Page 50 of Georgia-Blue & Hudson

“That’s all I have for now. I’ll let you know if there’s anything else.”

She glances at me; I feel those all too observant eyes scanning me over under those shades. I’d love to know where she’s looking, though I bet she’s probably just scowling at me laying down the law. Lord knows, she will test me at every turn and not listen one iota to my requests. It’s all for both of our safety. It’s not that I don’t trust myself around her anymore, but I was way too tempted that night in my truck and I can’t let it happen again. The repercussions of Georgia and I finishing off what we started, more than outweighs me letting my guard down like I did that night.

I know I need to keep things above board, even if my body, as well as my mind, is screaming at me to pick things up where we left off. It was screaming the night we kissed, and every night since. The only thing I’ve given into so far is my palm and there’s no way she’s going to know about that.

Things could never work between us. She’s too damned opinionated about every single thing, and I’m just set in my ways, a bit like an old dog. There are no new tricks to be had here. I am who I am.

It hit me hard with Everly when we broke up because I was at the point where I could almost see myself mapping out my life with her and settling down and having kids. That was until she dropped the bombshell she wasn’t ready to settle down, eventhough she told me she was when we got together. Where was there to go from there?

It was right at the time everything started to fall apart. We broke up. Mom was getting sick and I had the worst day of my life on the rodeo when Bucko nearly maimed me. It still pains me to think about it all. A hat trick of events that I really had no control over. Maybe that’s why I reclused so much following my recovery. I shut the world out and didn’t want to know.

It was only the cotton farm and my folks that got me out of my slump and the dark place I was in, and for that I’ll always be grateful. Then, just as I started to get my shit back on track, Mom went downhill. When she passed away it was like everything in my world was ripped away with it. I was fucking mad at the world. Why did my mom have to go? She was the most loving, giving woman I’ve ever met in my life.

She never did anything bad and didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She supported me in everything I wanted to do in life. And her absence around the farm is just so glaringly obvious it makes it all that more hard. But at the same time, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. All my childhood memories are here and I feel her presence on the farm more than anywhere else.

“Wanna know what my rules are?” she says out of nowhere, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Nope.”

She whacks me on the arm, her favorite pastime. “Huds, not fair!”

“Ow, will you stop hitting me whenever you feel like it?”

“If you have dumb rules, then I should be able to have some that at least make some sense.”

“Fine,” I huff. “What are all yoursensiblerules?”

She points a finger at me. “Rule one, don’t go hammering it home all weekend about me behaving when that’s all I ever do!”

I roll my eyes. “No problem.”

“Rule two, don’tyoudrink too much. I don’t want you drunk and disorderly when we’re hamming it up on the dance floor.”

That earns her a look of confusion as my forehead lifts. “Huh?”

She prattles on regardless. “And, please, for God’s sake, keep it in your pants for the weekend. I know there’s women out there that find you attractive for whatever reason, but remember our rooms are interconnecting.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, disregarding her insinuation that she doesn’t find me attractive. “You really think I’d hook up with someone when you’re my plus one?”

“You’remyplus one,” she corrects. “Do you agree to my rules?”

“Did you agree to any of mine?”

She sticks out her hand toward me, right across the middle of the console. I briefly look down at it as I turn off for the airport. “Let’s shake on it,” she says.

“Fine.” I shove my hand into hers and it dwarfs her tiny fingers like usual and we shake. What I’m not ready for is the buzz of electricity that shoots between us and the warmth of her touch. Does she feel it too?

I glance at her again to check. If my calculations are correct, she holds her hand there a little longer than necessary.

“Deal?” she inquires, as one eyebrow lifts higher than the frame of her sunglasses and she finally pulls her hand away from mine.

“Deal.” I know I have exactly two hours to figure out how I’m going to stick to any of this deal making when I can’t stop thinking about the fact we have five whole days together in the sun.

Lord help me now.

13

Georgia

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