Page 64 of Georgia-Blue & Hudson

I give her a lopsided grin. “This old man can keep up with you any day of the week, shortie.”

“Ha-ha. You know it’s not my fault I didn’t inherit my brother's vertical capabilities.”

“That’s true. Remember when you stood in that pile of manure when you were a kid?” I chuckle at the memory.

“Yes, and I remember you tellin’ me that good things come in smaller packages?”

I’d forgotten that. “Then I had to tell your mom that you were helpin’ me with the horses so you didn’t get in trouble for havin’ manure all over you. In fact, she scolded me for it.”

Georgia chuckles. “Such a southern gentleman.”

Nope. It only reminds me once more that I’ve known her for such a long time. Of course, I’ve only ever looked at her as like a little sister all those years ago. I was out on the road so much I barely spent any time in Stoney Creek. But the Bassett’s have all been like a second family to me. Especially after Mom died.

My face drops and I feel Georgia’s hand on my cheek. “Hey.”

I look up.

She frowns. “Are you sad?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to put a damper on the evening. I just don’t know how to tell her what I’m feeling, and that I shouldn’t be feeling it. Not with her.

“How could I be sad when you’re here?”

She shakes her stuff and pulls a funny face, I laugh, my feet barely keeping up with hers. The one thing about country music, is it sure as shit gets the heart rate going.

Whatever happens tonight, I know it’s been one of the best nights of my life, and it isn’t over yet.

17

Georgia

Another round of drinks or two later, several more spins around the room, including a slow dance where Hudson wraps his arms around me and I’m buzzing like a honeybee. Feeling him up close like this doesn’t just stir the hornet's nest, it sets it on fire.

I don’t want him to go. I don’t want him to say goodnight, but here we are on the landing of the hotel, looking down over the marble foyer, watching the guests leave.

“You know I’m impressed with those hips,” I tease. “I’m surprised you know how to move them these days.”

“Funny. You know how many fires I almost had to put out.”

“Little ol’ me?” I flutter my eyelashes.

He rolls his eyes. “Little ol’ you is quite the hurricane,Princess.I think some of those moves are considered X-rated.”

“It’s all in the interpretation.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, on my Only Fans account…”

“What?”

“My Only Fans. Don’t worry, it’s a foot fetish site.”

His eyes bug out. “You do not have an Only Fans.”

“For feet, yeah I do. Did you know people pay good money for images of people’s feet stuck in apple pies, and covered in whipped cream?”

He stares at me, then he doubles over and laughs. I watch him, laughing at his amusement, and then it’s all on.

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