Georgia On My Mind (3 page)

“Sure thing,” he said, returning her embrace and kissing her forehead. “Your secret is safe with me. I’ll let you get back to work, but we’re right out there if you need us.” He headed for the door.

“Gus?”

Turning back, he raised a white eyebrow.

“Thank you. Tell the others, too.”

“Our pleasure, honey.”

When she was alone, Georgie dropped her head onto her folded arms and took a deep, rattling breath. So embarrassing. Flipping out over trash of all things. What he must think of her. Nathan Caldwell. It was a nice name that suited him. Too bad he’d gone and ruined all her fantasies by being a jerk. Now what would she have to look forward to every day?

A cloud of depression hung over her as she slugged through the rest of the day. Closing the center at the stroke of six, she felt bad—as she did every day—ushering the last few stragglers to the door, knowing many of them wouldn’t see or talk to another living soul until they returned the next morning. They were why she kept coming back every day, despite her overwhelming desire to be anywhere else.

After an hour of paperwork, she walked through the heavy humidity to her car.

Parallel parking in front of the house a short time later, Georgie focused on what to have for dinner and the things she needed to get done that night—including laundry and a list of her mother’s assets for the probate attorney.

She came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a huge arrangement of fragrant, festive lilies sitting on the porch. With a glance around to see if anyone was watching, she went up the stairs, her heart heavy with dread. How predictable of Doug to do something like this. He’d probably had his secretary order the consolation bouquet.
So sorry to dump you,
she imagined the card would say.
Have a nice life. Love, Doug.
She plucked the envelope from among the flowers.

Inside she found a card describing the eco-friendly environment the flowers had been grown in.
That’s odd
.
What does Doug care about that?
Reading the message, her heart skipped a crazy beat. “Sorry I made you cry. Forgive me? Nate Caldwell.”

“Oh,” she gasped, turning to find Jogger Guy, still fresh and polished in his work clothes, standing in the street watching her with his hands jammed into his pockets. Tongue-tied, she stared at him.

He made his way toward her. “Do
not
cry,” he ordered, softening his tone when he added, “Please don’t.”

“I won’t.” The stink of flounder clung to her clothes and hair as he reached the bottom step and looked up at her with startling blue eyes. “How did you know where I live?” He’d seemed so intent during his runs that she was certain he hadn’t paid much attention to them drooling over him from the porch.

“I’m a detective,” he said with a smug expression.

“Oh, so you just, like, tracked me down?” she asked, not sure how she felt about that.

He grinned, causing his tanned, handsome face to crinkle in all the best ways.

Her heart pounded. God, he was
hot
and not as much of a jerk, apparently, as she had thought earlier.

“Actually, I run by here every morning and recognized you.”

“We didn’t think you ever looked,” she said, quickly adding, “not that we’ve discussed you or anything.” She was babbling. She knew it but was powerless to stop it. Why did this particular guy have this particular effect on her?

“I’ve taken an occasional peek. Running in this neighborhood has become
much
more interesting since you ladies moved in. Are you new in town?”

“I grew up here. My roommate Cat is also from here. Tess is from
Connecticut
.”

“Which one has the spiky red hair?”

“That’d be Cat.”

“Wasn’t there another one? I seem to remember four of you.”

“Oh, that was my sister, Ali. She’s gone home to
New York
.” Georgie wondered if he could smell the flounder from where he stood on the sidewalk. Fortunately, the lilies were putting out a powerful perfume that she hoped was strong enough to do battle with the fish stench.

He glanced at the flowers. “So what do you say?”

“About?”

“Forgive me?”

Why do you care?
she wanted to ask but didn’t. “Of course. Thank you for the flowers. They’re gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome. Since I’m not in the practice of making pretty girls cry, I needed to make it up to you.”

Did he just call me pretty? Looking like a frump and stinking like fish?
Georgie ran a self-conscious hand through her rumpled hair and yearned for the shower. “Well, thanks again for the flowers.” She reached down to pick them up off the porch. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Are you free for dinner?”

Stunned, she could only stare at him from behind the huge bouquet while wondering if her mouth was actually hanging open with surprise or if it just felt that way.

“Hello?” He waved a hand. “Georgie?”

“Um, I . . .”

“You what?”

“I stink. Like flounder. Today’s lunch special.”

He tossed his golden head back and laughed. “I can wait while you clean up. But if you don’t want to go out with someone who made you cry, I’d understand.”

Studying him, she remembered the list of things she had planned to do that night, but suddenly none of it was at all appealing when stacked up against him.
Why the hell not? After all, Doug did say we should see other people, right?
And I like what I’m seeing…
“Are you sure you don’t mind waiting?”

He gestured for her to go for it, and she turned toward the house, stopping at the front door. “Do you, um, want to come in?”

“I’ll wait for you out here.” He strolled up the stairs and plopped down on the porch sofa.

Georgie wondered if it was a coincidence that he picked the very spot where she watched for him each morning. “I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” He put his head back and closed his eyes.

She studied him in all his exquisite beauty for a long moment before she went inside, stashed the flowers on a table, and bolted for the stairs, withdrawing her cell phone from her pocket as she went.

    
“
Come on, come on, pick up,
” she whispered as she waited for Cat to answer her cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered.”

“Georgie? What’s wrong?”

Georgie could hear loud music and voices in the background at Club Underground where Cat was the manager. “You’re not going to
believe
who I’m having dinner with tonight.”

“Don’t tell me you finally agreed to go out with that old guy, Walter. That’s just so
wrong
.”

“No, no! The jogger guy.”

“No
way
!” Cat said with a loud whistle. “
No freaking way!
How’d you meet him?”

Georgie gave Cat an abbreviated version of the story. “He’s waiting for me on the porch.”

“Then what the hell are you doing calling me?”

“I was flipping out and needed to tell someone.”

“What’s he look like in clothes?”

“
Amazing,
” Georgie said with a sigh, remembering the way his pale blue shirt had magnified his already glorious eyes as he looked up at her from the street.

“I’m going to need you to take notes—copious notes—so you don’t forget to tell us everything, do you hear? I know I speak for Tess when I say we’ll want every, single, salacious detail.”

“We’re going to dinner, not having sex,” Georgie said dryly as she worked around the phone to peel off her clothes.

“If there’s ever been a time in your life for first-date sex, this is it. Might be just what you need to take your mind off everything.”

“Not happening. I’ve got to go. I told him I’d be quick.”

Cat snorted. “You? Quick in the shower? I hope he’s not hungry.”

“
Bye
, Cat.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Cat said, laughing. “I’m
so
jealous!”

“Hanging up now.”

“Take condoms! There’s a box in my bedside drawer.”

“I’m in the shower. Can’t hear you!” Georgie cut the connection, tossed her phone onto the vanity, and got busy scrubbing off the eau de flounder.

Twenty-five minutes later, she had dried her hair, done her best with a mascara wand and lip liner, tried on almost everything in her closet, and created a complete disaster in her bedroom. Just so she wouldn’t be tempted to take Cat’s advice, she purposely wore underwear that didn’t match—purple polka dot bikini panties and a yellow bra.

She was beginning to sweat by the time she finally tugged on a sundress that could have used ironing, slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops, grabbed her purse, and headed for the stairs before she could change her mind about her clothes—again.

Everything felt wrong and out of whack, she thought with irritation as she clomped down the stairs. A date like this required significant preparation—including a manicure, pedicure and waxing—not half an hour and no consultation on proper attire with women whose opinions she trusted. Feeling like she was at a significant disadvantage and once again bemoaning the loss of her untroubled, stylish life in Atlanta, she pushed open the screen door to the porch and announced, “Ready,” in what she hoped was a breezy, it-was-no-big-deal-to-look-this-good tone.

Sprawled out on the wicker sofa, Nathan was sound asleep
.

Slack with sleep, his face was even more handsome than when he was awake. “Nathan,” she whispered, not wanting to startle him. “
Nathan
.”

He turned away from her into the back of the sofa.

Georgie reached out to shake his shoulder but pulled her hand back at the last minute. Waking him up meant touching him, and she wasn’t sure she was prepared to do that.
Oh, stop being such a nitwit! Just wake him up!
This time when she reached out, her damp palm landed on his shoulder, and she gave a gentle shake.

He startled and looked up at her for a second before his face softened into a grin that made her mouth go dry and her heart beat fast. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Standing up, he stretched and ran his fingers through his hair. “Just what the doctor ordered,” he declared, sending his eyes on a lazy journey from her feet to her face. “Very nice.”

Flustered, she mumbled, “Thank you.”

“Where would you like to go?”

“Wherever you want. I’ve been away for a long time. I have no idea what’s even here anymore.”

He gestured for her to lead the way down the stairs. “Away where?”

“
Atlanta
.” His nearness made it hard for her to form a coherent thought, let alone talk. She couldn’t believe she was on her way out to dinner with oh-so-hot Jogger Guy.
Nathan
, she reminded herself.
Stop thinking of him as Jogger Guy before you make the mistake of calling him that!
“I’ve lived there for twelve years.”

“What took you there?” he asked as they strolled down
Dean Avenue
toward
Lower Thames
.

“My mother and her family are from there.”

“Which is why she named you
Georgia
.”

“Yep.”

“I like it. It suits you.”

“I used to hate it, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

“How did your family end up here?”

“My dad was in the navy. They were stationed here and stayed when he retired. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother in
Georgia
growing up and loved it there, so I went to the
University
of
Georgia
and stayed after.”

“Are you going to make me pull the rest out of you?” he asked with a teasing smile.

She glanced over at him. “The rest of what?”

“Your deal. What kept you in
Atlanta
? What brought you home again? What’re you doing working at the senior center? Come on, give it up.”

“I stayed in
Atlanta
after college because I got a great job at Davidson’s, which is a high-end department store company in the South. I majored in fashion merchandising, and I oversee product placement and displays in four of their
Georgia
stores.”

“Wait. I’m confused. Oversee, present tense. If that’s the case, what were you doing at the center today?”

“I’m doing a favor for my mother.” She decided not to tell him the full story. For one night, she’d like to forget about her mother’s death and the mess her well-ordered life had become in the last few months. “It’s temporary.”

“Oh. That’s disappointing.”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds like you’ll be going back to
Atlanta
at some point.”

“Hopefully soon. My whole life is there.”

“Disappointing.”

They walked down
Dean Avenue
in quiet until he stopped at the intersection with
Lower Thames
. “Is this okay?”

She looked up to see they were standing in front of Scales and Shells. “My mother loves this place,” she said, saddened to realize she had once again used the present tense.

“It’s one of my favorites. Never been?”

“Not in years.”

“It’s all seafood. Is that okay?”

“Fine by me.”

“Well, then.” With a flourish, he opened the door and held it for her.

“Detective!” The exotic, dark-haired hostess greeted Nathan with a saucy smile and a kiss to his cheek that made Georgie wonder if they had a history. “How nice of you to drop by. We thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“Never. Patty, this is Georgie.” He glanced at Georgie with an odd expression. “This is embarrassing. We haven’t gotten around to last names yet.”

As Patty chuckled, Georgie felt her cheeks grow warm. “Georgie Quinn,” she said, reaching out to shake hands with Patty.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve got a table right over here.”

With Nathan’s hand burning a hole in her lower back, Georgie followed Patty to a corner table.

“Georgie hasn’t been here in a long time,” Nathan said. “Can you refresh her memory on how things work around here?”

“I’d love to. All our seafood was brought in today, and in most cases we can tell you who caught your fish or lobster. Feel free to approach the grill,” she said, gesturing to the open kitchen, “with any questions you have for the chef.”

“Thanks, Patty,” Nathan said.

“Sure thing. Cindy will be your server, and she’ll be right over.”

“Georgie Quinn,” Nathan said when they were alone. “I like that.”

She pretended to peruse the menu but was completely aware of him—his nearness, his clean, masculine scent, the rumble of his throat clearing, the play of his long, tanned fingers over the menu. She licked her lips and swallowed as a flush of heat traveled through her. Never before had she had such a strong reaction to a man, especially when he was doing nothing more than studying a menu.

“What looks good to you?” he asked, startling her out of her thoughts.

You
. “Everything. What do you recommend?”

“I love the calamari appetizer, and I always get the mussels marinara.” With a sheepish grin, he added, “I’m in a rut.”

She smiled and closed her menu. “Sounds good to me. Make it two—of the mussels, that is.”

“Do that again.”

“What?”

“Smile.”

Unnerved by the intense gaze he directed her way, Georgie stared back at him.

“Come on,” he cajoled. “One quick smile.”

Hesitantly, she did her best to comply.

“You have dimples!”

“If you say they’re cute, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me?”

His deep, rich laugh engaged his entire face. “Duly noted. But they
are
adorable.”

“That’s perilously close to cute,” she said with what she hoped was a menacing scowl. Apparently, she failed, because he only laughed harder. Something inside her shifted as she watched him, and the uneasy realization that this guy could be big,
big
trouble settled in her gut.

    
Chemistry. Was there any other word for the energy sizzling between them? Georgie thought she’d had it with Doug, but it had only taken an hour with Nathan to show her she had been mistaken.
This
was chemistry, and it took all her willpower not to reach out and touch him.

As he dove into the calamari, he entertained her with stories about growing up as the youngest of the six
Caldwell
brothers. To hear him tell it, he was the only one with a lick of common sense. The others were all artistic—one was a writer, two were artists, another a musician and single father, and the other an architect.

“And then there’s me. The cop who cleans up all their messes.”

“Where do they live?”

“Unfortunately, right here in town,” he said, but his grin told the real story. Clearly, he adored them. “I’m forever getting sucked into their crap.” He speared a loop of calamari and a hot pepper ring, dipped it in the marinara, and offered it to her. “Try this.”

“I’ve never been able to bring myself to eat that,” she said, curling up her nose with distaste.

“Come on.”

He was so convincing that Georgie leaned forward to let him feed her the bite. Her taste buds exploded in response to the tangy flavor, and she couldn’t keep the verdict off her face.

“You gotta love the squid,” he said with a chuckle.

Georgie coughed and reached for her glass of chardonnay. “You
had
to say it, didn’t you?”

“You liked it. There’s plenty. Dig in.”

She held up her hand to say no thank you. “So how did the baby of your family end up taking care of everyone?”

“A very good question and one I’ve never been able to answer. It seems like they’ve been relying on me since I was old enough to walk.” He shrugged. “Just the way it is.”

“What about your parents?”

“They told my brothers it was time for them to be independent and moved to
Florida
about five years ago. Can’t say I blame them.”

“So now it all falls to you.”

He flashed a “what’re you gonna do?” grin and shrugged. “They say you can pick your friends but not your relatives.”

Thinking of her father’s mysterious disappearance at the worst possible time, Georgie smiled in agreement.

“
Mmm
, I sure do
love
those dimples. You really should show them off more often.” He made a solemn face. “You’re very serious most of the time.”

Surprised by his astute assessment, Georgie cleared her throat. “Just lately. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

She was both touched that he had asked and tempted, so tempted, to pour out the whole story to this man who was accustomed to fixing messes. “I’m enjoying the break from it all, to be honest.”

He raised his wineglass in toast to her. “In that case, here’s to you and your night away.”

Georgie touched her glass to his. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Entirely mine.”

Oh no, not entirely
.
Some of it is definitely mine
.

Nathan tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as they left the restaurant.

Georgie was so affected by him she could have melted into him right there on the sidewalk. To take her mind off her rampaging hormones, she forced herself to make conversation. “I’m so full I could burst. Thank you again for dinner.”

“Thank
you
for forgiving me and coming with me.”

“So what do you do for fun when you’re not keeping the streets safe or taking care of your brothers?”

“I buy and sell houses after I renovate them.”

“And when exactly do you sleep?”

He laughed. “Fortunately, I don’t need much. Want to take a walk and see my latest project?”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, she asked, “Is that another way of asking me to come see your etchings?”

“Why, Georgie Quinn, you’re funny.” Stopping, he turned to her and reached for her hand. His hand was calloused but not rough. “Do you think maybe we could just get this out of the way so I can stop thinking about it?”

“What?” she asked, her breath hitching in her throat when she looked up to find his eyes trained on her.

“The good-night kiss.” Without giving her time to process what he had said, he cupped her cheek, leaned in, and slid his lips over hers.

Georgie’s heart pounded so hard she could hear the roar of it echoing in her ears. Her free hand landed on his chest as he tipped his head and delved deeper, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. His taste was an intoxicating mix of wine and spice, and the moan that escaped from her seemed to infuse him with enthusiasm.

Maneuvering them into a doorway, he pressed her back against the wall and devoured her with just the firm pressure of his open mouth against hers, their world reduced to that quiet, dark alcove off the busy street.

Just for tonight, one night away from it all
. She reached up to curl a hand around his neck and leaned into the most carnal kiss of her life
. Oh my God, I’m kissing Jogger Guy, and oh he kisses like a dream—a dirty, sexy, erotic dream
.

Encouraged by her responsiveness, he finally dipped his tongue into her mouth and tightened his arm around her waist.

Georgie clutched his other hand as her tongue dueled with his.
More
. She silently pleaded with him for relief from the aching, burning need that was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

The blast of a car horn startled them. He tore his lips free of hers and kissed a path to her neck. “Why, Georgie Quinn,” he whispered. “I like the way you kiss.” He dragged his tongue along her jaw. “And the way you taste.” With his erection snug against her belly, his hand coasted up over her ribs to cup her breast. “And the way you feel. I
really
like that.”

As her nipple tightened under his thumb, Georgie summoned some control. Shouldn’t she at least
pretend
to protest? But all she could seem to say was, “Nathan.”

“Yes?”

She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. “We should stop this.”

He nibbled on her earlobe and sent a shudder straight through her. “Why?”