“So do I,” I grunt, wrapping one arm around Georgia’s waist, the other gliding through her curls, memorizing the way she feels wrapped up in my arms. “Who the fuck was that?”
“That would be Clint Cooper of Cooper Ridge,” Hazel says, rolling her eyes so hard they might stick. Her gaze flicks to Griffin, then back to me. “Tiny-dicked ego maniac, according to your girl.”
My brows lift, but I don’t correct her. Because she’s right.
Don’t know how the hell I’m gonna pull it off, but she’s mine.
I just have to prove it to her—when she’s sober.
Georgia shifts again, murmuring something incoherent against my chest. I lean down, catching the words “big pecs”and“leather” and smother a laugh in her curls.
But then she sways hard, and my smile dies.
“I’m takin’ her home,” I say, chin jerking toward my sisters and their friends. “Can you handle the girls? Make sure they all get home safe?”
“Sure thing,” Wilder says, not even looking up—too busy drooling over Emmy.
“He’s talkin’ to me, dickwad.” Griff scoffs and turns to me.“No worries, man. I’ll wrangle the herd. You just take care of…” His gaze drops to Georgia, who chooses that exact moment to lift her head.
“I’m tired,” she says, blinking up at me. “Andstarving.”
“Okay, darlin’,” I murmur, ducking down until my lips brush her hair. “Let’s get you home.”
“Don’t remember where I live.”
“That’s alright.” Wasn’t taking her home anyway. “You drive here?”
Georgia nods, tugging her keys from her purse. She holds them up, blinking at me with the kind of soft, sleepy look that hits me dead center.
“Will you drive?” she whispers. It’s the hope in her voice that damn near drops me to my knees. The vulnerability. The trust. Like she knows I’ll keep her safe without her ever having to ask.
“’Course,” I mutter, throat tight as I glance over my shoulder. “Griff—take my truck.”
I toss him my keys and don’t wait for a reply—just snag hers and guide her toward the door, one hand wrapped around her waist like she’s already mine to protect.
Georgia stays close the whole way out, her thumb tucked into my belt beneath the back of my shirt, her warm palm ghosting my skin. She doesn’t stumble, but I keep my arm locked aroundher anyway. Not because she needs it, but because I need her close after what happened tonight.
My eyes sweep the parking lot, scanning every shadow, every group of stragglers still loitering by the bar. Clint Cooper and his cronies are long gone, but tension still simmers in my spine.
“Where’d you park?” I ask, slowing to a stop. “Don’t see the Beamer anywhere.”
She giggles and points to an older black Jeep parked beside my truck. “Right there.”
I blink. Hard. “Darlin’, that’s not your—”
“It is,” she huffs, pulling away from me and beelining for it before I can snatch her back.
“I never wanted that stupid car,” she says dreamily, brushing her palm across the paint.
“Tried to lease one of these, but they were all out. Only thing they had left was that fancy BMW.” She turns, eyes heavy but shining, and grins up at me. “Had a hell of a sound system, though.”
Chuckling, I thumb the fob. Sure enough, the Jeep chirps and unlocks. I open the passenger door, ready to help, but she beats me to it, reaching for the frame like she’s gonna climb in herself.
Not on my damn watch.
Before she can even lift a leg, I catch her by the hips and lift her clean off the ground.
She lets out the cutest little squeal I’ve ever heard. “What the fuck, Kade!”
