Chapter Twenty-Three Douglas
H ours slip by like years.
I want to see Georgia again. I never want to stop seeing her. I want to wake up next to her and go to sleep beside her.
Even when I was newly wed, inundated with the allure of having a wife to go home to, innocent in the ways of love and marriage (and probably besotted with the idea that sex was now a habitual thing) I didn’t pine for Nicola the way I obsessively think about Georgia.
I tell myself it’s too fast and probably unhealthy.
Even focusing on work doesn’t help. For the second time in my life, I can’t keep my mind on my work. (The first time was after Nicola passed, but no one expected me to be in the office or keep up with reports then.)
I look at the papers Georgia left with me and read her notes. She doesn’t really need an accountant. Her bookkeeping is in enviable shape.
“God, she’s perfect.”
She’s beautiful, she’s witty, she’s kind, and she’s good at maths.
What she could use is a person to do all this sort of thing for her so she can take the five or ten hours a week it takes her to manage the finances and devote them to the expansion of the catering side of her business. There’s nothing I can really do to help her but convince her to let me take on the responsibility—and that sounds daunting.
That business is like her baby.
Well. I could raise a baby with her.
I swallow hard. It’s primal and probably not very modernized of me, but I’m absolutely sweating at the thought of Georgia being pregnant with my child, of having a family with me—in addition to the coffee shop.
THE SHOP IS BUSY, AND the time we share is brief. Georgia can’t keep running on nothing but caffeine and lust.
We talk in the evening, and I ask her if she’d like me to come over to her place for a wee while.
“My house is a mess.”
“I won’t look at it. I’ll look at you.”
“Diana had to go home right after you left at lunchtime. I ran the register, the tables, and the kitchen. I mean, Cindy was there helping, but it was hectic as f— it was hectic.”
“Darling, I don’t want to come over just to worm my way into your bed. I miss you, and I want to see you.”
“I want to shower, eat a sandwich, and sleep. But when I think of you, I can’t sleep.”
“Ah, well, I know something that tires you out,” I wheedle, excitement growing in my middle.
This isn’t like me. This isn’t the stern, stolid bloke that I’ve always been. Anytime I felt glimmers of these emotions in the past, I tamped them down, reminding myself that I had no right to be happy when Nicola was gone.
But Georgia and I are still here. And Nicola’s death shouldn’t be for nothing, you nit. It should have a purpose—the purpose of getting this into your thick skull.
Don’t make the same mistakes twice. Get your girl. Give her the love she ought to have.
I’m already pulling the satchel I use as my carry-on bag over my shoulder and fishing for the keys to my used (but new to me) Land Rover.
“Douglas... I’m all sweaty, and I wore the same clothes two days in a row.”
“You’ll have a shower. Or a bath. Can I run you a bath?”
Her voice is soft and disbelieving. “You’d do that for me?”
It’s my turn to pause and be incredulous. Does she not realize how long I’ve waited to have someone to love and tend to?
Does she not understand that every sighted man in the country would pay a million dollars to see her naked and covered in bubbles? I remember her in my shower, and I could hammer nails.
“Of course I would. And I’ll rub your back and your feet. All the places that hurt after a long day at work, I’ll tend to. That’s part of having a person in your life.”
Georgia sniffles, and my heart hates that sound. “Do you get tech neck?”
“Hm?”
“Sore neck and shoulders? Are you all stiff?”
Am I stiff, she says. I have to stop being a lewd little teenager and answer like an adult. “Always. Desks and computers weren’t built with Orcs in mind.”
“I’ll rub your neck. And back. And other places.”
I lock the door behind me. “What exactly is your address, love?”
“I’m not even home yet!”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Georgia tells me, and I dash to her place. I could walk to it easily, and I’ll probably end up doing that frequently.
Georgia sighs on the phone as I weave my way through our development. “I’ve been waiting for so long to have someone to come home to.”
“Well. I don’t think you have to wait much longer, pet.”
GEORGIA LOOKS ALL IN when she arrives and pushes open the door, leading me into her house. “It’s a mess.”
“I don’t mind.” I peer at her. She looks beautiful—but bedraggled. I blame myself. First night together, and I didn’t make much of a breakfast for her, didn’t make sure she got enough sleep... Woke her up early. Kept her up late.
This is why people need to go on a honeymoon.
I suddenly imagine Georgia wearing a bikini bottom and not a stitch else.
I let out a noise that a starving tiger might make.
Georgia cocks her head at me. “Indigestion?”
“No. Sorry.”
“You’re staring at me.”
“Because you’re beautiful. Also, did you drink enough water today?”
She bursts out laughing. “Only what my body can refine from black coffee.”
“All right, young lady.” I wag a playful finger at her. “Into the kitchen with you. Drink a pint of water and nothing less, and then I want you upstairs and in that tub.”
“Ooh. Someone’s bossy.” Georgia winds her arms around my neck and stares up at me with dark-circled eyes. “It’s okay as long as you don’t do it too often.”
“Are you bossing me about bossing you?” I kiss her lips softly and swiftly. If I let myself linger, I’ll want to do much more than kiss her.
“Mmhmm. But I think you’ll like it. I have plenty of fun ideas. You know, things like —get that kilt off and put your cock in my—” Georgia stops, backing up with a quick, sharp breath. “Sorry. I’m tired and dehydrated. Not thinking. I know we aren’t— I meant... later. When we’re ready.”
“Hey, hey, wait now.” I tug her wrist a bit so she ends up in my arms again. “I like being ordered about in that manner. All in fun, right, love?” I kiss her head. “And all in good time.” I’m achingly hard at the thought of doing exactly what she says. I wonder where she was going to ask me to go? I can guess, based on how she blushed and stopped herself. I’ve been in her mouth, and it’s heaven.
I’ve felt that soft, clenching puss around my fingers, too, and I can’t wait until I’m buried inside her, knot and all.
She might need a hot bath, but I need a cold shower.
I RUN A TUB IN THE pink and white bathroom with its navy blue accents. It’s a pretty space, with touches of Georgia everywhere. It smells like her soap, her shampoo, her lotion, all those things that work in harmony to give her that sweet summer fruit smell that makes my mouth water. I find bubble bath under the cabinets, and I get the water running and fluffy towels out. I remember that trick about putting an extra towel along the back of the tub, rolled up like a headrest.
Georgia comes in and blinks at me as I finish lighting the candles I found. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Doesn’t need to be.” I smile and offer to help her out of the robe she’s wearing. “Want me to leave, or can I stay and keep you company?”
“Well, someone mentioned rubbing my back, and it’s hard to do that from out there. Also, I’m pretty sure the tub is big enough for two. You sit down that way, and I’ll sit at this end.”
I protest. “I don’t think it’s...” The tub behind me is now somehow twice the size and the still-gushing faucet is about three feet higher. “How did you do that so fast?”
“Spatial magic, the hostess’ best friend.” Georgia shimmies free of the dark scarlet robe on her shoulders and slides into the water with a moan that sends heat rushing through me.
In seconds, I join her, feeling a bit guilty. “I wanted to pamper and care for you. To show you that I won’t neglect you or ignore you when things are wrong,” I whisper. I’m not sure if I ought to tell her, but I also think not telling her would be starting us off on the same path Nicola and I took.
Georgia’s eyes rove over my body with the same hungry light that mine hold. Not to be distracted from my goal, I immediately budge up and grab hold of her foot, massaging it between my wet, soapy hands.
“Ohhh. Oh, god, this is pampering me, okay?” Georgia’s moans of bliss make my cock twitch and my knot starts to swell.
I run covetous hands up her calves, over her knees, working the muscles with greedy fingers. Why don’t men want to do this sort of thing for their mates? You get to touch her all over.
“Ohhhh. Ohhh, ohh, my God, yes.” Georgia sinks down, eyes closed and chin resting in the water.
Plus, she makes noises like that.
I switch to the other foot.
“Tell me about your day?” Georgia asks between moans. I feel her hand splashing near my ankle. Fingers find my foot and she kneads the ball of it with her slender, strong fingers, then presses in a straight line down to my heel.
All my muscles turn into overcooked pasta. “Ohh, that’s amazing. Bloody marvelous.”
Her fingers twirl on each toe. “I heard that certain parts of the foot control the libido.” As if she’s testing her theory, her delicately arched foot slides across my lap and against my erection. “Must be right.”
“No, silly thing. That happened the second I thought about you. Speaking of my day—that’s how it was. I did my job and thought about you. I think if you let me take over the accounting end completely, you could devote yourself to the catering and delivery end.”
“But that's such a big commitment of your time.”
“I’m happy to do it.”
“It... It would really involve you in the day-to-day management of the coffee shop. Well, not managing it, but getting bills and statements from suppliers and things like that. Payroll for the hours.” Georgia studies her hands in the water. “Big commitment.”
I love that this tub is suddenly wide enough for two. I slide myself beside Georgia, causing a small tidal wave of water over the side as she shrieks and laughs. Without warning, I heft her slippery body up and plop her down in my lap. For a moment, I can only register the feel of the soft roundness of her bottom on my thighs, the feel of her wetness—so much slicker than soapy water, as it briefly caresses my cock. “I want to prove that I can handle that level of commitment. You didn’t mind me helping out, you asked me to.”
“When I thought it was just helping, not you taking over.” She tilts her head back to me, and I lightly nibble her throat. “I’m not good at letting someone take over completely. If I do it right, I’m in control. If I let go of it completely...”
“Well, precious.” My nibbles turn harder. I can’t resist the way she tastes, the way she squirms. I rub her lower back in firm circles with my thumbs. Georgia scoots forward to get more of the contact, and my cock nestles between her cheeks, making us both moan.
I try again. “You won’t be letting go completely. This business is your baby, and I respect that. You can check every step, every figure. I’ll do the grunt work, you sign off on it. I’ve seen your work. If I make a mistake, you’ll catch it in an instant.”
Georgia gives herself over to my massage and my persuasive words. “Why would you want more work?” she laughs softly between her low, satisfied groans as I undo the stiff knots in her back.
“Because I want to be in your life. I want to show you how I love you in practical ways.” For a moment, my hands still. I remember the little practical things I tried to do for Nicola. Made sure her Wellies were dry when she came back in from a long trek in the woods. Put a drop of whiskey in her tea thermos before she went out fishing. Always had her side of the bed turned down when she came into the room. So many little things I tried to do, and I don’t know if they went unnoticed or just unmentioned. Or maybe they were just unwanted. Maybe they were the wrong things, and I should have done something bigger and better.
“Maybe those are the wrong ways,” I murmur, more to myself than to Georgia, my hands begin their slow circling again, working from hips to neck and back.
“I love those ways. And it’s... It’s really good timing. White Pines is working on an all-inclusive package for weddings and events at the estate. Stoneware and favors from Genesis, the gargoyle, beautiful handmade bridal party necklaces and rings made by Milo, the minotaur, music performed by locals, cakes by Claire—and catering by us. There are a lot of non-residents planning to get married there this summer, and it would be amazing to focus on that and maybe even getting the rehearsal dinners, too. Summer is also a hard month for the residents who can’t go out in the sun, what with the daylight being so long. The delivery service would be a godsend to them—and a nice revenue stream for us. But, of course, more work, too.”
The sound of her voice is relaxed but excited. This makes her happy. I kiss her shoulders and stop my massage to hug her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“What’s that for?”
“I love to see you so happy—to think that maybe something I do will make you happy. And I know I don’t talk much sometimes, but... I spent a lot of my life in silent spaces.” I rest my head to hers, eyes closed. I don’t want to think about the years alone, or the time with Nicola where conversations became shorter and more strained, before stopping completely. “Hearing your voice is a treat, love.”
“No one has ever said that before. Just ask Georgie.” She laughs to cover her blushes.
“Aye, well, he had a loving sister and parents, friends. A place where he could work in his kitchen but be near others. I spent time alone at home and worked from home, as well. Didn’t think I minded it until you came in. My sunshine.” She is. She makes the darkness inside me flee, melts the ice I thought had taken up residence in my veins.
Georgia swivels and puts her soapy breasts to my chest, her hands digging easily into my shoulders and neck. “I love you, Douglas Wickstaff. Thank you for coming into my life.”
I nuzzle her cheek with mine, tusks indenting a dimpled cheek. “Thank you.” For saving mine.