He kissed her with pure sensuality. Soft, wet and slow. “Don’t think for a second you’re not adventurous. That you’re anything less than f**kin’ perfect.”

And that’s when she fell in love with him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Georgia Hotchkiss was his girlfriend.

For real.

He grinned at himself in the mirror as he shaved, repeating the phrase out loud. “Georgia Hotchkiss is my girlfriend.”

And if that didn’t beat all.

They’d been damn near inseparable over the last three weeks. Georgia’s job responsibilities had tapered off, leaving her with free time. Time she preferred to spend with him. If she stayed overnight, she’d get up at dawn to help him with chores. Then they’d have the rest of the day together.

She loved exploring the ranch on the back of his ATV. He’d always figured she was a girly girl, but she didn’t mind getting dirty.

He’d taught her how to ride a dirt bike, but his heart had almost stopped when she’d wiped out and skidded across the ground. By the time Tell had removed her helmet and protective gear, she’d regained her breath. She batted at his hands when he insisted on checking for broken bones and bruises. The damn stubborn woman had climbed back on the bike, determined to make the tight corner. Which she did.

Georgia had been so pumped full of adrenaline, she’d f**ked him like a wild cat on the hood of his truck. And that’d been a sight to behold—her beautiful skin glowing as the sun’s last rays kissed her damp flesh. Her lips open as she cried out in passion. Her nails digging into his forearms as he made love to the woman who’d captured his interest like no other. A woman he’d started to need like a drug. She was a painkiller, a mood enhancer, an aphrodisiac all wrapped up in one tiny, potent package.

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If Tell really thought about it, he might consider that feeling was love. But never having been in love before, he wasn’t sure.

He scraped another layer of whiskers from his face. Georgia’s skin was so delicate he had to shave twice a day or he’d leave beard burn on her skin. He flashed back to the day last week she’d forbidden him to shave because she wanted to see those marks on the inside of her thighs and her br**sts.

She’d been awful damn squirmy at dart league that night. But knocking back shots with Roxanne and Leah dulled the discomfort, because he’d looked over to see her performing a herkie off the end of the bar.

Little Miss Georgia had gotten her butt paddled good for that one.

And she’d loved every minute of it.

Steam fogged up the bathroom mirror and he swiped it clean. Just thinking about her raised his temperature. Sex with Georgia? Beyond spectacular. More exciting, spontaneous, comforting, fun and hot than he’d ever dreamed it could be with one woman. But as much as he lived to get that sexy woman nekkid, the times they spent out of bed were beyond ordinary too. He’d never imagined she’d be so insightful. She didn’t expect him to always slap on a happy face. If he had a shit day, he didn’t have to hide it. But his shit days were few and far between recently. And he credited her for that.

She fit in with his friends. Being part of a couple bridged a gap he hadn’t known existed. Almost like his buddies took him more seriously since he’d settled into a steady relationship. Which was ironic, since he found himself wanting to stay home with her more than going out on the town. Over the years he’d secretly sneered at his cousins and married buddies and their seemingly limited amount of free time. But now he understood why the guys wanted to stay home with their wives.

Even Brandt and Jessie encouraged Tell to bring Georgia over for supper. Her bout of shyness vanished when she held baby Tucker, and she and Jessie chatted like old friends. Tell was fascinated by how babies pulled women together. When he started to imagine a black-haired little boy with Georgia’s pale-blue eyes and his smile, he figured Dalton would whap him in the head for thinking like a girl.

He turned the taps on and sluiced away the shaving cream. As he patted his face dry, he tried to remember how he’d agreed to help chaperone the dance put on by the Sundance High School Booster Club. Right. Georgia. After assisting him with rodeo club fundraisers and helping the cheerleaders, she’d had the great idea to bring together all the school clubs for one fun event. Everyone was excited and Georgia was creating positive buzz.

The only sour note was their parental situations. Georgia’s mother had started pressuring her to work on rebuilding a relationship with her father. Tell couldn’t fault Georgia for her trepidation. Only a person who’d suffered through family dramas understood that forgiveness wasn’t automatically given. Sometimes it wasn’t earned. And sometimes letting go was the best option. Not politically correct, but often necessary.

Not that Tell’s situation with his father had changed much. Casper only called to rail on Tell about something. And he hadn’t heard from his mother beyond a couple of short texts. She must not have needed a baby-sitter.

As far as Tell was concerned, out of sight, out of mind was the best way to deal with his folks. He couldn’t change them or their behavior, so why even try now? He was beyond pretending it would make a difference. The only control he had in the situation was not letting his past ruin his future.

A future he hoped to have with Georgia.

After he’d tried her phone for the twentieth time and the call was immediately kicked over to voice mail for the twentieth time, he drove into town. His panic increased when he pulled up in front of her house and saw her car parked in the drive. What if she was sick? She didn’t answer his knock.

Tempting to break in, but he found a space between the fence and a lilac bush that allowed him to enter the backyard. He hoped she’d just lost track of time and was sitting on the swing, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on this mild summer day.

No sign of her.

Tell tried the handle on the back door and discovered it was unlocked. He stepped into the kitchen and called out, “Georgia?”

Silence.

The coffee pot was half full of cold coffee. One bowl, one spoon and one cup were in the sink. Just as he decided to check her bedroom upstairs, he noticed her cell phone on the table. Right next to a calendar.

He didn’t pay much attention to dates, and most days he’d be hard-pressed to answer if someone asked him the actual date. He saw that she’d written in events for all the days of this month except for one. This day, the third of August, was devoid of any marks.

A punch of sadness hit him as well as guilt.




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