Chapter 11
Joy was teaching Georgia how to make pumpkin pie for dessert.
She was pretty sure she’d never laughed this much while baking in her life.
Jake had flour on his cheek, his smile was pure mischief, and the way he leaned in to whisper some smart remark about Grandma’s “secret pie spice” had her heart doing ridiculous gymnastics.
She laughed, and before she knew what she was doing, she wiped a smear of flour from Jake’s cheek with her fingertip.
“You know,” she teased, “if you keep doing that, I might start charging you for all this cleaning up.”
Jake leaned closer, the heat from his body brushing hers. “Oh, I like paying in smiles,” he murmured, “and maybe a kiss for good measure.”
Her stomach flipped. Every brush of his hand as they kneaded dough together sent sparks she couldn’t ignore. She tried to focus on the pie, but it was hopeless.
“Kissing isn’t on the table,” she said. “Ever.”
“Until it is,” he said with so much confidence she nearly believed it. Then she reminded herself that anything other than drive-by friends was dangerous.
“So what?” she asked with a bite to her words. “We go there, it doesn’t work out and then our relationship is even more strained, and we’ll have to divvy up who gets which friend?”
“Or it leads someplace else.”
“Someplace I’ve been and never want to go back to.”
“Different people now, remember?”
Oh, she remembered. That’s what was making it so hard not to give in.
He reached out to cup her cheek and she leaned into it. Their bodies were nearly touching when the front door opened with a bang that rattled the cabinets.
“I’m home,” a female voice called out.
Georgia froze, flour-dusted whisk in hand. Rachel stormed in like a one-woman hurricane, ponytail bouncing, tote bag swinging like a weapon. Her eyes darted between Jake and Georgia, and the air thickened instantly.
“Well, bust my feathers,” Joy said, completely oblivious to the heated undertone. “Look what the cat dragged in. My favorite grandchild.”
“Hey! I thought I was your favorite,” Jake said with faux hurt in his voice.
“You’re my favorite grandson.” Joy snatched Rachel into a hug and rocked back and forth. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s Christmas. I can’t imagine spending it anywhere else.”
“What about Mom and Dad?” Jake asked.
Rachel flicked her sleek blond hair over her shoulder like a Kardashian. “They’ll get over it.”
“What about Tom? I thought he was set on a European Christmas.”
“Tom is in France with his French mistress.”
“I knew he was a prick,” Jake said.
“Really? You’re going to do the whole ‘I told you so,’ right now when my heart is shattered?” Rachel’s blue eyes sparkled with humor as she said it, making Georgia wonder just what kind of relationships Rachel had to be amused over a breakup.
“You heart isn’t shattered,” Joy said. “It’s your ego that’s bruised. You never really liked that boy. He was just convenient.”
“Fine. But he was a fun convenience who was dynamite in bed.”
“Can we not?” Jake said, covering his ears.
Rachel ignored this. “But lately he’s been more of an inconvenience and the sex has been so-so.”
“Again. Earmuffs,” Jake said, and Georgia was pretty sure he gagged.
Rachel’s eyes went to Georgia, and they narrowed in the most unwelcoming look in the history of the world. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Rachel. You must be Georgia.”
Okay, so that’s how she wanted to play it. Like she hadn’t been the one to tell Georgia that she was ruining Jake’s life.
She considered voicing all of that but didn’t want to ruin the lovely family reunion, so she took the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said, and then to Jake, “You told me that she was coming, I just didn’t realize she was staying here.”
“Where else would she stay?” Jake asked, a little challenge underscoring his words.
“A hotel. I didn’t imagine it would be my room.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize I was in your room,” Georgia said and suddenly she felt like an outsider—exactly the way Rachel meant for her to feel. The fun of the afternoon, the laughter and baking, no longer felt special. “I can pack and find a hotel.”
“Nonsense,” Joy said. “You are our guest, and you will stay right where you are. Rachel can take the guest-room. Isn’t that right, Rachel Anne?”
“Yes, Meemaw.” Then to Georgia, “Sorry about that. It’s just been so long since I’ve been home. Forgive me and my bad manners.”
Rachel sounded genuinely sorry, so Georgia said, “No biggie. And if you want to swap rooms, I am totally fine with it.”
“Nonsense.”
Dinner had ended on a weird note. Rachel had been less than welcoming to Georgia and it wasn’t acceptable. So, while Georgia helped Joy do the dishes, he took the time to talk to his sister while getting her luggage.
“Why are you really here?” Jake asked when they reached the car.
“I’m here because I didn’t want to be on the same continent as Tom.”
“So you’re not here to spy on me and Georgia?”
“Maybe a little. But I’m also here to make sure you don’t agree to any other ludicrous terms without my approval.”
“She removed the exclusivity clause. So, what’s the problem?”
“She didn’t remove it,” Rachel snapped. “She shortened it to six months.”
“Which is understandable. What’s the point of having a face for the cause if that face is all over another foundation’s website and socials?”
“You had previous agreements.”
“Which I didn’t cancel. I just postponed and the foundation understood the situation and were happy to oblige. You’re the only one with the problem,” Jake said.
Rachel let out a breath and all the bluster she’d been storing up. “I just worry. As your manager and, more importantly, your sister. That’s my job.”
Jake slung an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to worry. I have it all under control,” he lied.
He didn’t have jack shit under control. This morning was proof that the longer he was around Georgia the further away their past seemed to move.
“So have you started on the barn?” she asked.
“I have a to-do list.”
“Liar. I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in it to see what’s left. By now all your hard work will probably need to be redone.”
“I just don’t see why I can’t hire someone to finish it.”
“Because money doesn’t create memories.”
“Now you sound like Grandma.”
“Take that back. And if it helps your cause, I’ll hold your hand while you take a gander.”
“Take a gander? Who are you, Dolly Parton? I thought it was bad for business to talk southern.”
“It’s called speaking in a southern accent, and I went through years of lessons to get rid of it because Europeans assume y’all makes me an idiot. But one day in Pine Village and the redneck is back.”
“I like your idiot side. It makes you more approachable.”
“Approach this.” Rachel flipped him the bird.