“Maybe Kyle should fight for what's his,” Silas muttered.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes at Silas. “He doesn't have to fight for me. We’ve been together forever. We’re good. He's busy.”
“Maybe you don't think he has to fight for you, but a little healthy competition never hurt anyone. Let him know you’re basking on the beach with a sex god while he is hunched over his books―might make him take notice is all I’m saying.”
“He doesn't need to take notice. Kyle and I are good.” I was growing irritated by this conversation.
“Is that why you looked so into the aforementioned sex god running his tongue up your neck last night?”
I opened my mouth to shoot Silas an angry retort but nothing came out. We continued to sit silently on the beach towels while I rolled Silas’ words over in my head. He picked up his magazine and went back to flipping pages as I continued to watch the happy couple necking in the water and pondered the sexy enigma that was spending the summer in my beach house while my boyfriend sat three hundred miles away in a tiny office. Maybe the decision I'd made when I bought the beach house meant more than I’d realized.
Fourteen
Tristan
I’d never met anyone like her.
I’d met a lot of women, prided myself on my equal opportunity friendships, but none were like Georgia Hope Montgomery.
Seeing her rock her hips to the music at the club, watching her pretty eyes downcast had set a pot to boiling in my stomach. I didn’t know what else to do, I knew only that I couldn’t have her.
And damn if she wasn’t determined. I knew we’d connected, I knew those mornings over coffee meant something, the afternoons on the beach with a book, not just to me but to her too. With this girl I wanted to open up, I wanted to share my feelings, I wanted to share everything with her. It was an odd sensation, one that was foreign and thrilling in the same shallow breath.
When I’d caught sight of the blonde at the club, she was everything that I normally went for. Long tall legs in a short skirt, flowing golden hair that wrapped around her shoulders, and curves that made my knees weak. But at the club, after having my lips on Georgia’s, after having her steadfastly tell me that she was not mine and would never be, all I fought was the sense of revenge.
I wanted to make her jealous. I had so stupidly thought that seeing me with another girl would give that same feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach like it did me when I thought of her with her boyfriend
Kyle.
The name made my insides twist with pain. I wanted to pummel his face, and I didn’t even know him.
I knew instantly he was too good for Georgia, hell I knew I was too good for Georgia, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to be better for her. I liked a challenge, that was true, but Georgia was so much more than that.
I wanted to prove to her this summer that I could be better, be what she deserved, because I knew damn well if she was mine I would never let her spend the summer three hundred mils away from me. I would take care of her, shower in attention, please her until neither one of us could think straight. I wanted to be hers and hers alone.
I wanted everything with Georgia, and that made me determined.
The instant she’d bumped into me at the club I’d seen the look of pain radiating through her dark irises and I knew I’d fucked up. I hadn’t even wanted my hands on that girl, I’d been thinking about dark brown waves and pouty rose lips that drove me insane and occupied every waking thought I had.
As soon as Georgia had bolted from the table later, stubborn fire burning in her eyes, I’d excused myself from the blonde that’d been trailing on my arm and found her.
Like a homing beacon I’d gone to Georgia, my hands around her waist, my lips dusting across the heated skin at her neck. She was intoxicating, and while I’d half expected her to punch me in the balls when she’d turned around, relief had flooded me like a tidal wave when she hadn’t. Despite all my cocky airs and sarcastic remarks, I was desperate for her arms around me. If she only knew that she held all the control, I was a puppet. Every decision I made, even the bad ones, were in reaction to her. Her pain, her rebuttal, her refusal. Her.
Nothing hurt more than rejection from the very person you wanted the most.
I’d learned that lesson the hard way, which is why the instant Silas had left with my girl, I’d hit the fucking road, taking a cab straight to the marina and stopping at the store for a six-pack before camping out on my boat.
Alone.
I’d seen the unspoken question burning in her eyes earlier, the word on her lips.
But I didn't want to tell her, didn’t have it in me to tell her she’d crushed me when she’d pushed me away, said it would never happen. Said we would never happen.
So why the fuck was she consuming me then?
I shoved a hand through my sopping wet hair, having just powered through a few laps down the shore while the girls sat on beach towels up the beach. Watching Drew and Gavin this summer was like a wrecking ball to my heart, when the only girl I could ever imagine having that with walked around that big empty house, taken by someone else.
My arms ached and the salt breeze on my skin felt invigorating as I walked up the shoreline, headed back to Georgia. Headed back to the light in my life, the darkness I carried in my heart, the one girl I couldn’t stop thinking about.
This summer would either be hell on earth, or some other beautiful side of paradise that I had yet to discover. The jury was still out on what would be the outcome of Tristan and Georgia.
Fifteen
Georgia
EVERY MORNING THE following week, Tristan and I had coffee together on the porch. Rain or shine, windy or warm, we were both there. It wasn’t that we made a point of being there, we just were. While the rest of the house was silent, Tristan and I sat and talked. The first few mornings had been a little awkward after our intense encounter at the club, but we’d soon settled into a comfortable rhythm.
I made more of an effort to call Kyle on most nights to catch up. Sometimes he had time to talk, other times it was only a quick few words. The days I couldn't call, I texted. I felt comfortable in the place Kyle and I had found despite the fact that we were separated by three hundred miles. I told him about the work Drew and I were doing on the house and he listened as I described the different pieces I’d bought and my vision for each room. We were finding a way to stay close and bridge the gap that had stretched between us.
“Hey.” I stepped out into the gray morning with two coffee mugs in hand, one for me and one for Tristan.
“Hey.” He smiled, reaching for a cup. “Thanks.” He brought the hot liquid to his lips while I sat and curled my legs up underneath me.
“Sleep well?”It was a question he asked most mornings.
“Yeah. I talked to Kyle before bed last night.”
“Yeah?”
“He's going to try to come down this weekend.”
“Hmm.” He took a sip of his coffee. “He hasn't been here yet, right?”
“No. I was telling him about the work Drew and I have been doing. He's excited to see it.”
“I’m sure he'll love it.”
“Yeah.” I sensed an uneasiness between us. The first in a while. “Everything all right?”
“Just a lot on my mind.” He replied as he watched the white-capped waves.
“Work?”
“Among other things.”
“You can tell me anything,” I offered.
“Can I?” He turned and his deep green gaze honed in on me.
“Of course.” I averted my eyes and brought my coffee mug to my lips. “We’re friends.”
“Are we?”
A knot formed in my stomach as I sensed his gaze still on me. “Sure,” I mumbled.
A few silent moments slipped between us before Tristan turned back to the water. “I hope Kyle likes this place. It's great here.”
“He will. I love it here. He’ll love anything I love.
”
He only nodded as silence descended again. I continued to sip my coffee and watch the waves roll up on the shore and then recede again.
“I’m going to head into town. I want to pick up groceries and grab paint chips for the master bedroom.”
“Okay, Georgia.” His eyes lifted to mine and a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. It stopped me in my tracks for an extra beat before I grinned back at him.
* * *
FRIDAY MORNING I was gearing up for Kyle’s arrival. I hadn’t seen him since I’d left D.C. in May. More than a month and I was missing him like crazy. I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around his neck and sleep curled against his body at night.
I wanted to make his favorite dinner―a classic pot roast with carrots, potatoes, and parsnips. It was his mom's recipe, and when we moved in together, she gave it to me. It was a simple dish that didn't take much time, other than putting everything in the slow cooker, but it reminded him of home so I loved making it for him. He said he'd need to work while he was here, but I was so excited to have him at the beach house with me that he could be doing anything and I’d still be happy.
“Working?” I said as Drew set her laptop up at the kitchen island.
“Yeah, going over the quarterlies. Tristan said Kyle's coming tonight?”
“Yep, should be here around six.” Just a few hours and I could wrap my arms around him and inhale his spicy cologne―the scent of home and comfort.
“Excited?” Drew asked as she split her attention between our conversation and her laptop.
“Very. I also picked up paint samples for the master bedroom.” I moved on to chopping carrots.
“You’re going to wait ’til after the weekend to paint right?” Silas plopped on a barstool next to Drew.
“Yeah, I’m just getting ideas. Maybe Monday I’ll start.”
“What color are you thinking?” Drew asked.
“I picked up some grays; I thought some navy or teal accents would be pretty with it.”
“Grey, again? You're so…depressing.” Silas popped a pretzel into his mouth.
“Hey!” I pouted.
Silas shrugged as he chewed. “White Russians on the menu?”
“Kyle's favorite,” I said just as my phone vibrated in my back pocket. “Speaking of,” I said as his name flashed across the screen.
“Hi,” I answered. “Pot roast and White Russians for you this weekend.”
“I can't come, Georgia.” Kyle's dejected voice echoed in my ears.
“What?” A frown crossed my face.
“Sorry, honey, work. My boss threw a case at me this morning. I have to be in the office all weekend.”
“Kyle...” I felt tears prick my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Georgia. I tried to get out of it. I know you were excited.”
“You haven't even been here yet,” I muttered as I turned my back from Drew and Silas and walked across the living room.
“I know, honey. Really, I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I promise I’ll come soon.”
“Fine.” I stared out the window watching the waves roll onto the shore. Rage was starting to bubble inside my stomach.
“Next time. I promise, Georgia.”
“Okay,” I said through gritted teeth. I knew I wasn’t being fair; he couldn’t help it when his boss flung more work at him. But I was still angry and disappointed and hurt.
“I’ll try and call tonight.”
“Okay.” I rolled my eyes because he never called me. Once in a while I got a random text from him but otherwise I was the one making all the effort. It bothered me that he couldn’t call even a few minutes before he went to bed at night, but I’d vowed to do everything I could to keep us close, so I called him always. Even just to talk for a few minutes.
“Love you, Georgia.”
“Love you too,” I mumbled and hung up before the lump in my throat released an audible sob. I slid my phone back into my pocket and crossed my arms, watching the waves out the window.
“Everything alright, G?” Drew called from the kitchen.
“Kyle can't make it.” I walked to her.
“What a dick,” Silas sneered.
“He couldn't help it,” I defended as I slumped onto the barstool next to Drew.
“So he says,” Silas mumbled. I only frowned. I knew I should try to be the supportive girlfriend, but I’d been that for years now, and I was disappointed and hurt that, yet again, Kyle couldn’t be there.
“Well, let's bust out the White Russians. Five o’clock somewhere, right?” Drew hopped off the stool and went for the bottles.
“I thought you were working.”
“My girl comes first.” She winked as she started making drinks.
An hour later, we were two drinks in, and I was feeling buzzed as the three of us sat on the floor in the living room with the paint chips spread out in front of us.
“I like Stonehenge gray.” I held two paint chips up in my hand, debating the merits of both.
“Too dark. Pewter is pretty,” Drew contended.
“Maybe I want dark. Maybe I’m a dark girl.” I wrinkled my nose at her before we busted a gut. “It's settled, Stonehenge gray, my room, now.” I jumped up and grabbed the bucket of paint, a roller, and paint tray.
“G, you’re not painting right now,” Drew emptied her glass.
“Angry white woman.” Silas laughed, mixing another drink for himself. I grinned and headed for my room.
“G, seriously?” Drew trailed behind me, half serious and all drunk.
“Help me move the bed.”
We pushed the bed and nightstand to the middle of the room.
“Throw the drop cloth over it while I open the paint.” I wedged the paint stick into the lip and leveraged it open and gave it a stir.
“I love it already,” I said, finishing off the last of my drink.
“You are two crazy bitches.” Silas sat on top of the drop cloth with a fresh drink in his hand.
“Can it.”
“He's right, G, you’re nuts.” Drew laughed as she poured paint into the tray. “But no going back now.”
“Start rolling.” I passed her a roller. We both took turns sliding our rollers through the paint then swiped large swaths on the wall.
We painted until the largest wall was completely covered. Drew instructed Silas to make us each another drink and he did so obediently.
“Gavin is going to die when he sees this.” Drew dragged her roller through more paint. Tristan and Gavin were running errands in town and had been gone for a few hours, missing the phone call and the ensuing drama.
Silas came back with drinks and Drew and I took long swigs. We were halfway through the second wall when we heard Tristan and Gavin barge into the house.
“Babe,” Gavin called through the house.
“In Georgia's room,” Drew called back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Gavin entered with Tristan trailing behind him.
“Georgia is a woman scorned so we’re taking revenge on the walls.” She tossed him a wide smile before taking another drink.
Tristan's eyes shot to me, a question written on his face. “Kyle?” he asked.
“Not coming. Work, blah, blah, blah.” Drew waved her hand. “But we’ve got White Russians to make up for it. He's boring anyway,” she whispered to Gavin, but obviously not quietly, because we all heard her. I saw a smile on Silas’ lips. I kicked at his foot but missed.
“How many drinks are you in?” Tristan's eyes trained on me.
“A few,” I said. He shook his head still smiling.
“I’m sick of painting,” Drew pouted.
“We can't stop halfway through,” I pleaded with Drew but I knew I’d already lost her.
“We'll finish tomorrow, I promise,” she said.
“I’m not sure painting while drinking is really recommended anyway,” Tristan said, taking both rollers. I frowned at him, reaching for my drink.
“Gavin and I will help tom
orrow,” Tristan said.
“Promise, Georgia.” Gavin curled his arms around Drew and gave me a sweet smile. My heart fractured a bit watching them. I’d been so anxious to feel Kyle's arms around me this weekend.
“Fine. I need another drink anyway.” I looked sadly into my empty glass.
“Make me one and I’ll clean up in here,” Tristan offered as his sympathetic gaze caught mine.
“Deal.” Our eyes held for a moment and my heart started to thud in my chest. Those eyes could really get a girl lost. And the way those lips curved up mischievously―they left me dreaming about the naughty things he could do with them.
Wait, no.
That's not what I was supposed to be thinking at all. I licked my lips nervously and left the room, bee-lining for the kitchen and more alcohol.
“Let's play poker!” Drew clapped her hands. After our paint operation was shut down, we'd refreshed our drinks and made our way out to the porch. The sun was setting and the breeze was cool as we listened to the sounds of the beach.
“Strip poker.” Gavin goosed her as she jumped up and ran into the house. Tristan looked over at me and rolled his eyes. My head swam happily. If Kyle couldn't be here this weekend, I was at least thankful I’d bought the ingredients for White Russians to help me forget him.
“I am not playing strip poker.” I warned as Drew tossed cards on the table and seated herself in Gavin's lap.
“Come on, G. Remember our conversation? You need to loosen up.”
“I’m terrible at poker.” I shook my head.
“All the more reason to play strip poker.” Gavin winked as Drew smacked him on the chest. Tristan smirked, his eyes glinting in the moonlight heated my cheeks.
“You play strip poker, count me out.” Silas pointed to us. “I may have a date anyway.” He looked at his phone.
“Going out with Justin?” I asked.
“No.” He winked.
“Someone else? You’re a whore, Silas.” I knocked his shoulder with mine. His grin widened as another text came in.
“We’re not exclusive. Just keepin’ my options open,” he said distractedly as he read the text. “Strip away, loves. I’m out.” He danced into the house.
Sweet Alibi Page 9