Is it just going to end like this?
Feeling tears well up from out of nowhere, she swallowed hard and stowed the makeup case in her purse for easy access in the morning. Taking a beat to regain her composure, she took the turn out of the bathroom and found Harlan sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I should probably leave early since I have to return my car,” Georgia reminded him when she dropped her purse off on a chair near her suitcase.
“Do you need any help with anything?” he asked halfheartedly.
Was he trying to get rid of her? “No. No thanks.” Georgia knelt on the carpet and pulled a few things out of her suitcase to wear on the flight. TSA be damned. She’d have to take her new boots off in the security line, but she’d wear them.
26
Harlan took two steps at a time coming down off the porch into the morning sun, noting Boone’s truck still wasn’t in the driveway. “Georgia, what are you doing?”
He’d thought she was in the bathroom at first, and then spent the past fifteen minutes searching the house for her.
Approaching her with his standard, confident, long strides, Harlan slowed. Running a hand over his head from his forehead and down to the back to his neck, taking in the ramifications of her car’s open trunk and the suitcase parked behind it on the flagstone. Was she in a hurry to leave?
Georgia reached down to grab her luggage, but he beat her to it.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
“I can do it,” she claimed, struggling with her suitcase. “I’m perfectly capable of getting it into the trunk myself.” She stood her ground, forcefully trying to brush his hand away from the handle.
Harlan firmly gripped the handle anyway. “You are not lifting this thing in front of me.”
She silently queried him, apparently ready to argue over who got to help her leave, which infuriated him.
“My house. My rules.”
“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, dragging her feet, and stepping back. She folded her arms and cocked her head, surveying him. “Although the driveway isn’t technically your house, so my rules might very well apply.”
He swiveled his head and took a long look at her, wanting to ask, are you serious? but only shrugged, and placed the luggage in her trunk with a thud. “Is that it?”
She nodded.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she nodded again, stepping in front of him and closing the trunk. The crunching metal sound was worse than getting punched.
No matter how many times Harlan reassured Georgia that her kisses would take all the pain away last night, Georgia took one look at his bruised rib cage and was afraid she’d hurt him if she touched him.
Although she played Nurse Nightingale and kept changing his ice pack and offering ointments, water, tea, you name it, Georgia’s kisses didn’t go any further than a peck on his good cheek. There was something happening behind her eyes, though, and a quiet quality to her voice that made him wonder if she was as upset about the prospect of her leaving as he was.
Neither one of them admitted anything.
He was used to being in control and getting exactly what he wanted, but apparently all bets were off when it came to Georgia. With her, Harlan wouldn't push. Yet, even after listening to her breaths even out in slumber, Harlan had tossed and turned. While Georgia slept, a restless battle raged within him that kept him awake all night.
“Are you sure that’s it?” she asked. “That’s the real question here.” Georgia took a few paces past him and then swung around back to Harlan, folding her arms.
A sense of urgency drove him to her. He’d had enough. With his heart pounding, Harlan reached down and unfolded her arms. Eyes sweeping over her appraisingly, he drank her in. “Do you really want to know how sure I am that we are not over?”
Her eyes glistened. “I do.” Georgia’s voice quavered. “I'm going to miss you so much, Harlan.”
Harlan brought his hands to her face. Holding her cheeks, he drew her lips to his and gave her a forceful kiss. Loving her, and angry that Georgia would ever think of leaving him, that she was naïve enough to think he would just let her go.
She appeared stunned when he abruptly broke from the kiss. Silently questioning him, she traced her lips with her fingers. “That was some kiss. Was that your answer?”
“Darlin', this is more than a case of me missing you. Come with me.” Harlan covered her hand with his and held it. “I have something for you.”
At least now Georgia knew without a doubt that he would miss her. With throbbing lips, and heart-thumping curiosity racing through her, Georgia kept her hand safely tucked in Harlan’s while they walked to his studio in silence. What on earth did he have for her? Harlan didn’t need to buy her anything.
The only thing Georgia wanted from Harlan was an invitation to stay longer. She still had more than enough time to return the rental car in town and catch the shuttle to the airport, but if she thought about leaving for another minute, she’d start bawling.
While fighting the urge to fall apart, Georgia kept her chin firmly in place, not allowing it to tremble, because once it did, a floodgate of tears would open.
Harlan surprised her by ushering her through the studio’s practice room. The thought had crossed her mind he might give her a few guitar picks or a tambourine, something to do with music as a memento.
Harlan opened the door to his recording studio and she stepped in. Scanning the counter past a coffee mug full of pens and a few crumpled edged notepads, she looked for a gift of some kind, and then it dawned her. Georgia broke into a smile. “Am I going to be the first to hear another song?”
“You could say that.” Harlan took his place at the helm of the console, eyeing her as he sat down. Georgia felt a surge of excitement from Harlan’s heated stare. “I want you on my lap for this one.”
Her eyebrows shot up. She’d barely been able to sleep last night because she was so lonely without his touch.
Harlan pushed off on the rug, making the chair roll back. Slapping his thighs with his palms, giving her an irresistible grin, he crooned, “Right here.”
Georgia wanted to wrap her arms around him, drag him off that chair and— “Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” she worried, checking him out.
“Get on my lap, woman,” Harlan repeated, tapping his thighs again.
A little of the swelling around his eye had gone down, although the discolorations were darker. Careful of his ribs, Georgia slid an arm around Harlan’s neck and settled on his lap, basking in his clean scent. “What’s the name of the song?” She asked, guessing which one of the levers he’d use.
“It’s called ‘Never Have I Ever.’”
She sat up, looking past his bruises and into his deep blue eyes. “You mean that game?”
He gave her a blank stare.
“You know the one,” she explained, “Someone starts by saying never have I ever, for example, sung onstage. In that case, you would drink, because you have sung onstage.”
“No. The song has nothing to do with a drinking game.” Harlan reached for her face and, seeming hypnotized by her mouth, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I can assure you, though, I have been drinking you in every second of the past two days.”
His big hands clasped around her waist as he shifted her on his lap. She clung to him, watching him reach across the console and press the red button next to the VU meters.
The song started, and Harlan settled back in the chair, keeping his arms wrapped snugly around her, pressing her closer against him. “Now close your eyes and listen to the lyrics. Will you?” he asked over the crystal strings of an acoustic guitar.
“I will,” she agreed, nestling closer.
“Promise you won’t say anything until the song is over.”
“I promise,” she said solemnly, honored he’d share his song with her.
“I wrote this just for you last night,” he said in a soft voice.
Her heart dropped to
the floor. “You did?’
“While you were sleeping.” Harlan nodded perfunctorily and turned back to the mixing board, where he raised two levers, turning up the volume of a poignant, tender melody.
Shy and Harlan were not two words she’d normally use in the same sentence, but at that moment they suited him.
Noting the change on his face, a rush of emotions wreaked havoc through Georgia’s system, fighting for her attention from one end of the spectrum to the far end of the other.
Harlan wrote a song for her. And it was loud and beautiful, and anticipation of his message welled, as though her heart was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. If the song was about a simple friendship, or a fling, her heart would plummet.
Georgia swallowed around the lump in her throat. As Harlan’s voice poured through the speakers, touching her from every angle of the room, she closed her eyes and listened:
I wanna kiss you forever
I wanna never let go
I wanna touch your soul
I wanna breathe you in
on a blanket of time
Georgia gasped in shock, slowly turning to Harlan. His beautiful eyes gazed into her heart as the song continued to play.
Under the stars or
in the bright blue
Just you and me
Never have I ever
felt this way.
Never have I ever
thought this day
would end and you’d walk away.
Oh, that someday is today, baby.
Someday is right here, baby.
The tears overwhelmed her. Love covered her in a blanket of happiness, infusing her with hope, wrapping her in dreams coming true. Mouthing the words, Harlan whispered against her lips, and all she could do was listen in shock.
Never have I ever
kissed this way.
Never have I ever
Never have I ever
Found my forever
Feelings of passion and love clamored for her attention, clouding her brain, turning everything into a blur except Harlan. He planted a kiss in the hollow of her neck. His lips trailed up back to her lips, where she devoured them, all the while listening to him sing.
I know it’s fast
but I think this will last.
Never have I ever begged someone to stay.
Someday is today
Please stay
Someday is today
“Will you stay?” Harlan whispered between kisses. “I’m in love with you. I know it’s crazy, but please listen to the song again if you have to and tell me you’ll stay.”
“I’ll play that song over and over until the day I die, Harlan.” She tried to focus on his beautiful face through the blur of tears. “Yes,” her voice broke. “I’ll stay. Of course, I’ll stay. I love you, Harlan,” she said, kissing him. “Two days, two months, two years, it will always be yes. Yes, I’ll stay.”
Six Months Later
The months had been a whirlwind. After Georgia filed the story with her magazine, and despite her picky editor offering to double her salary, she decided to go freelance, leave New York, and move in with Harlan. Her parents were shocked, her mom horrified she’d make such a decision so quickly, but she didn’t know Harlan the way Georgia did.
After he proposed two weeks ago, The Owl was the first place they thought of for the reception and the party. Everyone they loved was celebrating their engagement with them and would be there for them en masse at the Lonesome Courthouse two weeks from Thursday.
“You did propose to her in town, didn’t you?” Linda asked Harlan and frantically turned to her. “Where, exactly, did he put a ring on your finger?”
Laughing, Georgia waved her left hand, showing off her diamond, still not believing how much her life had changed. She tipped her cheek up to Harlan, who gave it a kiss.
“In the park,” Harlan answered, “on the bench across from Belle’s. We’re not taking any chances, even if the legend isn’t true.”
“Facts are facts, Peach,” Linda raised her voice, getting Pearl’s attention from a few barstools down. Pearl caught Georgia’s eye and headed over. “Check the stats,” Linda continued. “Lonesome has the lowest divorce rate per capita in the U.S.”
Georgia nodded. “I believe you.”
“We believe you, Linda,” Harlan added, “But the question is why?”
“Apparently, it has something to do with the proposals, too.” Linda leaned closer to them. “My great aunt Agnus has been keeping records. You must be proposed to and have said yes, and get married within the town limits.”
“You are correct, Linda.” Pearl got up from her stool and sashayed over to them. “The wedding and the proposal both factor in equally in order for your happily ever after to happen in Lonesome. Congratulations, you two.” She gave them each a peck on the cheek.
“Now, I don’t claim to know everything about this town.” Pearl turned to Harlan. “And as to your question, why does this phenomenon happen here?” She paused dramatically, blinking her false eyelashes and patting her bun. “Well, I don’t know the entire story, but I know there are some folks around here who do.”
Boone bellied up to the bar, a few rows down from Harlan and Georgia, and started on his second beer.
“Another round for the happy couple?” Linda laughed from behind the sleek wood counter. “Now let me get this straight, you still want the same exact beer you drank on your first date here?”
“Yes!” Georgia and Harlan said in unison, leaning against the bar. Georgia tapped the counter for good measure. “Set ’em up, Linda.”
“You do realize if this type of behavior goes on after the wedding, you’ll be one of those couples.” Boone grinned. “Colt,” he raised his voice. “Back me up here.”
Colt who was standing with his back to him, turned. “Annoying.” He raised his glass. “I concur,” Colt teased. “Almost as annoying as hearing both my brothers on the radio every fifteen minutes. I swear, every time I turn the dial one of you bastards is singing to me. Wasn’t I tortured enough having to listen to you every day growing up?”
The group broke into laughter, but it was unusual for Boone and his brother to be dominating the airwaves at the same time.
When Boone released the “It’s Just a Matter of Time” album, the title shocked him by jumping to the top five on the country charts within a week. Despite her protests, Boone and Harlan insisted on giving Georgia songwriting credits.
And after he, Colt, and Georgia convinced Harlan to get back in the public eye and share “Never Have I Ever,” with the world, it hit the top ten in less than a month.
Once the story behind the song got out, everyone thankfully seemed to forget about the Harlan-Danny’s-wife bullshit. The new rumor going around was Harlan had fallen in love, for real this time, and fans downloaded the track in droves. For once the tabloids got it right.
Boone took another pull from his beer and shifted, watching Linda flag the couple who were already acting like newlyweds. He’d never seen Harlan smile so much. “You want to use the same type of glasses from your first date at the reception too, right?” Linda teased. “You understand I had to wash your original glasses.”
She placed two more beers on the counter in front of Harlan and Georgia. “You’re positive you’re not pregnant?” Georgia nodded.
“Not yet, but oh, we’re having babies, Linda,” Harlan confessed. “Just you wait. We’ll have a little band up on that stage of yours this place will never forget.”
“I don’t doubt you for a second, Harlan.”
Boone turned back to his beer. As much as he didn’t want to think about himself while he was at Harlan and Georgia’s party, he couldn’t help thinking about Becca. She used to look at him with the same light in her eyes that Georgia had when she was looking at Harlan. Becca made him feel like her hero and he—he flat out worshipped her, and wasn’t afraid to show her every second they were together that he loved her.
It wasn’t supposed to go like this, Harlan wasn’t supposed to beat him down the aisle. Boone should’ve been married by now and starting a family. That’s all he ever wanted.
That was the plan, and one of the reasons his mother gave him the nickname, Love Maker. He was the romantic of the family and knew love when he found it.
So what if he met the love of his life early? He didn’t have to date around to be sure, and knew without a doubt on their first date that Becca was the only woman for him. Seven years later, not a damn thing had changed, except for the fact that she was gone.
And what was the point of all the work if he didn’t have her to share his successes and dreams with? Boone couldn’t care less about all the fans, no matter how beautiful, no matter how many threw their panties at him onstage or whatever.
Where was Becca?
Was she making love to someone else at this very minute?
Did she ever think about him?
How was he supposed to find happiness and take on the world without her by his side?
* * *
The End
Find out what happens in Boone and Becca’s steamy second chance romance Lovemaker!
https://www.katekisset.com/lovemaker-lonesome-cowboy
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About the Author
Former San Francisco radio disc jockey Kate Kisset writes romances filled with heart, humor and heat. A girl’s girl herself, Kate’s heroines are smart and feisty and her heroes are drool worthy book boyfriends.
* * *
When she's not writing, Kate's favorite job is being "The Mommy." She enjoys reading, binge watching Netflix and the Hallmark Channel, wine tasting, cooking, listening to music, and hiking with her loyal companion Luciana Parmigiana, her rescue-dog-editor
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 163