Page 16 of Saved from Obsession

I’m trying to reach around Georgia to toss in some oregano, but she turns when I’m not expecting it and steps forward right into my chest. My arms go around her instinctively, catching her before she can stagger backward and possibly hurt herself on the counter. She lets out a surprised gasp and clutches my arms to steady herself.

We both laugh, and Georgia blurts, “Sorry!” at the same time as me.

“No,” I tell her, “it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come up behind you without warning.”

“I should have been paying closer attention.” Then she giggles, the sweetest sound I’ve heard in years. “I knew you were sneaking around behind me, fixing all the stuff I was messing up.”

She tilts her head up to look at me, and that’s when I realize I’m still holding Georgia. Andshit. I don’t want to let her go.

Even though she’s tall, she feels small in my arms. Her breasts are soft swells pressing against me, and her back curves gracefully beneath my hands. The soft scent of oranges and vanilla wafts up from her hair, and I’m struck by the irrational desire to press my mouth to the top of her head.

Every part of her that touches me feels amazing. Which isnotsomething I should be thinking about.

I also shouldn’t be noticing how her nipples are hardening under the fabric of her shirt. Or how her breath quickens, how the pulse at the side of her neck is jumping. And Idefinitelyshouldn’t be thinking about the ache that’s growing for her.

Taking a deep breath, I carefully step away from Georgia, hoping I didn’t make things too awkward between us. She gazes up at me for a moment, her eyes wide and dilated, before turning back to the counter and busying herself with the sauce.

She’s staring at the sauce and stirring it vigorously, and I’m cursing myself for not letting go of her sooner. I should have been giving her more space to begin with instead of standing side-by-side with her in the kitchen. If she were any other client, I’d be sitting off to the side and doing my job instead of enjoying the experience of cooking with her.

But then Georgia relieves me from my mental flogging. She turns back around and shoves the spoon at me. “Since you’re the better cook, you can show me how to do it.” And the teasing smile pulling at her lips tells me she’s not upset in the least.

We manage to finish the rest of the meal prep without any more collisions. I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed about it.

As we’re eating, Georgia looks across the table at me and says, “Who taught you how to cook? Because it’s clear you know what you’re doing. Much more than me, that is.”

I finish chewing and take a sip of water before answering. “My mother did. She didn’t give me lessons, exactly, but she’d have me help in the kitchen. So it kind of rubbed off on me. But she’s a much better cook than I am.”

A smile plays across Georgia’s face. “That’s really nice. Are you close with your parents?” She pauses, the smile dipping. “I mean, if you want to tell me. It’s none of my business, really.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” I take a quick glance around the open living space before continuing. Even though everything seems quiet and safe right now, I never want to let down my guard. “I’m pretty close with them, although I don’t see them as often as I should.”

“I’ve been busy with Blade and Arrow the last few years, so I haven’t taken much time off.” Any time off, really, but I don’t need to get into that. “But my mother keeps telling me to come visit, so I’m going to need to make some time for that soon.”

Like a lightning bolt, a thought strikes me—what would my mother think of Georgia?

Georgia tips her head, her gaze sympathetic. There’s no hint of self-consciousness now. “I’m sure you’ve been really busy with Blade and Arrow. And what you do is so important.”

“It is. But my parents live in Vermont, so it’s not exactly far. I need to stop coming up with excuses.”

“It happens.” Her mouth twists into a little grimace. “I haven’t seen my mom in over a year. I was always busy with work, and then…”

She twirls her fork on the plate, twisting the noodles around it but not taking a bite. “I haven’t told her,” she blurts out. “About the attack, or any of this.”

“Why?” The question comes out before I can stop it, and I could kick myself for being so intrusive.

Georgia answers before I can apologize, giving me a sad little smile. “She has health issues—diabetes—it’s managed, but I don’t want to put the extra stress on her. She’d want to come here, and I wouldn’t be able to let her, which would make her feel worse.”

The idea of Georgia hiding this from her mother doesn’t sit well with me. Maybe it helps her mother in the short term, but what about Georgia? Keeping this kind of thing secret from her family, not having that support… it has to make it even harder for her.

She must see something in my expression because she reaches over to pat my hand. “It’s not that bad. It’s just… she raised me on her own—my dad left when I was little—and she had to struggle a lot to get me what I needed. It was hard on her health, sometimes she didn’t have enough money for insulin. So when I got old enough, I wanted to take the burden off her. That’s the main reason I started modeling, so I could make enough money to help her out and take care of myself.”

“Georgia…” Every time I think she can’t amaze me more, she says or does something to prove me wrong.

“It’sfine, Leo. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s really okay.“ Something flickers in her eyes, turning them sad for a moment. Then she pulls her lips back up into a smile and says, “If we’re done with dinner, I’d really like to play that new game you brought over.”

“Okay, Georgia.” I can’t resist giving her hand a little squeeze. “That sounds like a great idea.”

CHAPTERSIX

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