Logan slipped from my grasp before I could even snatch hold of his arm again. He was across the lobby in quick strides and struck Harris in the nose.
Harris flew back into the hostess stand. He shook his head as though to clear it and then charged Logan, wrapping his arms around him and tackling him to the floor.
They went down with a crash on the floor, limbs flailing, fists connecting. The terrible sound of bone on bone filled the air. The hostess screamed.
I danced around them, trying to look for a way to separate the two of them, but they were a tangle. Logan landed more hits, but Harris wouldn’t give up. Somehow they managed to get on their feet again. Locked together, they rammed into a wall, rattling pictures depicting the Tuscan countryside. The hostess danced around them, screaming for them to stop.
I grabbed Harris’s shoulder. “Harris, stop it!”
He twisted halfway and gave me a push that sent me careening into the wall. I slipped down to the ground, a frame falling with me, shattering glass everywhere.
Logan shouted my name and rushed to my side, both hands gently closing on my arms as he lifted me to my feet.
“Georgia! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” My voice trembled past my lips, a warble on the air. My hands shook.
Logan frowned, his forehead knitting with concern. He didn’t see the sucker punch coming, but I screamed as Harris’s fist connected with his cheek.
Logan slammed into the wall and I forgot all about my fall and shaking limbs. I attacked, jumping on Harris like a monkey. I clawed his face, leaving bloody scratches. I didn’t stop there, raining my fists on any part of him I could reach. Face, shoulders, chest.
I was still cursing him when Logan peeled me off. Gasping, I looked around. The lobby was suddenly full. Waitstaff, gawking restaurant goers. And two uniformed Muskogee police officers, their steel-eyed gazes fixed on me.
Chapter 23
ARRESTED FOR THE SECOND time in less than two weeks. That had to be some kind of record. Of course, I wasn’t alone in that ignominious distinction. Logan was with me. We sat side by side, hands handcuffed behind us on a bench inside the county sheriff’s office, and shared a smile. He shook his head at me and leaned in to press a kiss on my lips, forgetting about his bottom busted lip. He hissed.
“Oh, baby.” I pressed a tiny butterfly kiss to his mouth.
He chuckled against my mouth. “Remind me to bring you to my next bar brawl, tiger.”
Harris made a sound of disgust and leaned back on his bench across from us, beating his head on the brick wall. He was handcuffed, too, but they made a point to put distance between us. I didn’t care if he was watching though. I didn’t care that I was arrested. I was happy.
Deputy Milo Henderson was my second cousin. He’d grown up with my mother, and besides seeing him around town all my life, I saw him every Easter at Aunt Charlene’s. He pushed through the swinging doors and I breathed a sigh of relief, ready to explain everything that had happened. And then my mother and father followed, entering the room behind him. Of course he had called them.
Logan must have heard my swift intake of breath. “Georgia?”
I sent him a reassuring glance and rose to my feet. “Mom—”
“Georgia!” She pushed past Milo. After sweeping me with her stare, presumably to assure herself that I was all right, she flicked her gaze back and forth between Logan and Harris. Her lip curled as she assessed Logan. He was sporting an angry split lip with one black eye. He’d never looked hotter. Or more dangerous.
My father turned to Milo, motioning to me. “Are the handcuffs necessary?
Milo stepped forward, uncuffing me first, then Logan, then turning to Harris. “I just got off the phone with the manager. I convinced him not to press charges against any of them.”
Harris stood, flexing his shoulders and angrily brushing his hands down his starched button-down. “Don’t come crawling back to me, Georgia. We’re through.”
“Harris, don’t be hasty.” Mom made a move toward him. “This was just a misunderstanding. I’m sure tomorrow you’ll feel—”
“Sweetheart.” Dad reached out and placed a hand on Mom’s shoulder. She swung a bewildered glance at him. “Enough,” he said, his voice firm even though his look was gentle.
Mom stared at Dad, her mouth working for speech. I could have hugged my father right then, so grateful that he had decided to shake off his usual apathy.
Harris brushed past Mom and walked out of the station without another word.
Mom stared after him for a moment, as though he were her last great hope for me. Turning, she found us all staring at her. She fixed a plastic-looking smile to her lips and patted her cousin’s arm. “Well. Thank you so much, Milo. We really appreciate it. I promise you won’t be seeing Georgia in here ever again. We’ll have a stern talk to her as soon as we get home. We’ll get her straightened out and on the right path again, I promise.” Mom laughed awkwardly. “You would have thought we’d have had this trouble with her in high school, not now.”
I bristled and rubbed me newly freed wrists, hating that she was talking about me like I was a delinquent fifteen-year-old.
She faced me again, sent Logan a dismissive look, and then, taking my elbow, tugged me forward. “Let’s get you home, Georgia.”
I dug in my heels. “Mom, this is Logan.”
Her eyes narrowed on me, refusing to glance his way and acknowledge him. She was never this rude, which only told me she didn’t think he was deserving of good manners. “I know who he is. He showed up at the house and spoke with your sister. She lied and told me he was a friend of Jeremy’s. I’ll be taking that up with her later.”
So that explained all the texts and calls from my sister. She had told Logan where to find me.
“Now let’s go home, Georgia.” Her clasp tightened on me, growing more determined.
I pulled my arm free and moved to Logan’s side. “I’m not going home with you, Mom.”
Her panicked gaze flitted from me to Logan. “W-what?”
“I’m going back to Dartford. I’m going to finish my degree there, and when it’s done I’m going to look for a job that best suits me . . . which I doubt will be in Muskogee.” I looked up at Logan and wrapped my arm around his waist. He in turn wrapped his arm around me. “And I’m going to be with my boyfriend.”
Logan stared down at me with such pride in his eyes. The pride I had always been looking for from my mother but never found. It was there, given so freely in his gaze.
“Georgia.” Mom had moved closer to whisper her words, clearly embarrassed that others were listening. “What are you doing?”
“I’m choosing my fate. I can’t live for you. I can’t live fighting every day to prove to you that I’m not my father.”
It was like I struck her. The blood left her face. Her chest lifted on a ragged breath. “You do this on your own.”
I nodded, smiling slightly. “I’m okay with that.”
She stared at me like I was a stranger in front of her. And I guess I was. I was new to myself, too. It was going to take her a while to learn to accept this Georgia, but she would. Eventually. I believed that. At the core of it all, she loved me. And yet, I wasn’t going to fall apart if she didn’t accept me. Because this new me was strong enough to be who I wanted to be regardless of what she did or didn’t do.
I faced Logan. “Let’s go. We have a long drive.”
Logan nodded, his hand sliding down to mine. Our fingers laced together, palms flushed. Together, we walked out of the station.
WE MADE IT THREE hundred miles before stopping at a hotel for the night. Once in the room, we made it three seconds before getting naked. He was inside me in less time than that. We made love, fierce and tender. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I came apart in his arms, his mouth fused with mine.
&
nbsp; “Hey, why are you crying?”
“Because I’ve never felt this free . . . and this happy. Or scared. I love you, Logan.”
He smoothed the tangle of hair back from my face and tucked me against him. “I love you, Pearls. I’ve never loved another girl before . . .” He sucked in a hoarse breath. “There’s only a handful of people in my life I can even claim to love at all. It is a little scary. You chose yourself—me—over your family today. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I know I won’t.” Even without Logan, it had to happen. I would have gone back to Dartford. He just helped me reach the decision that much sooner.
“Hey,” I said suddenly. “You know this is the first time we’ve had sex in an actual bed? We’re getting boring.”
His chest rumbled with laughter against me. “I’ve been arrested twice in the last month. I’m okay with boring for a little while. Something tells me with you it won’t last.”
I pouted at him and he kissed me again, drawing my bottom lip into his mouth. My fingers ran down his chest, over his quivering stomach and even lower. He was already hard. I lifted wide eyes to him. “Again?”
“Every night you’ve been gone I’ve thought of you. Of being with you again . . . inside you. I missed you.”
Smiling mischievously, I glanced around the hotel room. “This is kind of a nice room.” I smoothed my hand over the crisp sheets. “A nice bed.”
“Good.” He kissed me long and slow and deep. “Because I got us a late checkout.”
Epilogue
One year later . . .
Logan pressed a kiss on my neck as he came up behind me in front of the bathroom mirror as I was applying mascara. He was naked and wet from the shower. His hand drifted to my belted robe, nudging his erection against my backside.
“Hey.” I tsked, covering his hand with my own and stopping him from completely disrobing me right there. “None of that right now. We’re going to be late. I should have started getting ready sooner but someone emailed me this awesome new chapter . . .”
His gaze locked on mine through the mirror. “Did you like it?”
“Like is an understatement. I loved it. When do I get the next chapter?”
He grinned. “Oh, I don’t know.” He gripped my hips, better positioning himself against me. “Maybe you can bribe me for more—”
“You already make me barter for chapters,” I reminded, motioning vaguely in the direction of the living room, where my guitar sat near the futon. It no longer hid in my closet. It was a well-loved and well-played instrument. At Christmas, Logan had surprised me with guitar lessons. In addition to everything else on my plate, I now took lessons once a week. We teased that we had a bartering system going, but Logan liked to hear me play and I liked to read his stories. Win-win.
“I had something else in mind this time . . .”
I groaned, nerves sparking, everything in me responding to him. “Logan, we’re already not going to be on time.”
“Half an hour. Max,” he coaxed.
“It’s Pepper and Reece’s engagement party,” I reminded him as he brushed back the hair from my neck and nibbled along my throat, sending a delicious shiver through me.
“They won’t notice if we’re a little late.”
Turning, I gave in and kissed him. We’d been like this ever since he moved into the apartment above Mulvaney’s with me for the summer. Insatiable. There was something to be said for waking up together every day. Sleeping together every night. There was forever in his eyes, and it never got old.
As soon as I returned to Dartford last summer, I went to Dr. Chase and explained how I was suddenly without finances. He helped push my paperwork through the campus’s financial aid department. I’d missed all the deadlines for aid, but his influence went a long way, and I was able to continue my courses and pay for my textbooks in the fall.
Reece and Pepper let me remain in the loft, so that saved me from paying for the dorm. They refused any efforts I made to pay them. Dr. Chase hired me as his assistant throughout the year. I was learning a lot, making great connections, and earning some money. Enough to eat at least and cover the essentials. And there was Logan.
During the year, he lived in the dorm, which was covered by his scholarship, but spent weekends and a couple nights a week with me—when he didn’t have baseball practice or a game. Occasionally, he still worked at Mulvaney’s, catching a shift here and there. Over the holidays I worked downstairs, too, helping Cook in the kitchen.
I didn’t have money for pedicures anymore or extravagant shopping trips, but what I had was enough. It was more than enough. I was happy. I had Logan and my friends and a future I was excited about.
Mom and I had talked a few times. We were getting there. She was still struggling with the choices I was making, but she had stopped trying to bully me into her way of thinking. Mostly because it wasn’t going to change anything, and she knew that now. It wasn’t going to change me. She had agreed to let me keep my car and even covered the insurance. I’m pretty certain my father had a hand in this—he’d mailed me a check at Christmastime, which went a long way to cover my bills. I wasn’t too proud to accept the help.
On our last call, she had mentioned coming to see me. I told her that would be nice. I looked forward to her getting to know Logan. She had started to ask questions about him. His baseball career interested her. Knowing Mom, she was readjusting her fantasy for me, envisioning me being married to a Major League baseball player.
“Thirty minutes,” Logan repeated, his blue eyes beyond inviting as he unknotted my belt and slid the robe off my shoulders. The terry cloth pooled at my feet.
I shook my head and used my sternest voice on him. “Logan, this isn’t happening.”
He stopped and sighed. “All right.” Bending down, he picked up my robe and handed it to me.
I plucked it from his hands and tossed it across the bathroom. “Thirty minutes isn’t going to cut it.”
He laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off my feet, bringing our naked bodies flush with each other. He walked me out of the bathroom, my toes not so much as grazing the floor. I didn’t need to see to know he was carrying me toward our bed.
“So . . . forty-five minutes?” Grinning, he came down over me on the bed, his arms bracketed on either side of my head.
I cupped the side of his face, reveling in the love for me shining in his eyes. Reveling in touching him, having him, loving him. A pang punched me in the chest. Love was this. Exhilarating and lifesaving. I could never give it up and never place a time limit on it.
I kissed him, whispering against his lips, “We have all the time in the world.”
IT WAS MORE LIKE an hour later when we left the apartment and another thirty minutes before we walked into Reece and Pepper’s house. Happy shouts greeted us. We hugged the bride-and-groom-to-be and endured the friendly jibes for being late. Em eyed my still-damp hair with a knowing smirk. I blinked innocently.
Pepper and Emerson cornered me in the kitchen as I was getting a drink.
“Um. Did you miss the start time on the invitation?” Em teased, munching on a chip.
“Sorry,” I said unapologetically, searching for Logan and finding him standing across the living room with his brother and Shaw. My chest fluttered at the sight of him.
Pepper grinned. “There’s something about being in love. It suddenly makes you chronically late.”
Em sighed and stared at her boyfriend. “Tell me about it. I don’t think I’ve been on time to anything since that man walked into my life. Suddenly other things seem vastly more important than showing up on time.” From the glazed look in her eyes, I had a good idea of what she was talking about.
“It’s a small price to pay.” Pepper nodded in agreement. “But I don’t plan to be late to my wedding.”
“Yeah. We’ll
make sure of that.” Emerson held up her hand. “Bridesmaids’ oath.”
“Thanks, guys. I promise to do the same for you when it’s your turn.”
Our turn. My turn.
I didn’t expect it to happen anytime soon for me—not until Logan and I both finished school—but the idea of it felt natural. So right. We already spoke in terms of forever when we were together, and nothing about it felt forced or uncomfortable. We just knew. This was it. I’d found with Logan what my best friends had found.
As if sensing my stare—or maybe even my thoughts—Logan’s eyes found mine. He smiled a slow, devastating grin and mouthed the words across the distance: I love you.
Acknowledgments
I cannot adequately express how much I’ve loved writing The Ivy Chronicles. Yes. Me, the writer = total loss for words. I can only say thank you for reading Foreplay, Tease, and Wild. I’m going to miss Pepper, Emerson, and Georgia maybe more than any characters I’ve written to date. And who could forget their guys: Reece, Shaw, and Logan? These girls felt like my girlfriends and the guys my buds. I hope you felt the same way, too.
Believe it or not, when I sat down to plot Georgia’s book, I never planned on Logan being her romantic “match.” With so many readers clamoring for more of Logan, I was toying with the idea of giving him his own novella. I could imagine the perfect girl for him, too. Someone his complete opposite. Someone conservative, bound by the influence of her parents and afraid of letting go. Then it dawned on me that Georgia was that girl. She had been staring me in the face all along. The moment I realized that, the pages of Wild just flew. I can’t imagine a better way to wrap up the series than with these two finding their happily ever after together.
The Ivy Chronicles couldn’t have happened without the support of my agent, Maura Kye-Casella, and editor, May Chen. You both always trust in me and embrace my ideas. From the very beginning, y’all were fully on board and as excited as I was—which only added to my joy in the writing process. Thank you! Pamela Spengler-Jaffe, Caroline Perny, Molly Birckhead, Jessie Edwards, Chelsey Emmelhainz, and the entire Harper team, how lucky am I to have you all? You work so hard and I appreciate all your efforts.
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