Chapter Sixteen
The storm rolls in around ten, wild and angry. Weather like this isn’t uncommon in South Carolina, but there’s something about tonight that makes it impossible to sleep. It’s the heavy rain pounding against the roof. It’s wondering what went through Vanderman’s head when he watched me nearly have to give my wife mouth-to-mouth because she got forced into surfing. It’s reliving that moment when Georgie wiped out and got caught in a washing machine, tossed about in the waves until I could finally reach her.
I know it was a matter of chance that her crash was that bad, but the whole thing terrified me. I could have lost her today, and in that fleeting moment when I thought maybe I had, after I dragged her to shore and waited for her to breathe, I came to a stark realization:
I can’t let Georgie leave again.
That fiercely independent woman has always made me want to be more, do more, say more because she is unafraid of giving herself the life she wants. She’s the reason I bought the surf shop instead of being content to simply work there. She’s the reason I got a business degree in the hopes of expanding the shop or maybe even investing in something that’s open year-round. I’ve been trying to keep up with her since the day I met her, and being in her orbit has only ever made my life better. Who cares if I’m always following her instead of the other way around?
If I have to follow her to the other side of the world, I’ll do it.
Thunder rumbles across the sky, and I roll over to my other side, wondering how the pool house is holding up in the rain. I didn’t see any signs of water damage, so the roof should be good, but it’s also been a while since we had rain this heavy.
“If there’s a problem, she’ll come inside,” I tell myself and roll over again, trying to get comfortable. I’m exhausted after pulling Georgie out of the water, and I really need to get some sleep.
After another hour of tossing and turning, I decide I should go out and double check that she’s sound asleep. I don’t think she got a concussion, but she’s going to need some good rest after a wipe out like that. Plus, Georgie is stubborn enough that she might not come to me if something is going wrong, so I should make sure she’s fine.
I curse when I get to the back door and see the light on in the pool house. It’s nearly midnight, and that light wasn’t on when the storm first broke.
Rushing across the yard, I flinch against the sharp raindrops pelting me and then knock on Georgie’s door, keeping the sound light in case for some reason she’s fallen asleep with the light on. When she doesn’t answer, I nudge the door open and poke my head inside.
I swear again at the sight of Georgie curled up in a ball on the far corner of the bed while water steadily drips into a bowl in the middle of the mattress.
“Georgie!”
She grimaces and peeks one eye open. “Royal?”
That ceiling is going to need patching, but not tonight. “Why didn’t you come to the house?”
She shrugs one shoulder and curls up even tighter. “You don’t want—”
“I don’t want you to be miserable. Come inside.”
I’m not actually going to give her a choice in the matter, but I hold my hand out to her and hope she grabs it so I don’t have to pick her up and carry her to the house against her will. Thankfully, she accepts my offered fingers and slowly clambers to her feet. She’s a little unsteady, and I’m pretty sure she’s shivering, but she manages to climb off the bed and into my arms.
I hold her as tightly as I dare, worried that I might hurt her or scare her off if I don’t tread lightly. “I’m sorry,” I say into her hair.
She tucks herself into my hold, her arms folded up between us. “You can do a lot of things, Royal Kingston,” she says, “but I’m pretty sure you can’t control the weather.”
“I’m sorry for what happened on the water today.”
“I’m not. But even if I am, I’m blaming Cecily. “
I chuckle. “I thought you were a steamroller, but she might be worse.”
“She’s so much worse,” Georgie agrees. “I, at least, don’t force other people along with me. I’m perfectly happy to go forward on my own.”
I hope that isn’t true. Surely life is better with someone else along for the ride, right? I’m too scared to ask. The last time I asked to be a part of her future, she ran away. I won’t make that same mistake twice.
“Ready to go inside?” I ask instead. “I guarantee it’ll be warmer and drier.”
She nods against my chest, and together we dash through the rain to the house. Georgie immediately moves toward the front room and the couch, but I grab her hand to stop her.
“I’m not letting you sleep on that monstrosity,” I say when she turns a questioning look toward me.
Biting her lip, she looks toward my bedroom and sends a jolt of electricity through me. “I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”
“I know.”
Color rises up her face, matching the heat building inside me. “King…”
I know exactly where her thoughts are going—mine are already there—but I shake my head. She nearly drowned today, and I’m still grappling with the ramifications of my ever-growing feelings for her. Neither of us is ready for something we can’t take back. Right now, our marriage is only temporary. Until that changes…
“We’re both adults,” I tell her. “We can share a bed without it getting…” Weird is probably the wrong word, and heated is too close to the truth.
A smile ticks up Georgie’s lips. “Intimate?” she suggests.
I growl. “That is so much worse than what I came up with.”
She takes a step closer, then another, and I can’t help but track her movement with the concentration of a stalking lion. “You should probably know that I have a tendency to sleepwalk.”
I force my gaze to remain fixed on her face, though it isn’t helping that she’s in those short shorts again. Why couldn’t she have worn one of those oversized nightgowns that old ladies wear? Then again, Georgie would probably be just as alluring no matter what she wears.
I clear my throat, once again forcing my traitorous eyes up to her face. “I didn’t know that about you.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve never slept with me before.”
I take a step back to keep a certain level of space between us. “Are you likely to sleepwalk tonight?” I ask. Maybe bunking on the couch will be a better idea than sharing the bed with her, at least until we can have a thorough conversation about this marriage of ours and where it’s going. I don’t want to discover the kinds of things she might do in semi-consciousness. Not with the way she’s looking at me right now.
Those expressive eyes of hers are setting a fire in my belly that’s not going to be extinguished anytime soon.
Georgie shrugs, stepping forward until my back hits the wall, and then she grins. I desperately want her to touch me, but she doesn’t. I feel her eyes, though. They trace my face and work their way down. “It’s impossible to know if I’ll sleepwalk or not. The last time, I ended up outside and was nearly eaten by a llama.” A shiver runs through her, and I don’t think it’s because of Prince Harry.
Sighing, I pull her into my arms again and close my eyes as I memorize how it feels to hold her. It could be the only time I get the chance; I can’t let myself hope too fully that we can make this work. We tried once, and she ran away.
The difference this time is I fully plan to follow her if she does that again. No cowardice this time around.
“We’ll have to risk it,” I tell her. “I need to know you’re safe and warm tonight.” Every night. For the rest of our lives. Stay.
Once I get her settled in my bed with all the blankets she could possibly need, I stretch out beside her and let my breath out in a steady stream, forcing myself to relax. I’m probably not going to get any sleep tonight, knowing she’s there breathing next to me, but I don’t care. As long as she’s safe.
“Royal?”
I smile at the sound of my name. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for rescuing me today.”
A replay of her wipeout flashes through my mind again, and I search for her fingers so I can make sure she’s really here. Really safe. Her hand is cool against mine, and I hold it tight, trying to warm her fingers. “I’m sorry I had to. I shouldn’t have let you—”
“I’m glad I did. I’ve always wondered what it’s like out on the water with you. You…” She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You were born for the ocean. You looked so happy out there.”
“I was happy,” I admit. “Up until I thought you might drown.”
“How about we agree that I’m better on dry ground?”
“Happily.” Especially if she stays within sight. It’s too dark to see her now, but I look at her anyway, trying to imagine the way her curls spill onto the pillow. I think she usually pulls her hair up at night, but tonight she left it down. Her curls were damp and frizzy from the rain, but she is beautiful. I don’t have to see her to know that.
As a knot forms in my stomach, I change the topic of conversation to one that is far more dangerous than Georgie’s understandable fear of the ocean. “How long do you think it will take to do the renovations on the bakery?”
She shifts, and I’m pretty sure she rolls over to face me. As long as she keeps holding my hand, I’ll be happy. “It depends on how many of them I have Beck do.”
“All of them.” I probably say that too quickly, but I mean it. “You should make the bakery yours, Georgie.”
I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure she inches closer. “But what about you? What about Bill’s legacy? I don’t want to take him from you by changing everything you have left of him.”
Lifting her hand up between us, I press my lips to her fingers. One by one. “Uncle Bill’s legacy is you, Georgie. He always wanted you to have the bakery, and he wouldn’t have expected you to be exactly like him. I know you’ll honor him, no matter how you change things.”
Georgie’s other hand finds my cheek, scraping against the scruff and leaving a trail of warmth behind. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed her. The last two months have been the loneliest of my life, but with Georgie next to me, I don’t feel like I’ll ever be on my own again. I can’t help but cling to that hope as tightly as I cling to her hand.
“I’m pretty sure his legacy is you, Royal,” she says into the darkness. “He was so proud of you.”
She can’t know that, but her words settle warm and solid inside me anyway.
“I miss him,” I admit. It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud, and they come out of me raw and rough. “It shouldn’t have been harder to lose him than it was my parents, but it feels so much worse.” And what kind of son does that make me, missing him more than I miss my own father?
“Hey.” Georgie scoots closer, now pressing her whole palm to my cheek. “You were only eight when your dad died. And I know you were sad when you lost your mom. Some of your emails were heartbreaking, and I wanted so badly to be here with you.”
Maybe that’s the difference. When my mom died, I had Georgie to get me through it.
I shift forward until I can press my forehead to hers and breathe in her amazing scent, though it’s mixed with the smell of rain, the ocean, and something that oddly reminds me of Prince Harry.
“I’m glad you’re here with me now,” I tell her. “You always make me feel stronger than I am.”
That makes her laugh softly. “That’s just ridiculous. I probably make you feel like you can’t do anything because I’m too busy trying to do it myself.”
“No.” I touch a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I like following in your wake. You know what you want, and you don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t have it. It’s inspiring. Everyone should want to be like you.”
“Tell that to my ex. He hated following my lead.”
“He’s an idiot.” I press my lips to hers because I can’t help myself anymore. She tastes familiar, and it still feels like no time passed between our lives before and now. Her kiss is warm, exhilarating, invigorating. Everything I remember and so much better.
But Georgie responds more eagerly than I expect, and it takes everything in me to push her away.
“Oh, come on,” she complains, trying to fight her way back to my mouth.
I chuckle. “Today was a big day, and you need to sleep.”
“What if I want to—”
“Georgie.” I push my hand into her hair and groan. “I want to, believe me, but we should talk first. And not tonight.” I hope she doesn’t argue because my resolve is hanging by a thread. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known is in my bed with me, trying to get closer, and I’m telling her to go to sleep. That probably makes me the biggest idiot in the world.
Sighing, she tugs her hand free from mine and twists around to face the other direction, which feels kind of petty. But then she cuddles up close, pressing herself flush against my body. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Kingston,” she mutters, but there’s clear contentment in her voice as she settles into me.
I chuckle and wrap my arms around her, holding her close. I still might not sleep tonight, but I get to hold my wife as a storm rages around us, and that’s more than I could ever need.