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

Page 4

by Amanda McIntyre


  Faith raised her brow and set her glass down as the front door opened. “That and work are the two things that he never measures,” she said, quietly darting a guarded look at Justin. “Hello, honey. Glad to have you home. Justin is here.”

  He heard the muffled sound of urgent whispers just before Jake appeared all smiles around the corner of the kitchen. “Well, look who’s decided to pay his brother a visit. I knew it was you when I saw that damn red truck in the driveway. Thought you’d have gotten that out of your system by now.”

  Justin stood and offered Jake a brief embrace. “Aw, now.” He gave his brother a smartass grin. “I promise not to run over that little BMW of yours.”

  Jake held him at arm’s length and eyed him. “Geez, how long’s it been?”

  Justin shrugged. “Long enough. How are you, anyway?” He playfully punched his brother’s shoulder. Jake had changed physically since he’d seen him last at their wedding. He was leaner, harder looking. He had a competitive glint in his eyes--which, he noted, were rimmed with dark circles. But his smile, that-let-me-sell-you-a-special-deal brilliance, was the same. As was his cantankerous attitude.

  “Did you eat all of my supper?” Jake asked with a lop-sided grin as he lifted the crockpot lid.

  Justin slid back onto the barstool. “Was on my way. Good thing you got here when you did. Your wife cooked an amazing supper.” He expected the two would serve themselves and join him at the island, but instead Jake reached into the cabinet and pulled down a bottle of bourbon. He tipped it into a glass. “Oh, honey, I forgot to mention I picked up a sandwich at that little deli near work. I’m just going to grab a drink and go visit with my long-lost brother outside. It’s a beautiful night. Why don’t you join us after you’ve gotten things cleaned up in here?” Jake kissed Faith’s forehead.

  Justin cringed inside, his heart twisting for his beautiful, capable sister-in-law. “I think I’ll go ahead and finish in here if it’s all the same to you,” Justin said.

  Jake shrugged. “Come on out when you’re through, then.” Jake walked through the French doors leading outside.

  Faith looked at him. “Thank you, I appreciate what you did there. Jake can be an ass sometimes.”

  “Hoped he’d grown out of that a bit,” Justin said, glancing at his sister-in-law.

  Faith braced her hands on the countertop. “He carries a lot of the weight of the company on his shoulders. Sometimes, it gets shoveled out here. I can take it.”

  Justin wanted to say that as much of a workaholic as their father had been, he’d never been disrespectful to his wife—at least, not in front of him and Jake. Justin finished his last bite and grabbed his coffee cup. Standing, he walked around the island and gave Faith a hug. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, thank you.” He looked at her. “You need some help in here?”

  Faith smiled. “Go on. You two have a lot to catch up on. Besides, I’ve got to do some last-minute preparation on a dinner I’m serving here tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, you’re sure?”

  “Really. You’re very sweet to ask, Justin.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  “Hey, I leave the room for a minute and look what happens.” Jake stood in the shadows of the open-ended kitchen. He had a wide smile as he stepped into the light. “Just came to freshen my drink.” He grabbed the bourbon bottle and poured his glass half full. “Did you say your dinner was tomorrow night, honey?” he said over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Good, the reunion committee wanted to meet to go over the last-minute plans.” He slapped Justin on the shoulder. “Come on outside, I want to show you something.”

  Justin walked ahead of his brother.

  “Yeah, Jolie Harris—you remember her, the head cheerleader—boy, has she been chomping at the bit to see you since she heard you coming back.”

  Jake’s words were lost as Justin came to a full stop at the sight before him. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. What had once been a lush backyard with well-maintained, carefully thought-out flower gardens was now swallowed up by an Italian stone floor and a massive arched roof of rough hewn beams. Two rustic outdoor chandeliers hung from crossbeams at opposite ends of the outdoor living area. A brick oven with an outdoor built-in grill graced one end with a massive table for eight. A kidney-shaped pool surrounded by lights lay sparkling beyond.

  He stood there, realizing with sudden clarity that the home he’d grown up in—the old tree he’d once climbed, the yard where he’d pitched his first pup tent—was gone. Nothing now but a memory.

  “What do you think?” Jake plopped down on the wicker and brown leather couch—part of a seating area that would easily accommodate a dozen people.

  “What happened to the yard?” His feet were like clay. Jesus. How their Mom had slaved over those flowers. They were the prize roses of the neighborhood’s spring garden club.

  “Really? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Jake shook his head as he settled back and propped his feet on the glass and wicker coffee table.

  Oh, hell, no. Justin glanced at his brother, aware that any hope he had to confront his brother politely had flown right out the window.

  “Did you ask Mom about taking out her roses?” he asked.

  Jake chuckled. “It’s my house now, Justin. Besides, when she left she said I could do whatever I needed to make it a home for me and Faith.”

  Justin shook his head. “And you most certainly have. I hardly recognize the place.”

  Justin’s gaze scanned the elaborate yard. Their dad would have killed for this set-up, but their mom wouldn’t have it. She wanted an area meant for a family.

  “So, is that all you have to say?” Jake grinned.

  “If this”--he swept a wave across the view--“is your idea of happiness, and Faith’s, then good for you.” He sat his cup down and looked at his very corporate-looking brother, complete with his starched shirt, pressed black slacks, and loosened tie. “I just don’t happen to think a person needs all of this to be successful.”

  Jake raised his brow. “That truck is evidence of that,” he smirked.

  The niggling anger that had been stuffed deep inside Justin began to rise. “Just because I don’t happen to buy into your corporate lifestyle doesn’t mean I’m not happy or successful.” He snatched the bourbon from his surprised brother’s hand, tossing it back in one gulp. He sucked in a deep breath as the burn fueled his resolve. This lavish décor, how he treated his wife, his inability to show any fuckin’ compassion whatsoever for their mom’s years of hard work on her flowers, and more to the point, the fact he’d gone behind his back and never bothered to mention it set his teeth on edge. He paced a few steps, attempting to corral his thoughts as opposed to just beating the smug look off his brother’s face.

  Jake looked at him with a dubious expression, further fanning Justin’s ire. He pointed the empty glass at his brother. “And you know what else, Jake? You need to start treating your wife like a human being instead of one of your office flunkies.”

  Jake’s gaze narrowed. “My marriage is none of your business.”

  “You’re one to talk about interfering in other people’s business.” He shook his head. “What the hell. You just don’t get it, do? Because you’ve always been so damn full of yourself. Hell, man, you don’t even see what you have right in front of you.”

  “Oh, there it is. The high and mighty Saint Justin.” He snorted.

  Something snapped inside him. In two long strides, Justin hauled his brother from the chair, and, with both fists gripping the front of his shirt, pressed his nose to Jake’s. “It’s better than being an asshole.”

  “What the fuck is eating you?” Jake glared at him.

  Justin’s hands trembled with frustration. He searched his brother’s eyes and realized he likely didn’t even remember a thing. “You know, for a long time I held out hope that once you got settled down, you’d remember and apologize for how you tre
ated me—how you treated Georgia.”

  “Georgia?” Jake appeared genuinely surprised. “Are you still carrying around a torch for that girl?”

  Justin dropped his grasp, shoving his brother away. He held up his hands. “I’m going to check in someplace else for the weekend.” He started toward the door.

  Faith blocked his way.

  “Oh, no. You’ll do no such thing. The two of have something you need to get straightened out between you. I’m sick of it. Your mom is sick of it. The whole damn world is sick of it. So”--she pointed at Justin and then her husband, who now stood looking at her—“you two are going to get this resolved this weekend. Or I’m going to drown you both in that lovely pool. And don’t think I won’t.”

  A very contrite Jake smiled and stepped around Justin, putting his arm around his wife’s waist. “I’m sorry, baby. You know how I get when I’m under pressure.”

  She eyed him. “We talked about this, Jacob.”

  He nodded. “We did, darlin’.” Jake glanced over his shoulder. “And we’ll get things straightened out, I promise. Right now, I think we’re all a little tired.”

  “Jake,” came a stern warning from his wife.

  “I promise, baby. It’s going to be fine.” He glanced at Justin. “Right, Justin?

  She tipped her head and studied him, then glanced at Justin. “You’ll stay, promise?”

  Justin sighed and then nodded. “I’m going to take a little drive. If you could give me a spare key--you guys don’t need to wait up.”

  A grin crawled up his brother’s face. “No plans to, bro.” He hugged his wife’s waist and led her away.

  A few moments later, Justin found himself driving past what used to be Georgia Langley’s house. It appeared smaller than he remembered. There were no lights on, but at just past midnight few of the houses had lights on. He pulled up to the curb and his memory played tricks on him, remembering that summer, seeing Georgia in her cut-off shorts, flimsy tank top, and a hooded sweatshirt hooked over one arm as she climbed out of the second-story window and shimmied down the lattice-work trellis from the porch roof. Breathing heavily by the time she opened the door, she’d toss him a sexy smile. “This better be worth it, Justin Reed,” she’d say, sliding into the front seat of the old pickup he’d bought by mucking stalls at the equine ranch a few miles out of town.

  Justin stared into the shadows, swearing he could--even now--smell the scent of her skin, remembering how her sexy smile could arouse him.

  They’d graduated from high school and, for him, at least, college lay on the horizon, but the summer seemed to stretch out long and lazily before them. He’d lost his virginity, as had she, in his truck. He remembered the rain on the roof, remembered how scared he was. Had his condom not torn and she’d not hastily waved off any concern, it might have been more of a magical first time for them both. As it turned out, he came too soon, she wasn’t sure if she’d had an orgasm, and both had been left with the startling realization that she could get pregnant. And, in fact, when she’d told him a few weeks later that she was late, he’d immediately began preparations to forego college, get married, and find a job in his father’s firm.

  That’s when things went south. Next thing he knew, she’d broken up with him with little to no explanation.

  ***

  Justin pulled his gaze from the house and started the truck. He rubbed the ache that had crawled its way into his chest. He’d loved Georgia with every fiber of his youthful heart and still, after all this time, wasn’t sure that he’d ever be completely over her.

  The next night, Jake suggested he drive to the reunion meeting. He’d gotten home later than expected and had hopped in at the last-minute, directing Justin what route to take. The air between them was tense, but hospitable. It was Jake who first broke the silence. “Hey, I’m glad you decided to stay. Oh, wait. Don’t miss our turn. The drive is up there, on the right.”

  Jake pulled into the familiar gravel lot. “You’re not serious?” Justin shot a look at his brother.

  “Hey, if it’s a problem”--Jake pulled out his cell phone--“I can call the others and let them know the meeting place has been changed.”

  He stared at the new green neon sign glowing Langley’s. He hadn’t turned off the ignition yet.

  “Hey, to be fair, I didn’t schedule it here. Jolie Harris did. She said we needed to meet here, because of Georgia.”

  Justin’s gaze snapped to Jake’s. “Georgia?”

  His brother raised a brow. “You don’t read your emails, do you?”

  Justin kicked himself silently for not reading them, but to be fair he’d not even planned on coming until the last minute. This was something he was going to have to suck up and deal with.

  “Georgia is trying to start up a catering business, I guess to help supplement costs at the bar.” Jake shrugged. “Jolie found out and called her because we needed a couple of bars set up at the reception Saturday night. She apparently gave Jolie a good deal. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

  “I’ll bet,” Justin mumbled, pocketing his keys as he climbed out of the truck. And the hits just kept coming. Justin walked a few paces behind his brother as the memory of the exotic wedding and the news shared with him by their drunk friend, Mac, washed over him--news that Jake had been hitting on Georgia at Jake’s bachelor party, and that she’d been seen getting into Jake’s car and heading to a seedy motel down the road with him. He’d been surprised, a little hurt--but what hurt more was Jake’s dismissal of the rumor. That was the reason he’d come back to Atlanta, to set things right with his brother. After the last encounter he’d had with Georgia, he wasn’t prepared to face her again.

  Chewing the inside of his lip, he followed Jake inside, weaving through an array of empty tables to the far back where several of his classmates sat at a large, round table.

  Jake took a seat next to Mac, who smiled and stood, shaking both Justin’s and Jake’s hands.

  Madeline Hurt--Maddie for short--was busy peering over a list, her red reading glasses perched at the end of her nose. She glanced up and smiled, holding up her arm to embrace Justin as he leaned down to accept her hug.

  “Justin, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you could make it,” she said in the same authoritative tone she’d always possessed.

  “Middle school principal, right?” He smiled as he sat down between her and an empty chair.

  Her dark eyes twinkled as her smile widened. “We’ve probably got a lot of war stories we could share, eh?”

  “Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn’t Justin Reed, in the flesh.”

  Justin saw a bare arm set an appletini on the table and turned just in time to get a face full of cleavage as Jolie leaned down and draped her arms around his neck. She wiggled her breasts against him in a far-too-intimate hug.

  “I was afraid you’d be a no-show.” She kissed his cheek and pulled the empty chair closer to his before sitting down. “It’s so damn good to see you, darlin’.”

  Her pure southern drawl slid over him. His gaze met Jake’s who sat across the table, his brother’s smile saying, “I told you so.”

  “Good to see you, Jolie.” Justin grabbed her hand, now firmly gripping his thigh, and brought it to his lips.

  “Oh, my, chivalry does still exist.” She giggled with a little flourish of her hand.

  Justin glanced around the bar and noted it was quiet for a Thursday night. Tank—who appeared as big and as formidable as he remembered--stood next to a young man behind the bar, tutoring him in using the tap.

  “Well, hey, I’m parched.” He stood and squeezed himself between his chair and Jolie’s. “Anyone need anything?” he asked, pointing to those around the table. His gaze came to rest on Jolie, whose eyes traveled from the lateral view of his crotch to his eyes. She turned her face up, smiling through ruby red lips.

  “I’ve already had two of these little gems tonight.” She eyed her peers. “I may need one of you gentlemen to take me home tonight if I
have one more.” She slid a look back at Justin. “Besides, what I’d like they don’t serve at a bar.”

  Justin caught Mac’s muffled chuckle. Jake just turned his head to hide his grin.

  “I’ll take that as a no, then,” he said, grateful for the opportunity to put some distance between him and Jolie’s tentacles. He walked up to the bar, eyeing the selections posted, when his eye caught a movement. He saw Georgia walk in through the back hallway and sit down at the office desk. His heart stopped, while everything else—fueled from his last memories of them together--came to full alert.

  “What’ll it be?”

  His gaze clung to the way her dark hair, longer than he remembered, spilled over her shoulders. She wore a gauzy white tunic with a lacy camisole underneath and faded blue jeans that encased her long legs like a well-worn glove.

  “Sir? Is everything okay?”

  Justin was brought from his trance by the new bartender’s insistence. “I’m sorry, yeah, what craft beers do you have?”

  “Got Zeke, if you like pale. Good hop. A couple of the darker beers. And an Irish stout we call Eventide, if you prefer a malt.”

  “I’ll try the Eventide, thanks.” Justin fumbled in his wallet as he kept one eye on Georgia seated behind the desk, engaged in a phone conversation that appeared to be challenging. She cradled her forehead in her palm as she shook her head. Maybe it was a problem at home. Maybe with her husband.

  He fished for a ten and laid the money on the counter just as she finished her conversation. His gaze lingered on the soft alabaster curve of her throat as she leaned her head back and stretched her arms over her head. The young woman he’d fallen in love with back in high school had been replaced by a woman even more beautiful than the last time he saw her.

  “Here you go, man. Let me know what you think,” the bartender said.

  “Thanks.” Justin took the beer. He glanced up and across the space separating him from Georgia and met her gaze. His grip tightened on the glass, fearful he might drop it. He should just walk back there and say hello. It’d be the decent thing to do.

 

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