Page 80 of Any Luck at All

Of course they’d let her out. It wasn’t like she’d murdered anyone. No, she’d just murdered art.

What in the world had Adalia been thinking? Her baby sister could be flighty, but other than smoking pot in high school and college, she’d never done anything illegal. Georgie couldn’t imagine what had driven her to destroy art. Adalia was a creator. She preserved art. Revered and respected it. Not destroyed it.

Her stomach was in knots and her anxiety was through the roof. She felt lost and helpless, desperate for someone to help her, to hold her hand through this. No, not just someone.Him.

She told herself it was wrong to disturb him in the middle of the night. Still, she didn’t want to be alone, and she and River had agreed to be friends. They’d even shaken on it. Wasn’t this what friends were for? Being there in good times and bad?

She threw on a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt, then tossed her cosmetics bag and an extra business skirt and blouse into her already packed carry-on. Bag in hand, she headed out of the hotel room before she could change her mind.

She nearly turned around multiple times during the drive. This was crazy. It was two a.m. She couldn’t just show up on River’s doorstep, but all the logic in the world couldn’t quell the overwhelming need she felt to be with him. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d held her at the cemetery—how his comfort and his strength had seeped into her. How she craved more of it.

Did that make her weak? Or needy? But she told herself that if she were back in Boston, she’d call Meredith, albeit not until morning, but still…

When she pulled up to his building, she drove around looking for a parking space. But just as she started contemplating whether the lack of a spot was a sign, one opened up a few feet ahead. The timing gave her chills, and Georgie wondered if she’d spent too much time with Dottie. Steeling her resolve, she parked and grabbed her bag out of the back seat so she could change before heading to the airport in a few hours. As she walked to his front door, she realized it was presumptuous to assume she could just stay there, but she knocked anyway. She heard yipping first, then the sound of the lock clicking over.

Play this cool. Don’t fall apart.

When he opened the door, bleary-eyed and with tousled hair, her resolve to not fall apart evaporated, and she threw herself at him.

He instantly enveloped her in his arms, holding her tight. “Georgie. What’s wrong?”

Tears stung her eyes.Relievedtears. It felt so right to be in his arms, like she’d been created to fit River Reeves’s body.

“Georgie?”

She heard the panic in his voice and felt foolish. She knew she should pull away from him, yet she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. “It’s Adalia.” Then she realized that he was probably assuming the worst. “She’s not hurt. But it’s pretty bad.”

He loosened his hold and looked down at her, waiting for her to explain.

“She was arrested for vandalizing a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of art. Because of the high value, it’s a felony.”

Shock covered his face, and she briefly wondered what he thought of her and her family now. If word got out, it would tarnish the Buchanan family reputation.

Oh God. Would it hurt the brewery too?

He looked past her and saw her bag. Releasing her, he fetched it, then brought it inside and shut the door, engaging the deadbolt.

For some reason, knowing she was locked inside with River made her feel more comforted, as though nothing could happen to her here. It was a ridiculous, fanciful thought—Georgie didn’t do fanciful, yet there it was anyway, and since she was letting herself be a stereotypical clingy woman, she might as well go for broke.

Was this how it had started with her mom? One concession at a time?

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” River said, wrapping his arm around her back and leading her to the sofa.

A throw lay in a heap at one end, and Hops leaped up next to it, looking up at her as if to accuse her of not petting him.

Once she sat down, River picked up the puppy and handed him to her. “Here. Maisie says there are very few emotional pains that cuddling puppies can’t ease or cure.”

She took the furball, and Hops snuggled into her chest. “Maisie is a wise woman.”

“Usually…” He grabbed the electric kettle from the kitchen counter and started to fill it up with water. “Tell me everything.”

So she did, starting with Adalia’s strange behavior and the fact that she and Lee, who typically weren’t close, had become chummy. But it was Georgie whom Adalia had called from the police precinct, and she’d asked to come back to Asheville with her too.

River listened attentively, and by the time she’d finished, he’d carried two mugs of tea into the living room, carefully handing her one and keeping the other as he sat in an armchair next to the sofa.

Georgie felt a prick of disappointment, but sitting apart was probably a good idea. The need she felt to feel him close to her, by her side, told her that.

“So, first of all,” River said, leaning forward, the mug still in his hand, “if Adalia wants to come to Asheville, you can skip flying to New York and just have her catch a flight here. She can get released from jail, pack a bag or two, and head straight to the airport.”

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