by Jamie Magee
Maybe so, but she was still going to have her camera strapped around her, an instant wall she could put up.
When the doorbell rang, she felt weak in the knees. “Stand right here and close your eyes,” Memphis ordered.
“Do what?”
He turned her around so she was not facing the door. “No peeking.”
She could have killed him at that moment. What the hell was he up to?
Then she heard, “I will be damned, son. I thought you and her were pulling my chain. There’s even furniture in here.” Georgia jerked around, not believing the voice she had heard. Sawyer Wright was standing in her entry hall holding three twelve packs of drinks under one arm.
“Holy crap!” she said, running to hug him. They had talked by email every other day about work, but only a phone call here and there.
“He wanted to put a bow on me,” Sawyer said in his deep, gruff tone.
“I needed a housewarming gift,” Memphis admitted wryly. Memphis took the drinks from Sawyer, leaving them alone.
Sawyer stared for a moment. The proud glint in his eyes gave Georgia all the calm she could ask for. She hadn’t known him long, but he was the bridge between the Georgia she was and the one she became. It wasn’t until then that Georgia really gauged how much her life had changed, how much she had grown.
“Small town looks like it fits you, kid,” he said, looking around.
“I can’t believe you came all the way down here for a barbeque.”
“Buddy of mine has a venue about an hour from here he wants me to invest in, so I called it business and went with it when Memphis gave me a call.” He tilted his head. “Something is different about you.”
“Happiness?” she said, lifting one shoulder wryly.
“Oh, so you were not happy in my bar? I get it.”
She slapped his shoulder. “I was content, but I would never want my daughter to only be content.”
“Ah, advice that finally registered.”
Right then, Truman came in the front door, yelling, “Honey, I’m home.”
Sawyer swung around. “Oh, dear Lord just when I thought she was in the clear,” he said in a teasing tone.
Truman was taken aback a second, then his bright blue eyes grew wide. “Who dug you up?”
Sawyer reached for Truman’s dark hair and messed it up as if he were a toddler. “Me? Is that a gray hair I see? At least it’s not hanging in your eyes anymore. You still using fake IDs to get into bars, chasing your brother across the country?”
“Gray my ass,” Truman said, pulling his broad shoulders back and patting his gut. “Best shape of my life. In my prime, Gramps.”
“You think you are hot shit because you can do some sit-ups? One day, the beers will catch up to that gut,” he said, nodding to the twelve pack under Truman’s arm.
“This is for Georgia. I might nurse one later.”
Sawyer looked back at Georgia. “Tell me you are not with this lying fool, or you’re getting another speech.”
“I’m so honest, I’m dangerous, Gramps,” Truman said, trying to hold in a grin.
“Where’s your brother at?” Sawyer asked.
“Talk about old, he’s a married man now. Should be ‘round soon.”
“How do you guys know each other?” Georgia asked.
“This knucklehead used to sneak into my bar years back. Always trying to catch up with Wyatt.”
“I came for the music. Your bar was just there—your fault for booking my favorite bands.”
“Suppose it is, small world,” Sawyer quietly.
A few others came in behind Truman, but Memphis was back to help get everyone settled.
“Truman is definitely not Hunter,” Sawyer admitted when Georgia brought him a drink. Georgia didn’t want to linger on the topic of Hunter. She had confessed to Sawyer as well about what went down with him, now everyone was looking for the boy. He had legit fraud charges against him, and an outstanding bond.
“We’re not dating,” Georgia said with a laugh. “He’s in Memphis’s fire hall, a good friend.”
“He had no problem not denying that I thought you two were together.”
“I don’t think he caught it. If he did, I’m sure he would’ve.”
“Because?”
Georgia blushed. She hadn’t told him about Easton or Grace. She knew how overprotective he was. “Because I’m with someone else at the fire hall,” she said just before she walked away. She glanced back to see an amused grin strapped across his face, even dared to take a picture of it.
The guys from the hall, their families, cousins, aunts and uncles of hers, along with her grandmother were all invited. A few others were as well, such as Randal, the man who had sold her the house, and those she had met along the way when she went out with Cynthia. She was going to be there, too, along with Kate and her husband.
At this point, almost everyone had arrived. The food was grilling, and everyone was relaxed into their own conversations.
Easton arrived then, and Georgia saw him pulling Grace from the back seat of his truck.
Georgia assumed Grace hated car seats because every time Cynthia arrived with her Grace was squalling. Not today, though. Not at all. She was laughing and talking and pointing as Easton unfastened her and hoisted her up, stealing a kiss from her cheek before he did. He was nodding and repeating words or saying them correctly to her. Everything fascinated Grace. The number of cars at the house, the new flowers in the yard, the music; she was taking it all in.
Georgia was sitting with her grandmother on the front porch, listening to her and Randal go back and forth about some long lost past time when she found herself moving closer to them. She had told herself when they got there just to ease into it, to say hi to the both of them, stay busy, feel it out. Easton had calmed her that morning, but saying something and doing something, or even meaning something were different things.
Easton looked up when he felt her. A smile beamed across his face as he took in how the sun was falling over her. It’d only been six hours since he held her last, but it felt like a lifetime. With Grace clutched to his side, he closed the distance between them, then reached to pull her into a sweet kiss.
He felt his daughter’s hands on his face, her squealing the words ‘mada, mada, mada’ over and over. He smiled with his lips still against Georgia’s but pulled away knowing there were eyes on them and that Georgia was not one for attention.
When Easton took Georgia’s hand to lead her in with Grace braced against his other side, Georgia caught the look in her grandmother’s eyes, her leaning into Randal to whisper something to him like she was some master weaver of fate and knew she was.
It took Georgia a while to relax with both Easton and Grace there. She really had never seen him with her, how they interacted, so at first the distance was so she could take it in. They were so in sync, had their own little world they lived in. Easton wasn’t a complete pushover with Grace. She minded him the best, even went to do a few things but hesitated to see if he was watching, which he always was.
Grace was stronger on her feet now and made her way to Georgia as soon as she figured out that the camera was aimed at her. When Georgia picked her up like she always did, blew kisses on her neck and tickled her side, everyone there stole a glance, passed secret smiles amongst one another, then almost laughed when they saw the look of heaven on Easton’s face.
One of Cynthia’s friends was lingering near Georgia, trying her best to get a smile out of Grace, but she kept hiding her face in Georgia’s hair. “Cynthia was worried sick Easton would be alone for the rest of his life,” said the older woman with a messy bun and locks of curls falling around her round face. She laughed. “Said there was no way on Earth Grace would let him near a woman. We just couldn’t figure out why Grace is not fond of women. I, of course, thought it was because her daddy spoiled her, or you know, because of her mother, because babies can sense things like that, they really can, but I don’t know, sweetie,” she s
aid, putting her hand on Grace’s back. “Maybe you just wanted to do the choosing. Handpicked mamas are the best.”
Cynthia was only a step away, had seen Georgia flush, almost turn green and went to save her.
“Cheryl Davis, put your wedding planning book away, or at least mosey on over to Gregg and Linda. That boy is about a year late on popping the question.” The woman waved her hand and chuckled. “When you know, you know, and when you don’t, you won’t.” And with that, she walked over to the very couple Cynthia sent her to.
Cynthia shook her head. “She’s always looking to book her next job. Surprised she doesn’t have a bow and arrow,” she joked, easing Georgia, whose color was coming back now.
“This is a new development, and my math is not adding up,” Georgia heard Sawyer say and looked up to see him just behind her. She introduced him to Grace and then to Cynthia.
Easton came over to her right about then, handing Georgia a plate and taking Grace from her arms. Cynthia was pulled away by another one of her friends.
“I should have known you were ‘round the second I saw Truman and Wyatt,” Sawyer said, reaching for Easton’s hand.
“Crashing barbeques?” Easton teased.
Sawyer looked down at Georgia.
“I work with Sawyer in a way,” Georgia said. “He sends me clients that need promoting.”
Easton’s eyes went a little wide. “No joke? Yeah, that’s right—I think I knew that. I remember telling Memphis your bar was legit.”
“Easton is mine,” Georgia said to Sawyer, patting Easton on his firm stomach.
Sawyer’s eyes shifted between them and Grace as a knowing smile lingered on his lips. “Good to see my advice paid off more than once.”
The air grew a little tense, like it always did when Georgia or Easton’s past would surface.
“Take my advice,” Easton said. “The ribs are to die for.”
“Only have to tell me once,” Sawyer said as he made his way to the banquet table, but not before his stare moved across the three of them once more.
“Sawyer,” Easton said under his breath.
“He caught me when I fell. Literally. I was knocked around by a crowd,” she said, lifting her elbow.
Easton’s gaze fell to Grace. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him. He still pipes out those analogies.”
“All the time.”
Everyone was eating as the food was prepared, if not eating then wandering in and out of the house. The room upstairs that had all the portfolio images she had taken in Willowhaven had the women’s attention; the pool table or sports channel had the guys’.
“There she is,” Memphis said when he walked into the kitchen with Truman trailing him. Georgia was cleaning Grace’s face as Easton tackled her hands. More of the strawberry shortcake was on Grace than in her belly, that much they were sure of.
“Come on, little bit, we need to break in this pool table. Already told them that if anyone knew their way around one, it was you, and you were going show them how it’s done.”
Even though she was focused on Grace, she still blushed, and when she glanced up and saw Easton holding in a sinful grin she elbowed him. Which made them laugh at their own inside joke as shifting stares from Memphis and Truman moved between them.
“That would be rude to be tucked away up there. You guys play. I’m going to put some more food away.”
“You’re on, Easton,” Memphis said. “I’m going first this time.”
“Hey,” Truman said, “you two need a sitter tomorrow. Sawyer wants us to go to that venue with him. Free music and beer. You can’t say no to that. Harley and Wyatt are coming, too.”
Easton glanced at Georgia to see if she was up for it. She had already mentioned she felt like she was ignoring Sawyer.
“We’ll be there,” Easton said when he saw her smile.
Easton landed a kiss on Georgia’s forehead, then Grace’s before he followed the guys, not thinking twice about leaving Grace with Georgia.
Hours later, everything but a few snacks were put away. Some guests had left including Georgia’s grandmother, Randal, Cynthia, and her friends. Downhill stretch, Georgia thought to herself.
Kate was talking to Georgia about all the things she had done to her own house. Grace was dozing in Georgia’s arms.
“You want to lay her down?” Kate asked.
From the few times Georgia had watched Grace through nap time, she knew Grace moved too much for Georgia to feel safe having Grace sleep on her bed, and her car seat made Georgia feel claustrophobic. She could only imagine how it would make Grace feel.
“I have her bed,” Kate said as she went to the stairs and yelled for Easton to come down. By the time he did come down, Georgia was near white again, and he was trying to figure out what his sister had done to cause it.
“Help me get that bed out of my trunk. Grace is done.”
“Like, a real bed?” Georgia asked.
“It’s a travel one, what she sleeps in when she’s at my house. I put it in the trunk to give to Easton because she hasn’t stayed there in months, not since you started helping out.”
Georgia bit her lip; Easton was trying to read her. This was them moving closer. Even though Georgia kept Grace a few times a week, all there was at Georgia’s house was one push toy, which Grace was faster than now, and a swing.
“We can put it in the room next to mine,” Georgia said.
It was the one room she had not touched. She painted it and bought an area rug for it, but that was as far as she went. She couldn’t tell you why either. That room should be her office. When people came over to review the images she had taken, it would make more sense for them to go there than to go all the way through the house to get upstairs.
She was swaying Grace in the room as she walked along the walls when Kate and Easton came in with a bed and a large, fluffy travel bag.
“We got it, Kate,” Easton said to her when she went to set up the bed. His sister glanced up at the three of them, took the hint, and then left. Easton shut the door behind her, then slowly turned to face Georgia.
“I can go—we can go. If she’s really worn out, I can take her home and put her in her bed.”
Georgia looked down at Grace’s heavy eyes, then up to Easton’s. She was scared as hell but she spoke her next words nice and slow. “I want her to stay. I want you to stay.”
Easton didn’t say anything at first, didn’t move. All he ever wanted from Georgia was for her to stay, for him to be her safe pocket.
Before he tackled the bed, he walked over to her and pulled her lips to his while his daughter drifted to sleep in her arms.
If Georgia thought getting Grace out of her car seat was as simple as defusing a bomb, the bed had to be as complicated as building a rocket.
She was thinking it was going to be some kind of playpen, but it was a real crib, one Easton put together like a pro. He even ensured the sheets and blankets were just so before he took Grace from Georgia and changed her for the night and slipped on her PJs. Something so simple, something he did without a thought because he had done it a million times, made Georgia fall even harder for him. To watch those hands be so careful, so gentle.
Afraid the room would be too dark, Georgia went to get one of her lamps and tables. By the time she was back, he had Grace nestled in the bed with a mobile spinning over her, whispering a lullaby.
When they left the room, Easton was grinning from ear to ear. Tomorrow, he would wake up after the sun had risen with Georgia in his arms, make them breakfast, spend the day with his girls, and take his woman out that night. Another step, he thought.
Chapter Eighteen
The stench of the venue slammed into Georgia like a tidal wave. It had been a long time since she had seen a live show. She told herself that was why she was a bit nervous, but then again it could have been because it felt like Easton and her past were clashing. He had been all smiles and relaxed until they got there tonight.
“Have
you been here before?” she whispered into his ear. They were on the VIP balcony, which overlooked the stage below and the growing crowd.
Truman was right at home, no matter where he was. Georgia had figured that much out. He had made friends with the others at the tables around them and was moving up and down the steps, talking to people on both floors. Harley and Wyatt were on the dance floor below, laughing as they held each other.
Easton smiled vaguely. “Too many times to count.”
“Why are you so uptight?”
“Not a good side of town.” A vague truth; there were more dangerous venues, no doubt. Easton had more than a few issues with this place. He thought he had spotted some old buddies before, but they slipped into the crowd, which made him question if he would cross an ex tonight. The fact that every guy in this place had eyes on his woman was not helping matters.
The first band started playing before she could defend the venue. In Georgia’s mindset, the venue was low key, nothing like the places she had been to in the past.
Toward the end of that set, Wyatt came to Easton’s side and said something to him that only he could hear. Georgia felt him tense, wanted to know what was up, but before she could ask he leaned in to her and said, “I’ll be right back. Will you stay with Sawyer?”
“I’m a big girl, Easton,” she said, trying to make a joke. He didn’t seem to find it funny. She was almost wondering where her boyfriend was and who this guy she was out with was because she had never seen this side of him.
He landed a kiss on her lips, then left with Wyatt, moving down the stairs into the crowd. Georgia tried to keep up with where they were going. It wasn’t toward the stage, but to the bars that were under where she was standing.
Sawyer was further back on the VIP level, and after her ass was grabbed a few times, and more than one come-on line was shot at her, she pushed back from the rail and made her way to him.
It was quieter back where he was sitting; you didn’t have to yell. “So, are you investing?” she asked him.
“Maybe. Good crowd for a Sunday.”