Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  “I don’t think I’m following you.”

  Boone tilted his head from side to side. “With the show coming up, and the new release, I’ve got so much on my plate.” He pointed out the window. “I have a new song I’m trying to finish. There’s a studio behind the barn. Come around tonight, and I’ll show it to you.” He pinched his forehead. “Listen, I realize downtown is only forty minutes away, but it would be so much easier for me if you could stay here. I know it wouldn’t be easier on you, though, but decided to ask anyway and hope you’ll be willing to do it.”

  Not what she expected. Georgia folded her arms and rocked. “I get it. I do. You’re probably being pulled in a million different directions. And you know how much I appreciate you giving me an exclusive. You probably have a million reporters, magazines, and shows begging to talk to you.” She let out a long breath. “Yeah. Of course, I can stay here.” She brightened with an idea. “But if you want to sweeten the deal, you know what I’d love?”

  He shook his head, looking at her intently. “Hit me with it.”

  “I’d love to be able to go riding, and I’m sure not going to ask Harlan if I can borrow Jess. Would you let me take Delilah out whenever I want? Within reason, of course, and only if you’re not riding her.”

  “No problem, sure. I won’t be able to ride her much anyway, and I know she’ll love it.”

  She held out her hand, and he chuckled, shaking it. “Deal. How about we start today?”

  Boone frowned and glanced out the window. “I guess I could ride Morticia to hunt for cows, and we have rain gear in the barn you’re welcome to use, but are you sure you want to ride in all this rain and mud?”

  “It’s better than being cooped up here with your brother.”

  Riding high above ground, covering Beckett Ranch’s wide-open spaces astride Delilah, made Georgia feel alive. The experience was the opposite of her everyday life of writing in cramped quarters, trying to concentrate amid New York City’s constant racket. This was just what the doctor ordered.

  She’d been seeing a psychologist to help her get out of the funk she’d been in for the past few months. Dr. Jennings was convinced a better diet, more exercise, and sunshine would be enough to turn her mood around, and for the first time in a long time, Georgia was starting to believe her.

  She was beginning to remember the girl she used to be, the one who rode daily in the fresh air every summer she spent at her grandparents’ house. She was so overwhelmingly elated about the possibility of finding a way back to her roots and becoming that happy girl again, it might have been why she didn’t notice the hole. Maybe her head was so far up in the clouds she lost her balance.

  Georgia landed hard on her side in the thick mud. Adrenaline stormed through her as she gasped frantically, trying to catch her breath. Rolling onto her back, she blinked through the rain, staring up at the grey clouds, tasting dirt and rain on her tongue. She smeared a hunk of mud across her icy cheeks, scraping the earth away from her nose so she could breathe.

  Everything her grandfather taught her about falling came back. Get your feet out of the stirrups, clear the horse, find a patch of earth without rocks, and let go.

  Her eyelashes fluttered, but she tried to keep the rest of her body still while she searched for Delilah, smiling softy when she spotted her on all four healthy legs off to the side, near a tree.

  It wasn’t Delilah’s fault Georgia fell. Boone’s pretty palomino merely dipped and skipped over the hole so she wouldn’t trip, and had behaved like a perfect lady the whole ride. Georgia had no business taking her out in heavy rain. Although to Georgia’s credit, the rain had picked up after they left, and they were on their way back when the accident happened.

  When her breathing returned to normal, Georgia lifted her head up out of the mud and slowly turned her neck to the left and right. She wiggled her toes, and shook her legs, expecting the worst, but didn’t feel any pain. She flopped her arms and stretched her fingers. No pain. Maybe if she’d remembered what her grandfather taught her about falling all those years ago, she wouldn’t have broken her leg. Why had everything come back to her today, in that split second?

  The sound of thunder caught her attention. The earth rumbled, sending vibrations under her back and shoulders. Georgia dazedly turned, resting her cheek on the cold, wet soil and saw Harlan rapidly dismount Jess and run to her.

  How did he know where to find her?

  “Don’t move.” His words were raw and heavy as he dropped to his knees, bending over her, shielding her from the rain.

  Tired and jittery at the same time, Georgia closed her eyes and breathed in his clean, mulberry scent, happy to be okay. No matter how angry she was earlier, it was a relief to see him.

  When she heard Harlan draw a jagged, sharp breath, Georgia scanned up past his rain poncho, to his dripping wet face. Wasn’t his hat supposed to keep him dry? Anxiety covered his perfect features as he shifted, examining the top of her head. “I’m okay,” she whispered, “but you’re still pretty rotten.”

  “I see you’ve managed to keep your sunny disposition,” Harlan’s rich voice was so close to her ear, it reverberated through her. She could tell he was holding back a laugh. “Please stay still.”

  Georgia closed her eyes again, thinking the adrenaline must be seeping out of her system, because even though she could move, she didn’t want to. An aching tiredness covered her like a blanket, and she enjoyed the warmth of Harlan gently moving her hair and checking her scalp—for blood, most likely.

  “Do you hurt anywhere?” his voice cracked as he squeezed her right shoulder, and moved his hand gently down her arm, massaging her all the way to her fingers.

  “I didn’t break anything.”

  “You don’t know that. You’re probably in shock, but don’t worry, okay? I’m here.”

  For whatever reason, out of the entire body-bashing experience, from flying off the saddle to smashing into the mud, it was the sound of Harlan of all people, saying don’t worry, I’m here, that caused the warm tears to trickle from her eyes and down the sides of her face.

  No one had ever said that to her before. No one was ever there for Georgia. And worry was her way of life, and why she kept to herself, intentionally keeping it boring because it was safe.

  How ironic that, after years of being good, and thoughtful, and careful, when she finally cut loose for the first time in a decade, she immediately crashed and burned.

  Harlan moved down to her legs and lightly felt her left thigh—not too far up, or she might’ve kicked him. She turned her head to watch him, and he caught her looking. “I think I like playing doctor with you, but next time can we do it in a nice, dry room, in front of a cozy fire?”

  “You’re just trying to be nice because I fell.”

  “So you think playing doctor with me would be nice? Okay, I’m game. Let’s go find you a naughty nurse outfit.”

  She smiled up at the clouds, hearing him chuckle. After finishing his inspection of both her legs, Harlan shifted, coming back up to her face.

  “See? No need to worry. I’m fine.” Georgia sighed.

  Harlan’s crystal blue eyes locked on hers, and for the first time she noticed layers of depth behind them. “Well, I know you’re fine Peach.” He gave her a heart-stopping grin, inching closer to her face. “I could’ve told you that before you fell.”

  Georgia’s ears burned, her body abruptly wide awake and alert. Harlan looked so sweet. A word she would never have used to describe him, but he was being sweet, and so sexy, gently brushing her hair off her forehead, mesmerizing her with his warm gaze.

  “I’m not sure I even like you.”

  Harlan’s eyes sparkled. She held her breath, watching him lean in closer. “Maybe a kiss will help you make up your mind.”

  Stuck on how full his lips were, and wondering how it would feel to press hers against them, and how Harlan would taste, and what he would do, she closed her eyes and forced herself to stop looking. “You don’t r
eally expect me to believe you feel that way about me, do you?” She blinked, recovering from her momentary lapse of judgement.

  His eyes lit with a spark. “Is this how you repay me for saving you?” he teased in a low, raspy voice.

  “You are so bad,” she scolded, refusing to be sidetracked by how gorgeous he was. “After the way you treated me this morning, you’re actually trying to hit on me when I’m flat on back in a foot of mud?”

  Harlan shook his head, immediately losing his flirtatious expression. He levered himself up off her, got to his feet, and ambled off. He didn’t go too far, though, and stopped a few feet past her boots. Suddenly feeling cold and alone, Georgia wiped the rain off her face with the back of her hand so she could see him clearly.

  Angling his chin down, meeting her gaze, Harlan nodded, apparently amused. “Don’t worry, Peach, I was only checking for head injuries, and I can tell by your unwitty repartee and disdain for me that you’re back to your old self again.”

  He turned away again, facing Jess and Delilah, and came back to her. “But hey, for future reference, don’t knock being on your back, darlin,’ it can be fun sometimes. It’s even fun the other way around.” Harlan took his hat off, shook the rain off it, and put it back on. “You might want to try it every couple of years.” He grinned, trudging over the mud and crouching beside her. “Here, let me help you up.”

  Ignoring his snarky comment, Georgia propped up on her elbow and held out her hand. “Thanks.” Harlan’s hand passed hers by going straight underneath her. “What are you doing?”

  Harlan wedged one large hand under her legs and gripped under her shoulders with the other, lifting her up out of the mud and into his arms like a sack of potatoes.

  Taking a second to figure out what was happening and afraid he’d drop her, Georgia latched her arms around his neck and hung on. “Are you crazy?” she shouted, feeling dizzy, looking up at his square jaw while the rain pounded against her face.

  Georgia had never been with anyone strong enough to even attempt picking her up. Feeling dainty and light was a unique sensation, especially since she’d gained fifteen pounds, and because she wasn’t a skinny mini to begin with.

  Georgia bounced in Harlan’s arms as he trekked over mud puddles, carrying her without saying a word. “Is this your idea of flirting? What is this?” The thought of his powerful body, his arms, his hands all over her—the feeling of his granite chest against her cheek, the smell of his neck, sent chills and tingles through her to every place they shouldn’t go.

  “Please, put me down,” she yelled over the rain. “I’m perfectly fine to walk.” The gate to his driveway was just a few yards away, but that wasn’t the point.

  “It’s not a problem, you don’t weigh much,” Harlan raised his voice over the distant crackle of lightning. “It’s faster this way. I’ll get the horses later.”

  He made it sound like it was normal for him to be holding her this way, with his hand clasped around her thigh, and his fingers stroking the side of her breast. If he moved another inch, he’d be touching her nipple. It just wasn’t right.

  Even though her teeth were starting to chatter, her body lit up in flames from her toes to her neck. “That’s okay. Please, if you wouldn’t mind. I can walk.”

  Harlan shrugged and eased her down until her boots were firmly planted in the mud. Georgia blinked up at him, lost for words.

  He studied her with an expression she couldn’t read. The questionnaire, the ride, the fall, him holding her like that, all added up to a minefield of confusion. “Thank you for checking on me. I’ll meet you back at the house,” Georgia shouted over the rain.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Peach, I wouldn’t leave any woman lying in the mud. I was just feeling sorry for you.”

  The comment came out of nowhere and stung more than she wanted it to.

  “I don’t need your pity,” she snorted, getting her bearings—although she’d never figure out the way his brain worked. “Thanks for bringing Delilah in for me.” Georgia ducked her head and made a wobbly beeline for the house.

  11

  Boone laced his fingers behind his head, kicking back in the oversized chair. “It’s on the tip of my tongue. I can feel it.” He sighed, scanning the dark blue soundproofed walls up to the ceiling.

  “We're thinking about it too hard.” Harlan hummed the melody, hoping the last line they needed would come to him. Seated at the small table in the corner, he clicked his pen again and again while staring blankly at a yellow legal pad.

  Boone hummed and then cut the tune off. “Hey, you mind taking Georgia into town tomorrow? I’m going to be staying at Bobby’s while he has time to practice, and she needs to get her stuff from the hotel and check out.”

  “I thought you said Jimmy was going to start on the road tomorrow now the rain’s stopped.”

  Boone stretched his arms behind him. “You saw how hard it came down today. She has that dinky rental. The road might be open, but you know how rough the drive will be.” Boone eyed him. “It’s the same story every year.”

  Harlan considered his brother. Boone should’ve let Georgia stay in town, but Harlan wasn’t going to bring it up. It would only put more stress on him, which was the last thing he needed right now. Releasing a debut album was like having a baby. At least that’s how Harlan imagined it. And putting out the follow-up album was just as rough, if not worse.

  “No problem.” Harlan doodled on the notepad and peeked over. “You seem pretty into her.”

  “Georgia?” Boone frowned, unhooking his fingers and straightening. “Nah,” he shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s gorgeous, and smart as hell. I really like her. But—”

  “But she’s not Becca.” Harlan frowned. How long was it going to take Boone to get over that girl?

  “No, she’s not. Besides, you’re the one losing your mind over her.”

  Harlan clicked the pen again. “You’re way off, she’s the opposite of every woman I’ve ever dated.”

  “That’s my point. She told me you rescued her today. It’s kind of funny how you just happened to be out riding at the same time. In the rain.” Boone waggled his brows. “Were you following her?”

  Harlan shook his head, annoyed with his baby brother for putting him on the spot. “I was checking fences,” he lied. After how perfectly Georgia’s curves felt in his arms, she was all he could think about. She’d given him an erection so hard it hurt. “Are we just going to forget the song?” Harlan tossed the pen on top of the legal pad.

  The rap on the door made them both turn to look. Speak of the devil, Georgia peeked into the studio. “Is this a good time?”

  Harlan thought she’d settled into her room for the night. He squinted over at Boone, steadying himself, looking for a way out of dealing with a woman he still didn’t know. And his brother didn’t know her either, no matter what he said. Harlan lowered his voice a notch. “Are you okay with her being here?”

  Boone nodded and turned to the door. “Sure, come on in, Georgia. How are you feeling? Harlan and I are in the exact same place we were two hours ago. You haven’t missed a thing.”

  Her dark eyes flashed with excitement, beaming into Harlan’s for a quick second before she pivoted to Boone. “I'm still a little sore, but it’s nothing I can’t manage.”

  Georgia ambled past Harlan wearing jeans and a loose Nashville T-shirt that somehow managed to look sexy as hell even though it was about ten times too big. She also wore the same too-big cowboy boots she borrowed the first day, although they looked a whole lot better than they did this afternoon. How did she manage that? She probably spent some time with the saddle soap.

  “Don’t let me get in the way,” she said with a curvy sway, taking a seat in the matching chair next to Boone’s. Her blonde hair had a sheen to it Harlan hadn’t noticed before. It must be the way the light is hitting it.

  She crossed her long legs, pulled out her notebook, and faced his brother.

  “You know what?”
Boone got to his feet and nodded at the recording studio. “You’re not going to get the full picture unless you hear what we’re working on.”

  They’d been going back and forth, playing around with different recordings earlier, starting and stopping the song, trying to find the perfect lyric, but moved to the main room a half hour ago. Sometimes a change of location helped nudge their creativity.

  But forget the song. Harlan was running through a list of ways he could get creative with the woman flashing her exquisite brown eyes at him again.

  “Ready for another go?”

  “Uh, sure. Let’s do it.” Harlan grabbed his legal pad and pen and Boone and Georgia followed him past the amps and equipment and the slew of guitars on the wall to a smaller, windowed room.

  He flicked on the lights, strolled to a console the size of his formal dining room table, and pushed a button. A thousand flickers flashed blue, green, and red. At the same time several monitors blinked on above the mixing board.

  “So this is where the magic happens.” Georgia studied all the knobs.

  Harlan felt a burst of energy and settled into the chair at the helm.

  Boone rested his arm on the tall counter bordering the board and looked down, pointing.

  “Play the song we’re working on, Harlan. Georgia hasn’t heard any of it yet.”

  “Do you usually write in here?” she asked in a soft voice that drilled through him. Why didn’t you let me kiss you today?

  Harlan cleared his throat. “I used to write on the bus sometimes if I was amped up after a show, and if the mood hit me. But when it comes to hunkering down and really working, yeah. I usually do it here.” Harlan smiled at her and pointed through the glass to the room they just left. “Or there.”

  Georgia grinned back at him, holding her stare for a beat too long, and Harlan remembered he wasn’t the subject of her interview.

  “Same goes for me,” Boone added. “I’ve been getting by with a makeshift setup in my guest room, but I'll have my own studio soon.” He checked out the board. “They’re building it now. We usually come up with the melody first—what, ninety percent of the time, Harlan?”