Page 23 of Georgia On My Mind (Southern Promises)

Chapter Thirteen

Hart was up earlier than usual, getting ready for his day with Gia. Thankful that the sun was out, he did a quick run through the empty park before stopping by the local market to pick up some last-minute items on his list. Only a few shoppers were in the small store that was within walking distance of the condo, allowing him to streamline his errand with efficiency. An elderly cashier offered him a smile as she rang up his purchases.

“Looks like a lovely morning for you and someone special,” she said, surprising him. Was it that obvious?

Cocking his head with chagrin, he ran his hand through his sweaty hair. The conveyor belt held an assortment of items that could be deemed as romantic—expensive cheeses and fancy crackers, plump green grapes and a pint of strawberries, a box of chocolates and a giant, fresh bouquet of gorgeous red roses all insinuating a romantic rendezvous. What the cashier didn’t know was he had already been to the store the previous day three separate times for special brunch and dinner ingredients.

“Uhh, yes. A few last-minute items before company arrives.” He pulled out a credit card from the small pocket of his running shorts. “How much do I owe you?”

Gia was due to arrive around ten that morning. Traffic would be minimal due to the large churches in his neighborhood holding services during that time. Surveying the condo once more, he went to the arrangement of red roses he had placed on his sister’s dining room table that looked peculiarly pretentious. He grabbed the clear vase and set it on the sideboard instead, opting for a single pillar candle to grace the center of the table. Satisfied, the aroma of quiche baking in the oven filtered into the room, making his stomach growl.

After a quick shower, he set the food out buffet style and glanced at his watch. In ten minutes the blue-eyed beauty would be there. Pulling out a large pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice, he quickly prepared two mimosas, pouring a generous dose of expensive champagne and juice into crystal flutes. As the top of the glasses fizzed with fancy bubbles, the doorbell rang. He carefully grabbed one of the flutes and trotted to the door. When he opened it, Gia was standing on the stoop with a shy smile on her face, looking like a million bucks.

“Good morning!” He smiled and offered her the drink.

Her face lit up in the morning light. “Good morning, Hart. Wow. For me?”

“Yes. Please come in.” He ushered her inside, excited she had finally arrived. He had told her they’d be hanging out at his place for the day and to dress casually. She had followed his instructions and dressed in loose, drawstring pants and an oversized, soft sweater that hung sexily off one shoulder. The girl didn’t have a clue how absurdly and naturally beautiful she was.

She stopped in the foyer, taking a sip of the mimosa. “Mmmm! What a great way to start my only day off.”

“I was hoping you might like champagne and orange juice.”

“Who doesn’t?” Inhaling deeply, she looked around. “And what is that unbelievable smell coming from your kitchen?”

He watched her walk into the small space and investigate her surroundings. The quiche was still steaming, looking like he had just pulled it out of the oven from where it sat on the buffet Hart had set up. He had cut up the expensive cheese and placed it on a platter along with the crackers and grapes. She looked up at him with flushed cheeks. “You made brunch?”

“I did.”

She placed her flute on the counter before wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” she said softly. Yep, he had just scored. Even though the quiche wasn’t homemade and bought ready-made from the store, at that moment, he was thankful for his Southern mother and sister for teaching him the ways to a woman’s heart.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he replied, gripping her body. The long wait was over, and she was finally in his arms.

She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him with big blue eyes. “Starving.”

“Well, let’s get you some sustenance for our day ahead.”

The two of them sat on his sister’s quaint back porch that overlooked a wooded area of the condo complex. Small, green buds dotted the tips of the oak and elm trees while the dogwood branches clung tightly to white and pink flowers. Hart had topped-off their drinks, and the two of them were animated and ravenous while eating the delicious meal. It thrilled him to watch Gia go back inside for a second helping, and when they were both finished, he cleared the small table and brought out the pitcher of juice and the bottle of champagne.

“Might as well finish this,” he said, refilling her flute.

“Hart, this was divine. Thank you so much for going to all the trouble.”

“No trouble at all, Gia. It’s my pleasure.”

Relaxed and at ease, she lay her dark head back on the seat while staring out at the scenery. A lazy smile blossomed across her face as she fingered the top of her glass. “It must be nice to live in this area. It’s so peaceful and calm.”

Hart rested an ankle on his knee. “It’s very nice. I’m lucky to have a sister who took me in when I needed help.” He took a big gulp of his drink, trying to muster the courage to ask her a few questions, her birth name at the forefront of his mind. “Gia?”

“Hmm?” she purred.

“Is your name short for ‘Georgia’?”

The smile on her face faded, and she tensed. “Why would you ask me that?” she asked softly, avoiding his eyes.

Hart shifted in his seat, leaning toward her. “I met your landlord, Ed Smith, the same day I stopped by your studio. When I told him I was a friend of yours, he called you, ‘Georgia.’ When I asked him about it, he said it was your birth name. No big deal. I was just curious.”

He observed Gia deeply inhale before she sat up perfectly straight, gripping her hands in her lap. She waited half a minute before she spoke but still wouldn’t look him in the eye.

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