a picnic with you.”
Images of us teasing and touching while we kiss under a blue sky fill my mind. I see us sprawled together on a sun-warmed blanket, his hand on my breast, his name moaned from my lips.
“Go to work,” Douglas surprises me with his sudden sharp growl.
I give him a look that might register as hurt, or maybe just stunned.
“Go now,” he insists in a softer tone, “because if you stay here for another minute, I’ll want to take you on that picnic right now.”
Another kiss, a long lingering one that ends with me backing out the door with clenched thighs, trying not to look at the bulge under Douglas’ kilt.
As I drive away, he waves from the doorway, a sexy portrait of muscles, mussed hair, and that slightly askew kilt...
Mm. Forget packing a picnic lunch. That man is good enough to eat...