Chapter 14
Georgia was applying her lip gloss when she heard it. A fervent and impatient knock at her door.
“I’m not ready,” she called out.
Another rap.
She peeked out the door and her jaw fell to her knees. She knew it was Jake, but she wasn’t prepared for Jake in a black Henley that bunched at his biceps, dark jeans, and a ball cap pulled backward.
He stood in the hallway, hands on hips, staring at her with amusement. “You said that twenty minutes ago. The Georgia I knew didn’t need more than ten minutes to get all gussied up. You aren’t thinking of welching on our bet, are you?”
“Never!” she lied. She’d spent the last twenty minutes thinking up reasonable excuses. She’d settled on the bubonic plague, Venus was in retrograde, and a stray dog ate her boots.
Now that she was faced with the man, her excuses didn’t seem so believable.
“Good, then let’s go.”
She lifted her hands out to her sides and spun. “I’m still in leggings and a sweatshirt.”
“Even better. Where we’re going is cold.”
That surprised her. The Jake she’d read about in the tabloids dated models and went to places that served caviar and champagne with little floating raspberries.
Which she’d always found funny since he was a burger and beer kind of guy.
Or at least he had been. He’d also hated the press.
Said it was a distraction from what mattered—his racing.
Right. He avoided distractions. Which was exactly what he’d called her a decade ago. A distraction. One that could derail his career. Something she needed to remember while they were sharing a meal and inside jokes.
Jake had this sweet and charismatic way about him that pulled people in the way gravity pulls at stars.
He was generous—with his time and emotions.
Did she mention charming? There was this expression of his, a small smile and serious eyes, that made her feel seen and validated with just one glance.
And when his attention was directed solely at her, she felt like she was the most important thing in his world.
Sadly, it was all a ruse. The only thing he cherished was his career. Which was why he was one of the top racers in the world.
“What is this dinner really about?” she asked.
“Like I said, now that we’re working together, it only makes sense to clear the air and get to know each other for the people we are now.”
“Is that really so important? I’ve worked with people who I didn’t have a relationship with before and it’s never been a problem.”
“Not ones who’ve seen your O face.”
“Is that what this is really about?” She crossed her arms over her chest like armor. “If so, we might as well call it a night.”
“That was meant to be funny. Break the awkwardness.”
“Well, it did the opposite.”
“I can see that now.” He stepped closer.
“I have spent a decade needing closure and the universe has given us the perfect opportunity, if only for a week. When we bump into each other because of Jane and Henry, wouldn’t it be nice to not avoid each other?
Or walk around with this big question mark lingering over us? ”
When he put it that way, how could she say no? Jane meant a lot to her. Maybe they should figure things out now, before their issues started to affect their mutual friend group.
“That’s a good idea.”
“Are you admitting that I am right?”
“I’d never admit that, because it would prove I was wrong.”
He smiled at her. “Oh, I know. Now, let’s get a move on. We have to leave before your carriage turns into a pumpkin.”
Jake didn’t care that she was taking her sweet-ass time as they walked toward his truck.
It gave him the time he needed to appreciate the way her hips swung.
The snug fit of her leggings that cupped her backside to perfection.
Then there were those boots again. The pink ones with the fur around the top that made her look like a snow bunny.
He loved snow bunnies. Especially ones who weren’t afraid to go toe to toe with him. Few people in his world did. Besides his family and friends, he was surrounded by yes people, and it was refreshing to have someone who told him how it was.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, opening the truck’s passenger door. Its rusty squeak matched the miles this car had taken him. Not to mention the memories.
He held out his hand to help her in the car.
She ignored it and he couldn’t help but laugh as she struggled to get into her seat.
His truck was a 1964 Ford pickup. Cherry red, engine upgraded, interior original.
It had one of those bench seats which were engineered for a man to put his hand on his lady’s thigh.
Only she wasn’t his lady. Something he reminded himself as he climbed into the driver’s seat and caught a whiff of vanilla.
One sniff, and his dick manned up—begging to cross the finish line.
This was going to be harder than he originally thought.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise. But I can tell you that the views are spectacular and the meal comes with the best cocoa this side of the Mason-Dixon line.”
He started the car and drove through town until they hit a windy and steep dirt road. He let off the clutch and showed her what his truck could really do.
She was grasping the oh-shit handle for dear life, but she was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.
When they reached the top of the bluff, he stretched his arm out in her direction.
“Don’t even think about it. Just because you took me to make-out point doesn’t mean we’re going to make out,” she said primly.
He reached behind her and came up with a winter coat, hat, and gloves. “Presumptuous much? And who said I bring girls here to make out.”
“Come on. You’ve never brought a girl here?”
“Nope,” he said honestly. “This is where I used to come with my grandparents after a long day chopping down trees. Meemaw would pack up dinner and we’d sit on the tailgate and share a meal, then talk about the highs and lows of our day.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Not as sweet as this pecan pie and hot cocoa. Why don’t we get out there before it gets cold.”
He stepped out of the truck and raced to her side to open her door. But she beat him. Independent little thing. Although when they’d been dating, she used to let him be his chivalrous self. That ship had clearly sailed.
He released the tailgate and laid out a flannel blanket. She hopped up and he put another blanket over her lap.
He pulled a picnic basket from behind her and laid out the spread.
“Now for dinner. We have fried chicken, corn bread, baked beans, and sweet peas.”
“It looks delicious.” She breathed in the night’s air, causing her breasts to rise and fall. It took everything he had to look away. “Did Joy make all of this?”
He shot her an offended look. “No, darlin’, I made this all for you.”
“I forgot you can cook.”
“It seems you’ve forgotten a lot about me.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. He saw the sadness in her eyes—a sadness that matched the one in his chest. The same sadness he’d been trying to get rid of for nearly a decade. Without much success.
“What was the low point of the day?” he asked, handing her a piece of chicken.
“Losing the bet.”
A laugh erupted from his belly. “Some things never change.”
“I am a sportsman-like loser.”
“You are the worst loser in the world. Admit it, it’s killing you.”
She gave him the side-eye. “Fine. Yes. I hate to lose. Especially to a bragger.”
“I never bragged.”
“So revving your engine to be sure I saw you in the car wasn’t bragging?”
“Okay, maybe it was. But man, it felt good.”
“Because you get to loft it over me?”
He met her gaze, steady and unflinching. “Because it led to this moment. Which is the high of my day.”
He could see her visibly swallow. “What was the low point?”
“That it took a bet for us to get here.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “My high was watching the ad come together. It is exactly what I imagined. So thank you for that.”
He tugged on the ball on top of her knitted hat. “My pleasure.”
They sat in comfortable silence, sharing a meal. The landscape, the twinkle lights flickering in the town below, and the stars sparkling in the sky above all made the air between them intimate as hell.
She licked her fingers and laid back on the bed of the truck, her hands resting on her belly. “So good. But I’m stuffed.”
“I hope you left room for cocoa.” He pulled out two mugs and a thermos.
“There is always room for cocoa.”
Handing her a cup, he poured his own and then tapped his rim against hers. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings.” She took a sip and moaned like she was having a goddamned orgasm. Her eyes opened and locked on his. “Cinnamon. I love cinnamon.”
“I remember.” His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he wondered if she’d let him lick that cinnamon off her lips.
Looking a little like a deer in the headlights, she wore an uncertain smile, and for some reason that simple reaction made his heart roll over and show its soft underbelly. He sucked in a breath of cold air, clearing his head. They were here for a reason and sadly, kissing wasn’t one of them.
“Why did you ghost me, Georgia? What did I do that was so bad that I deserved that? One minute I was holding you naked in my arms, and the next you were gone.”
“I got a call from my mom that Connor was taken to the hospital.”
Empathy rose to his throat, choking him. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have gone with you.”
“I did, but you were prepping for the race that day. Plus, a trip to the hospital was a weekly occurrence in my house. I knew I could handle it.” Her eyes went glassy.
“But I couldn’t. He passed on the ride to the hospital.
They got his heart beating twice. The third time my mom said not to continue life-saving procedures.
Can you believe that? She just gave up on him. ”
“I am so sorry.” He pulled her into his chest.
“I never got to say goodbye. Or tell him how much I loved him.”