“Deal.”
Without pausing, I lift her onto the dresser, smiling at the adorable squeal that fills my ears. Her long skirt has a ruffled slit like the one she wore to the grocery store, and I use it to my advantage, stepping between her thighs.
“I can’t think like this,” she whispers. “When you’re touching me. I…” Her tongue slides across that damn lip again, making my whole body thrum. “I can’t think when you’re this close. I lost my mind the last time you… we… I can’t do that again.”
“Don’t think then, just tell me what happened.”
Her eyes flick between mine, something vulnerable and unsure hidden behind thick lashes and irises a shade of green I’ll never be able to name. I slip my hands from her ribs to her back,trailing my palms across her skin. She’s covered in goosebumps, but she leans into the touch, just as starving for the contact as I am.
“I…” She swallows, but doesn’t look away. “Your mom asked me to help her get all this ready. My job was this room.”
“You did all this?” My gaze swivels around the beautiful room, taking it in with new eyes.
“Yeah,” she breathes, smiling a little. “It was fun.”
I stare at the massive rainbow mural painted over Aurora’s new bed, and my mind goes back to our talk on Dusty.
She loves rainbows, and she painted one for my girl.
“Wait, you were the one sending me on wild errands for this room?” I ask, smirking. “Thought it was my mom.”
Georgia's cheeks go bright red, freckles disappearing one by one. “The rainbow and bookshelves are for Aurora. The ridiculous errands were for me.”
I blink, then bark out a laugh. “Secretly getting revenge on me, darlin’?”
Georgia shrugs, a hint of a smile. “I’m resourceful. People say it’s one of my better qualities.”
Cocking a brow, I murmur, “Thought it was your rabid hyena singing voice.”
She pinches my forearms, face scrunched up in anger I find way too damn appealing. “You’re rude.”
“And you’re changing the subject again.”
After a long minute of glaring me down, she sighs, hands dropping with her gaze. They fall to her lap and bundle in the fabric of her skirt. The immediate reaction of needing to have her touch back should alarm me, but the sadness in her eyes reroutes my brain.
“Your family is wonderful,” she finally whispers, the words so low I have to strain to hear them. “They’ve been nothing but niceto me from the very beginning. And they love you, Kade. God, your mom loves you so damn much.”
My hands still on her back for a beat, but I shake it off. Moment’s not about me.
“They wanted to do this big, wonderfully kind thing for you, for Aurora, and they haven’t even met her yet. They’re just so sure already that she’s one of them, an Archer—no questions asked, past and the situation that led you here, be damned.”
“And that makes you sad?” I murmur, heart twisting with every word. She shrugs and I let out a low breath, bending to catch her eyes. “Darlin’, you gotta help me out here. I can’t fix a problem I can’t see, and Christ, much as I wish I could get rid of my family sometimes, I’m not sure during a surprise housewarming party they threw me is the right time.”
Georgia giggles, this soft, sweet sound, but it quickly turns into a sob. I tug her into me, wrapping her in my arms. She buries herself in my chest, and I do all I can to ignore the way she fits so perfectly against me. I slip a hand free from her top and cup the back of her head, keeping her right where I want her while she cries.
Her fingers tangle in the front of my shirt, and soon enough, I can feel her tears seeping through the material. I don’t know what the fuck she’s working through, but the sound of it breaks my already confused heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, sinking impossibly closer until there’s not an inch of space between us. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”
“Hey,” I say, rocking her, fingers sifting through her curls. The smell of her shampoo invades my senses, all floral and sweet and addictive as hell. “Stop that. Not a damn thing you need to apologize for. I’ve got you. You can let go.”
“I can’t, though.” Sitting up, she stares at me with so much pain, my breath catches. “Don’t you see that? I can’t let go. Not here, not with you, not in this town.”
Shaking my head, I tighten my grip in her hair and draw our foreheads together, breathing her in. “You can.”
“Kade…”
“Georgia,” I say, voice thick and demanding. “Breathe, baby. Breathe through the hurt and everything that scares you. Breathe through all the shit in your brain telling you this is wrong or bad. Breathe through it with me, and lay your broken pieces on my shoulders. I swear to God, I can carry ’em.”
