Page 4 of Forged By Sacrifice

Eli grabbed the knife from her, set it down on the counter, and wrapped her in a hug.

“I’m saving it for our honeymoon.” He kissed her, and she melted. I normally would have harassed them both to no end, but these days, I always seemed to be eyeing the happy couples in my life with a level of longing that I’d never felt before.

“We’re not getting married until October,” Ava said.

“And I have honeymoon plans.”

“You do? Don’t you think I should know these things? I’ll have to arrange for Andy and Lacey to cover the bar.”

“Already done,” he told her.

“You’re impossible,” she snipped back, but it was with a smile on her face.

Movement at the corner of my eye brought me to my feet. Georgie. My breath got stuck somewhere between my lungs and my throat as I got a better look at her. Her hair was dark, but more espresso-colored than black, and she had a single white streak about the width of my pinkie finger going through it. Her hair hung down around her shoulders in a beach-tousled look. Her eyes were green today, like a green-apple kind of green. It matched the flowered, off-the-shoulder, floaty dress she wore, showcasing sun-kissed skin and baring cleavage that made it hard for me to look away.

I loved that I didn’t have to almost bend myself in half to look down at her. I was six-four. And most of the time, the girls I was with were almost a foot shorter than me, which complicated anything that happened between our bodies. Georgie was—at the most—five inches shorter, standing there barefoot.

I was staring. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. I’d had this reaction every damn time I’d met her. Silent. Stalker-like. It was ridiculous.

“Mac, do you remember my friend Georgie from New York?” Ava asked.

“I do,” I managed to breathe out, holding out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Georgie smiled, and I swear to God, there were thunderclouds rolling somewhere when she did it, because that smile was one you were unable to ignore, just like a thunderstorm. The smile lit up her face that was all graceful lines. Smooth. Silky.

“You’re the one that I wasn’t supposed to be the same again after meeting, right?” Georgie’s voice was light. Graceful, just like her, but infused with a confidence that spoke of life and experience. What hit me harder than her voice was the fact that she remembered our initial meeting, almost word for word, as much as I did.

She put her long-fingered hand into mine, and I shook it, trying desperately not to run my fingers along the smooth palm and embarrass myself. If her voice had been a thundercloud, her touch was lightning. The kind that left your heart stopped and your skin tingling.

“And have you?” I asked.

She frowned. “Have I?”

“Been the same?”

She laughed, running a hand through her hair, but didn’t answer. I wanted to think that it was a good sign. That somewhere behind those color-changing eyes, she was as stunned and as glad to see me as I was to see her.

Georgie

BROKEN & BEAUTIFUL

“Can someone just hold me?

Don't fix me, don't try to change a thing.

Can someone just know me?

'Cause underneath, I'm broken, and it's beautiful.”

Performed by Kelly Clarkson

Written by Moore / Mcdaid / Mac

Seeing Mac-Macauley after two years of not seeing him, hit me hard. Almost as hard as when I’d seen him the first two times back in New York City. He was a tall, dark-haired beauty. The kind of gorgeousness that would have fit right in with my boyfriend—or rather, ex-boyfriend—Jared, and all his male model friends. It would also have fit right in with the hotshot finance guys who also frequented my salon and were harder to shake off than the ego-filled models.

Mac was several inches taller than Jared and much broader.

His blue eyes flashed at me, and all I could see were warning signs. Signs that said to stay away even though my body almost vibrated with energy when he shook my hand. I’d learned a long time ago not to trust my senses. Bodies were notorious for leading you astray. And I didn’t need astray right now.

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