He just grinned and turned her toward the freezer on the other side of the counter. “Nondairy sorbets.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, obviously tempted, as was he—but not for ice cream.
He might have been teasing when he’d responded to her comment about sinful decadence, but his desire for her was very real. There were all kinds of deliciously sinful things he wanted to do to her body, all kinds of decadent pleasures he wanted to share with her.
“The orange mango looks really good,” Georgia finally said. “But so does the piña colada...and the raspberry...and the lemon lime.”
“Raspberry gets my vote,” Matt told her. “Or you could go for the sampler bowl and try three different flavors.”
She shook her head. “I’ll stick with the orange mango for today. I have a feeling the boys are going to want to come back here on a regular basis.”
Matt ordered an orange mango cone for her and a raspberry for himself, while Georgia tried to help the boys narrow down their choices. Through the bits and pieces of conversation that he overheard, it sounded as if Quinn was vacillating between chocolate chip cookie dough, chocolate fudge brownie and chocolate peanut butter cup. Apparently the kid really liked chocolate. Surprisingly, Shane seemed to have already made up his mind.
“Two kiddie cones,” Georgia finally told the teen behind the counter. “One chocolate peanut butter cup and one vanilla.”
Vanilla? To Matt’s way of thinking, that was almost as bad as not having any ice cream at all.
“Wait.” He held up a hand to the server and turned his attention to Shane. “Vanilla? Really?”
Shane looked down at his feet, but he nodded.
“That’s your absolute favorite flavor?”
“I like ’nilla,” he said. But the quiet statement was hardly a rousing endorsement.
“Better than cotton candy or bubble gum or—” Matt looked at the Kids’ Favorites labels “—superhero or alien invasion?”
That got the kid’s attention.
Shane lifted his head. “What’s alien ’vasion?”
Matt boosted him up so that he could see into the freezer case.
“It’s lime sherbet with blueberry swirl and fruit juice gummies,” the server said, then winked at Shane. “And one of my favorites.”
The little boy nibbled on his bottom lip, considering.
“You want to give it a try or do you want to stick with vanilla?” Matt challenged.
The server scooped a tiny spoon into the bin and offered Shane a taste.
He looked to his mother for permission before accepting the spoon and cautiously sliding it between his lips. He hesitated for another minute, then pointed to the green ice cream. “That one. Please.”
They decided to eat inside in the hope that Quinn and Shane might be able to finish their cones before they melted. Georgia seemed worried that, despite the sample, Shane would change his mind about alien invasion. But after a few more tentative licks, he pronounced it “the best ice cream ever” and she finally turned her attention to her sorbet—and had Matt’s attention completely riveted on her.
Quinn gobbled his ice cream, as if he was afraid someone might try to take it from him. Shane—happy to have broadened his flavor horizons—worked at his cone methodically and steadily. Georgia savored every lick, closing her eyes and humming in appreciation as the sorbet melted on her tongue. She somehow turned the consumption of a single scoop of sorbet into a blissful, sensual experience, making Matt wonder: If she was this passionate about dessert, how much passion would she exhibit in the bedroom?
“Doncha like it?”
Shane’s question snapped Matt out of his reverie and back to the present.
“’Cuz you can share mine if you don’t like yours,” the little boy offered.
Matt shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll leave it up to you to gobble up all the alien invaders.”
Shane smiled at that and took a bite of his cone.
The boys finished quickly—probably because they had as much ice cream on their hands and faces as in their bellies, the result of Quinn deciding to dig a peanut butter cup out of his cone in exchange for one of the gummy aliens from his brother’s—and Georgia sent them to the washroom to clean up.
Though he knew it would only increase his own torture, he convinced Georgia to sample his raspberry, and nearly groaned aloud as he watched the tip of her tongue lap delicately at the sorbet. But when he tried to finagle a taste of her orange mango, she refused.
“You said the raspberry’s the best,” she explained. “Which implies that you’ve already tried every flavor.”
It was true, but her obvious enjoyment of the orange mango made him suspect that it might taste better than he’d remembered. But since she wasn’t sharing, he leaned over and touched his mouth to hers.
“Mmm.” He swiped his tongue over her bottom lip. “Maybe that is better than the raspberry.”
She drew back and when he shifted, as if to kiss her again, she stuck the cone between them to keep him at a distance.
He nibbled at her sorbet; she narrowed her gaze.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you? Tricking me into letting you taste my sorbet.”
“The sorbet was my consolation prize—what I really wanted was a taste of you.”
“You got that, too, didn’t you?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Not nearly enough.”
* * *
Georgia and Matt finished their cones and they headed back outside. Pippa was still comfortably snuggled in her baby carrier, so as soon as the boys had climbed back into their wagon, they were ready to head out. She automatically reached for the handle of the wagon, only to find that Matt had beat her to it.
He kept telling her that she didn’t have to do everything on her own, and Georgia was starting to believe it. But as nice as it was to have someone around who was willing to lend a helping hand, Matt had done so much for her already and Georgia didn’t want to let herself rely on him too much.
She’d always prided herself on her independence. If she didn’t count on anyone else, then she wouldn’t ever be disappointed. But she found that she was starting to depend on Matt, not just because he helped her out in so many ways, but for his company and conversation. She liked having him around, just knowing he was there.
And the more time she spent with Matt, the more that growing attachment concerned her. And it wasn’t only her own feelings that she was worried about.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Matt noted. “Something on your mind?”
She shook her head, unwilling to admit that he was the reason for her preoccupation. But after a moment, she realized there was something else bothering her, too.
“Shane always has vanilla,” she said.
“Did I overstep by suggesting that he try something different?”
She shook her head again. “No. I’m just surprised that he was willing. His dad was strictly a vanilla guy,” she admitted. “And I think one of the reasons Shane always had vanilla was a subconscious attempt to be more like his dad.”
That maybe having something in common would cause Phillip to pay more attention to him. But of course she didn’t say that part out loud. “He’s always been so painfully shy, so much quieter than Quinn. Part of it, I suspect, is being Quinn’s brother. My sister likes to joke that Shane doesn’t talk much because he never has a chance to get a word in edgewise.”
Matt glanced back at the wagon, where Quinn was entertaining his brother with a running commentary of one thing or another. “There might be something to that theory,” he mused.
“Maybe,” she acknowledged with a smile. “But he’s talked more to you in the past three weeks than he’s talked to anyone else in the past three months.”
“Is that good or bad?” he asked cautiously.
“It’s good.” Now she looked over her shoulder at the boys in the wagon. “Spending time with you has been good for both of them.”
She sighed. “I just don’t want them to start expecting too much, depending on you.”
“Because I’m not dependable?”
“Because they’re not your responsibility.”
“Why does it have to be about responsibility?” he demanded. “Why can’t I just hang out with you and your kids because I enjoy hanging out with you and your kids?”
“You’re twisting everything around,” she protested.
He paused in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’m twisting things around?”
“Yes. I’m just trying to establish some boundaries—”
“And every time you throw up boundaries, you only tempt me to breach them,” he warned, deliberately dropping his gaze to her mouth so she knew that he was thinking about kissing her again.
Georgia had spent more than enough time remembering every minute detail of their first kiss and, with her lips still tingling from the much briefer but more recent kiss in the ice cream parlor, she decided it would be smart to heed his warning.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised.
Satisfied by her response, he started walking again.
Georgia fell into step beside him, as baffled as she was intrigued by this man. But it was a nice day for a walk, so she tried to concentrate on the scenery rather than her frustrating neighbor.
She’d always scoffed at the idea that people moved faster in the city. Life in New York hadn’t seemed so fast when she was moving at the same frenetic pace as everyone else. Whenever she and Phillip had gone out anywhere, they’d rushed to the subway so the underground train could whisk them to their destination. They’d always been in a hurry to get where they were going. As odd as it seemed, she couldn’t even remember just taking a leisurely stroll with her husband.
For a lot of reasons, she’d been reluctant to leave Manhattan. She hadn’t wanted to take the boys away from everything familiar, but she’d felt so isolated and alone in the city. Maybe Phillip hadn’t been a very hands-on dad, but he’d at least been there so she wasn’t completely on her own. When he’d died, she’d become painfully aware of how truly alone she was. And with three-and-a-half-year-old twins and another baby on the way, she’d also felt completely overwhelmed.
When Charlotte left for Vegas, Georgia had been alone again, although not for long. Matt had moved in next door and suddenly she had a neighbor, a friend, a confidante...and maybe even more.
And she wanted more, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.
For the past year, she’d focused on being a mother to the exclusion of almost everything else. Being with Matt made her remember that she was a woman, with a woman’s wants and needs.
She just hadn’t yet figured out what, if anything, she was going to do about those wants and needs.
* * *
Five days later, Georgia still didn’t have any answers. Since four of those days had been Matt’s days at the hospital, she didn’t see much of him. It was just like the man to get her all stirred up and then disappear, and she didn’t doubt for a single minute that he’d done it on purpose. He was giving her time to think, to wonder, to want. She could no longer deny that she wanted.
But while she’d spent the better part of four days thinking about Matt, he’d apparently been busy planning a party, because when she took the boys outside late Saturday afternoon, there was quite a crowd gathered on his back deck. Even from a distance, she recognized both of his brothers and a woman that she thought might have been Kelsey, but most of the other guests were unfamiliar.
“Finnigan and Frederick are out,” Quinn said, already heading in that direction.
Georgia caught his arm just before he raced past her. “I know you want to see the puppies but you can’t just go over to someone else’s house uninvited.”
“Dr. Matt said we could go anytime,” Quinn reminded her.
“I know that’s what he said, but he has other company today and it isn’t polite to intrude.”
“I don’t wanna be polite,” her son protested. “I wanna see Finn.”
She had to fight against a smile. No matter his faults, at least he was honest.
“I’m sure you’ll see Finn tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day—”
“I wanna see him today!”
And apparently the puppy wanted to see him, too, because before Georgia could admonish her son, the puppy came tearing across the grass, racing as fast as his little legs could carry him. As usual, Fred was right behind him, neck-in-neck with a third puppy.
“Look, Mommy.” Shane’s eyes were wide. “Finn and Fred have a friend.”
“I’m thinking he might actually be another brother,” Georgia said.
Finnigan and Frederick were ecstatic to be reunited with their pint-sized playmates, and they jumped and danced around the twins while their companion went exploring. He put his nose deep in the grass and followed a trail—directly to Pippa’s blanket.
Georgia watched as the baby and puppy eyed one another. Pippa lifted a hand, as if to touch him, and the puppy pulled back, out of reach. She dropped her hand, he moved closer, sniffed her face, then swiped his tongue across her chin. Pippa giggled.
The puppy licked her again; the baby giggled some more.
And then a strong arm reached down and scooped the puppy up and away. Pippa tipped her head up, wondering where her furry friend had disappeared to, and smiled when she saw him wriggling in Luke Garrett’s hold.
“I’m so sorry,” Matt’s brother apologized. “I didn’t think he would venture too far—or so quickly.”
“No worries,” Georgia assured him. “And he might not have ventured this way on his own, but he followed Finn and Fred.”
“I should have been keeping a closer eye on him, so he didn’t slobber all over your child.”
She shrugged. “A little doggy spit never hurt anyone.”
“I wish you could tell that to my date from last night.”
Georgia’s brows lifted. “She had a different opinion?”
“Oh, yeah,” he told her. “When I took her back to my place after dinner—”
She held up a hand. “I’m not sure I want to follow wherever you’re going with this.”
Luke grinned. “Strictly G-rated. All that happened was Einstein licked her hand—not even her face, just her hand. And just once. And she jumped up screaming ‘I’ve got dog germs’ like Lucy in the old cartoons.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the image his words evoked. “First question—how did you end up dating a woman who doesn’t like animals?”
“It was a blind date,” he said. “I didn’t know she didn’t like animals.”
She didn’t even ask about the fact that he’d taken a woman, on a first date, back to his place. Obviously a lot of things had changed since the last time she’d been on a first date. Instead, she said, “Second question—Einstein?”
He sighed. “Because he’s not.”
“Having a little trouble training him?”
“More than a little,” he admitted. “I have never met an animal so determined not to do what he’s told.”
“Wait until you have kids.”
He shook his head. Emphatically.
“Not that I dislike kids,” he hastened to explain. “And yours are great. I just don’t see myself as a father—not anytime in the near future, anyway.”
“That’s because he’s still a kid himself,” Matt said.
Georgia hadn’t seen her neighbor approach, and her heart gave a little jolt when he winked at her now. And she wasn’t the only female affected—Pippa’s eyes lit up and she gave him a gummy smile.
Matt picked up the little girl, who settled comfortably in his embrace, and Georgia realized that her boys weren’t the only ones getting attached to “Dr. Matt.” And she wondered again how it was that a man who so obviously doted upon children didn’t have half a dozen kids of his own.
“Un
deniably,” his brother admitted with a grin.
“Then I would guess that’s a family trait,” Georgia noted. “As common as the broad shoulders and brown hair.”
“We’re not as similar as people think,” Luke denied. “Matt’s the smart one, Jack’s the charming one, I’m the good-looking one.”
She chuckled at that. “I think you all got more than your fair share of brains, charisma and looks.”
“And they’re all heartbreakers,” Kelsey warned, joining their conversation.
Matt tugged on the end of her ponytail. “Don’t you be telling tales out of school,” he warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said sweetly. Then she spotted the puppy in the crook of Luke’s arm. “Ohmygoodness—he is such a sweetie.”
“You had your chance to take one,” the vet told her.
“I’ve already taken enough animals off of your hands,” she retorted, stealing the puppy from him—at least for the minute. “Is this one Finnigan or Frederick?”
“That one’s Einstein,” Luke said.
“He’s sooo adorable.” She tore her gaze away from the puppy for a minute to explain to Georgia, “Brittney was dying to see Uncle Matt’s puppies, so I brought her over and crashed the party.”
“It isn’t a party,” Matt protested.
“Tell that to the dozen other people hanging out on your back deck.”
“I didn’t invite any of those people,” he denied.
“I did,” Luke admitted. “Think of it as an impromptu housewarming.”
Georgia glanced over at Matt’s deck. “None of those people look like Brittney.”
“She’s in the house, on the phone with her ex-boyfriend, attempting to remind him of the ‘ex’ part,” Kelsey told her.
Georgia winced. “That’s awkward.”
“Yeah. Almost as awkward as not inviting your neighbor to a backyard barbecue,” she said with a pointed glance in Matt’s direction.
“I would have invited my neighbor if I’d been planning a barbecue,” he retorted, before turning to Georgia to say, “Apparently I’m hosting an unplanned barbecue.”
“Apparently,” she agreed, trying to hold back a smile.
From Neighbors...to Newlyweds? Page 12