Christ, things have changed.
And they’ve changed fast.
My house. My job. My whole damn future.
Just a few months ago, I was living in a shell, detached and half dead on the inside.
Now, I’m waking up in a home I’m building from the ground up, waiting on the arrival of a little girl who’s about to change my life. Aurora could be here as soon as today, depending on how fast the paperwork from Ethel’s office is cleared. I emailed it back last week as soon as we hung up, and she promised once everything was processed, she'd pick Aurora up and bring her to me.
If Georgia hadn’t been here this weekend, distracting me, making me laugh and groan and lose my fuckin’ mind in all the best ways, I probably would’ve driven myself insane waiting.
And Georgia...
Tried to go slow. Tried to keep my thoughts to myself and my mouth shut, but then she was sick and in my house, wearin’ nothing but my shirt, a weary expression and bare feet, and I was done for.
Couldn’t stand to see her hurting, or upset. Couldn’t stand the thought of her being unwell because of something I did, even if she swore up and down it wasn’t my fault.
And once I started taking care of her—really taking care of her—there was no going back. It wasn’t just about making her feel better. It was about making sure she never had to do it alone again.
Didn’t plan it. Didn’t even see it happening.
But somewhere between blow drying her hair and holding her while she slept… she becameeverything.
She doesn’t even realize how fast she’s become the brightest part of my day.
It’s terrifying.
And it’s the most alive I’ve felt in years.
Shaking my head, I drag my gaze across the living room. My brows crash together, pulse ticking up. Everything’s as we left it last night—blanket tossed over the couch, pillows askew from where she passed out on top of me while we watched some old sitcom, but it’s too quiet.
Standing up with a groan, I stretch out my chest and arms as I make my way around the house, calling out her name as I go.
I come up empty, but I find every room just as clean as the living room, and something about it sets my nerves haywire.
It’s like every sign of her is gone… erased.
Fuckin’ hate it.
Only proof I know it wasn’t all a dream is the folded-up shirt she wore yesterday lying on my bed. Possessive bastard that I am, I grab the thing and bring it to my nose. All I smell is my body wash and the curl cream I used in her hair—but underneath that is her. That soft, wild scent I can’t name. Something I’ve come to crave.
After the intense round of back-to-back orgasms, my fingers buried deep inside her, mouth wrapped around every inch of her sweet pussy, my girl passed out on my chest.
I let her rest as long as I could, but we were both a mess, and she still needed to be looked after. I’d carefully rolled her ontothe couch and stepped away to shower quickly, not wanting to leave her alone for too long. But I needed a minute to myself. Needed a minute to wrap my mind….my fuckin’ heart, around what was happening between us.
She let me care for her.
Let me in.
Never thought I’d want this again. Not after Marlee. Not after what that kind of love cost me. I swore I’d never let anyone past the wall I built the day I re-upped my contract.
And I lasted for over a damn decade, but then Georgia burst into my life, vicious and burning and unafraid to meet me exactly as I am—broken and angry and bitter and a fuckin’ mess.
She saw it all and took me on, pushed me, pulled me, and dragged me right over that fuckin’ line I’d drawn in the sand back in the desert and fuck, I think I dragged her right over it with me.
After my shower, I lifted her soft, sleepy body up and bathed her, bringing her to two more half-awake, quiet orgasms in the tub.
All day, we lazed on the couch, watching TV, relaxing, talking about everything and nothing while I smothered her with questions. Asked her about her family, and how her search for answers has gone. What she's found, and about her life in foster care.
