Georgia On My Mind (A Magnolias and Moonshine novella Book 7)

by Amanda McIntyre

  They talked, and Georgia found it surprisingly easy. So much so that later that night, when he’d dared her to go with him and a few others to the abandoned Stoneville house, promising he’d not leave her side and she didn’t need to be afraid, she agreed. The challenge that she couldn’t handle fear is what had pushed her to go. When, at one point on the dark trail through the woods, two of the guys veered off to create spooky noises for those going on, Justin pulled her behind a large oak and explained what was about to happen to those who’d walked ahead.

  “And should I be afraid of what’s going to happen to me all alone with you out here in the dark?” she’d asked, touching her hand to his cheek.

  He’d kissed her as she’d hoped, cautiously at first. Tentative. Unsure of his sexual prowess. Georgia had wondered if he’d ever kissed a girl before.

  Maybe it was the night, the company, maybe the half cup of beer that left a pleasant buzz to her brain. But she grabbed the back of his head, infused with the need to taste his lips on hers. She’d pined after him silently for weeks, sneaking glimpses of him as he walked through the halls at school, their shoulders briefly touching once in the crowd between classes. He hadn’t noticed, but she hadn’t washed that shirt for a month after.

  “Wow,” he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. He licked his lips and searched her eyes.

  “I saw you that night at my dad’s bar,” she confessed.

  His gaze narrowed. “That’s right, at Langley’s.” His hand slid down, drawing her hips to his. He grinned. “You were bussing tables, as I recall, that night. I knew we’d met before.” He touched his lips to hers.

  “Not really met,” she said between his persistent kisses.

  “Georgia, right?” he nuzzled the spot below her ear.

  Chills raced down her spine, to her knees and everywhere in between. He knew her name? “Yeah, Georgia Anne,” she whispered, drugged by his charm.

  “Georgia Anne,” he repeated with a smile as he studied her face. “I think you and I are going to get to know each other a whole lot more. What do you say?”

  She fisted his jacket and dragged him closer, delighting in the low growl as she pulled him into another fiery kiss.

  So began the season of their senior year—a year of unbridled, youthful passion. Oblivious to anyone but each other, they spent every moment together, defying anyone to call what they had anything but the “real deal.” That summer before he was to leave for college was seared in her memory. One rainy afternoon on an old deserted dirt road, they’d both lost their virginity in the cab of his beat up pick-up truck.

  ***

  “Hey, Georgia.”

  Shaken by her bartender’s authoritative voice, Georgia shook herself from the ancient memories.

  “It’s that distributor again.” Tank held the side door open. “Wants to talk with you about the order you placed earlier this week.”

  Her body tingled still from her previous thoughts. She blew out a sigh and looked up at the stars beginning to dot the night sky, realizing how she’d lost track of time. “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Two

  Justin sat on the tarmac, staring out the plane’s window. He was on the last leg of his flight that took him from Omaha to Chicago and finally on to Atlanta. He’d waited three hours at Midway for adverse weather to pass through the city. The plane was full. A few seats back a baby was being soothed by a parent. His nerves were stretched thin, and two hours ago, he’d started contemplating again the wisdom of going back home. It had been three years since he’d set foot in his brother’s home. Three years since he’d visited his father’s grave. His eyes drifted shut as the plane began to taxi for take-off.

  He’d seen her during the service at the cemetery, standing near an old oak tree at the edge of the road. She held an umbrella. Her hand lifted with a tissue to dab at her eye, then she climbed into the small car he remembered she drove back in high school.

  Unsure why, he left, following her into the deserted Langley’s parking lot, and caught up with her as she unlocked the front door.

  She turned, startled to see him. “Justin.”

  “Hi,” he said, unable to stop staring at how she’d become even more beautiful since the last time he’d seen her. Her dark hair was swept up, exposing the gentle curve of her neck. He blinked, pulling himself from wondering whether her skin still smelled of lavender and iris.

  “I was sorry to hear about your dad,” she said. Her eyes searched his. “I could use a drink. How about you?”

  Justin followed her back to the small apartment off the back of the bar.

  “I’ve been living here while trying to get the bar back up and running after Dad died,” she said, slipping off her black heels. She wore a dark gray sleeveless shift that followed her curves.

  “I didn’t hear about your dad, I’m sorry.” Suddenly his life seemed so distant from hers.

  She poured him a finger of scotch and ushered him to sit. “It’s okay. It’s been a couple of years now. At least he’s not suffering anymore.” She smiled sadly and held up her glass. “To our fathers.”

  Justin watched as she tipped hers back like a shot. He followed suit. Three glasses later, they found themselves traveling down memory lane, laughing at the good times, smiling through the awkward silences when their gazes would meet and the past ignited between them. Maybe it was guilt, grief—a need to be close to someone who understood him. He took her glass and leaned in to kiss her. The taste of whiskey was on her tongue, her lips. It wasn’t slow and easy, once the floodgates of passion opened. Barely out of their dress clothes, all inhibitions were flung aside. Driving one another blindly to the precipice of oblivion, she clung to him, her soft, encouraging words infusing his soul with life.

  Later, she’d taken him to her bed, where the world itself seemed to fade away. Into the wee hours of the morning they explored one another--satisfying, pleasuring, whispering words spoken in passion, urging each other until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  As the first fingers of dawn crept through the window, they’d lain with a sheet covering them both, her head resting on his shoulder. He’d dozed off and on for an hour, not wanting to miss a moment shared with her. Picking up her hand, he’d rubbed his thumb over her slender fingers, relishing how his body remembered her gentle exploration. “You know, I never understood what happened between us. I mean, I know you didn’t want me to give up going to college. But I guess we were both pretty young.”

  She rose on her elbow, giving him an inquisitive look.

  “What?” he said.

  “Your father never said anything?”

  Justin sat up as Georgia climbed out of bed, wrapped a robe around her, and walked back to the living room. Confused, he slipped on his pants and followed her.

  “What are you talking about?” A cold dread formed a pit in his stomach at the thought of his manipulative father and what he might have done.

  She held her clothes in front of her, obviously hesitant to speak openly.

  “Georgia? What about my dad?”

  “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter much now.” She offered him a weak smile. “He paid a visit to me and my dad that summer. You’d already been accepted to numerous colleges and were still deciding” She curled a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was around the time when I had that little pregnancy scare.”

  Justin sat down on the arm of the sofa. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what he heard.

  “Before I go any further, understand that it was probably the best for everyone involved. We were both too young. Things between us had moved too fast—and, in truth, it was mostly physical.” She caught her lip with her teeth, uncertain to continue.

  “Bull,” he muttered. Even though, deep down, he knew she was right.

  “Your dad,” she started, “came to see mine one afternoon. He made a lucrative offer to my father and asked me to stay away from you.” She looked down. “To be fair, I had already planned to
break things off, simply because I didn’t want you to give up your future for me. I couldn’t have lived with myself.” She shrugged, darting him a look. “And my dad, his health was getting worse. I knew he was going to need me. I’m all he had, Justin.”

  He shook his head, trying to understand what she was telling him. “You mean to tell me that my dad paid yours to force you to break up with me?” He narrowed his gaze on her.

  “I told him no. My dad told him no.” She hugged herself, having a difficult time getting through this. “I told him he didn’t need to pay anyone, that I’d already decided to break things off with you.”

  Justin felt as though he’d been smacked with a fast ball from left field. He swallowed, trying make sense of what he was hearing. “I don’t understand--how’d he know about us? The man never paid any attention to me—Jake was his favorite. The kid could do no wrong.” It dawned on him then how his father discovered about his relationship with Georgia.

  He met Georgia’s gaze. “Jake told him.”

  “Does it matter now, Justin?” She sat down at the opposite end of the couch. “Your dad’s gone. My dad’s gone.”

  He glanced at her. “So, you’re okay with how things turned out?”

  “I’m the one who should be offended here, aren’t I? It was your father who came here ready to strike a deal. And your brother who instigated it.”

  Jesus. She might as well have driven a dagger in his heart. Justin rose and slipped into his shirt and shoes, and started to leave. She stopped him.

  “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way.”

  “And that you never answered my letters, returned my calls.”

  “It was part of what I promised.” She clamped her hand on his arm. “Justin, it was better the way things turned out.”

  “So, what was this?” He jerked his arm away. “A pity fuck?” He shook his head. Though there was a measure of truth to her reason, the fact remained that she hadn’t been truthful with him--and more, his own brother had gone behind his back and never once mentioned it, much less apologized. Then again, Jake was like his dad in that he very rarely apologized for anything. The bastard. He was going to kill him.

  Hurt flickered in her gaze. She stepped away. Her chin lifted in defiance. “Goodbye, Justin.”

  Pride churned his gut. She didn’t have to say it more than once.

  ***

  A gentle nudge on his shoulder brought him fully awake. He looked up into the kind eyes of the flight attendant. “Please bring your seat to a full and upright position. We’re preparing to land in Atlanta.”

  The dream lingered in his brain and Justin glanced out the window, seeing the familiar landscape below. Life had moved so fast in the days following that there’d been no time to speak privately to Jake. He and Faith had taken off on a cruise to explore possible destination weddings venues, while he helped his mom move to eastern Montana to help care for her sister. After acquiring a new job teaching and taking on coaching, he’d all but left the pain and heartache of Atlanta behind.

  A sudden jerk clenched at his stomach as the wheels touched the ground. His fingers curled around the arm of the chair as the plane sped like a banshee down the runway. Trapped inside, its passengers could only hope that, when all was said and done, they’d arrive in one piece, no worse for the wear.

  That’s exactly how he felt about this weekend.

  ***

  “Justin, it’s been a long time. Come on in.” The lanky blonde with deep, brown eyes stepped aside, holding open the door that, for eighteen years of his life, he’d carried a key.

  “Thanks, Faith,” he said. “That traffic is more brutal than I remember.” He dropped his luggage in the foyer where once he’d dropped his gym bag—much to his father’s disdain.

  “It’s so good to see you.” His brother’s beautiful wife reached out and pulled him into a warm embrace. Jake had met Faith just after he’d started as vice-president of Andrew Wade Reed’s successful advertising firm. That was a year before their dad had been found dead of a heart attack in his private lavatory off his luxury top-floor office. A year later Faith and Jake had joined a few friends and family members in St. Croix where they were married in a lavish, private ceremony. Both had been highly competitive in their fields--now Faith stayed at home managing the house, the Buckhead neighborhood association, and a half-dozen or so other philanthropic groups that made her husband look good to his peers in the community. Jake took his business seriously and Justin just hoped that the firm wouldn’t swallow him whole, the same as it had their father.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” Justin glanced over her shoulder. “Where’s that brother of mine?” He glanced at his watch. It was almost nine o’clock on a Wednesday night. He sniffed, catching the lingering scent of a pot roast wafting from the kitchen.

  “Oh, Jake called to say that he was running a little late. They’re closing a big deal today with an important client.”

  Justin brushed off Faith’s obvious embarrassment that Jake hadn’t bothered to give Justin a call himself. “Is that a roast I smell?” He changed the topic.

  His sister-in-law’s eyes lit up. “It is. I’ve had it in all day. Are your hungry?”

  “Starving.” Justin removed the casual suit jacket he’d worn on the plane. “Those pretzels and peanuts just don’t cut it.” He reached out and blindly dropped his coat on the row of hooks he’d known to be on the wall to the left for years. His jacket slid down the wall in a lifeless heap. Justin smiled and grabbed it before Faith. “Old habit,” he said with a grin, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a stranger in his childhood home.

  Faith held out her hand “It’s okay. Justin didn’t like the clutter in the foyer.” She turned around and hung it on the bannister post of the steps leading to the second floor. “That way you can grab it before you head up to the guest…er, your room.”

  He nodded, determined not to let his awkwardness show. “I’m sure you guys have done great things with the place.” Justin followed her past the stairwell and down the corridor connecting the foyer to the back of the house, specifically the kitchen—or what used to be the kitchen. He blinked against the harsh glare of clinical lighting made all the more so by the sterile black and white of all the appliances, cabinets, and flooring. It gleamed with the luster of a new car showroom. He couldn’t imagine their mom, Sylvia Reed, would appreciate all the modern touches of granite and steel. Suffice it to say, it was no longer the cozy place where they’d done their homework at the dining room table under the watchful eye of their mom. He squinted against the sterile brightness and rubbed his eyes, already burning with fatigue from his early morning flight and several layovers in airports.

  “I know it’s not how you remember it, Justin. Jake decided he wanted a more--”

  “Modern look?” Justin filled in with a smile.

  Faith shrugged. “You know how your brother loves urban industrial.”

  Justin slid onto the chrome barstool, one of four alongside the giant granite-topped work island placed in the center of the kitchen. “He always preferred glass and steel…just like Dad.” Until he’d moved away, Justin hadn’t realized how polar opposite they were in so many ways. Justin had followed their mom out to help on the rescue ranch on weekends, while Jake loved going to the office downtown with their Dad.

  Faith got a plate out and served up a plate of steaming roast, potatoes, and a variety of vegetables from the Crock Pot. Reaching beneath a napkin covering a basket, she produced two crescent rolls and placed them on his plate.

  His mouth watered as she slid the meal across to him, along with a bundle of napkin-wrapped utensils. “That’s handy.” He held up the enclosed fork and knife.

  “Jake likes things to be organized,” she said with a smile over her shoulder.

  Justin chuckled under his breath and thought you could add “controlling” to the list, as well.

  He took a bite and savored the meat cooked to perfection. He noted that
Faith had poured him a glass of sweet tea and she leaned against the counter now, sipping her own.

  “You’re not joining me?” he asked.

  She smiled. “You look pretty famished. How is it?”

  “Fantastic,” he mumbled, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. It rivaled Betty’s fare at the diner in End of the Line, and that was saying a lot.

  “Jake prefers I wait on him.” She took a drink of her tea. “I’m sure he won’t be much longer.”

  Justin wanted to ask if it was commonplace for them to eat so late in the evening. He remembered a few times when dinner at home would run late due to their dad, but it never seemed to go past seven. “Well, if he doesn’t get here soon, there may not be any left. This is delicious, Faith.”

  Her smile in return was genuine. “You know, I bought a pie over at the bakery in Inman Park.”

  Justin leaned back, eyeing her. “Seriously, is it a Georgia peach pie?”

  “None other,” she said with a pleased smile.

  “Okay, now you’re just trying to fatten me up.” Justin leaned forward and dug into the parslied potatoes on his plate. He glanced up to see her cheeks cast with a rosy glow. He wondered how often Jake complimented his wife’s cooking.

  “Not at all,” she said. “It’s just nice to see a man with an appetite.”

  Justin slathered butter on a roll as he spoke. “Has my brother gone vegan?”

  “No.” She waved off his comment. “He’s just extremely careful to measure out ounces and carbs. He goes to the gym every Saturday morning with a personal trainer.”

  Justin usually worked out with his players, but lately he’d been getting a workout just helping at the ranch and riding the horses. He washed down the roll with a swallow of rich, hot coffee. The fresh brew calmed him like hot tea did for some. He’d always been able to sleep well even after drinking coffee this late into the evening. “Personal trainer, huh?” He glanced at Faith. “Did he give up drinking, too?” He couldn’t imagine Jake giving up his bourbon, especially with a social event coming up.