Maybe that’s finally changed. Maybe all my wishes have finally come true.
Chapter Thirty Four
Domestic, Deranged, and Hot as Hell
“Wake up, darlin’,” I rumble, voice thick with sleep as I brush Georgia’s mess of hair from her face.
She blinks up at me, a soft smile ghosting her lips before jerking upright with a gasp, moving so quick, her head knocks into mine.
Grunting, I shake the throb away and glare down at her, jaw ticking as I prod at her forehead. “You hurt yourself—”
“Oh my God! Aurora!” she cries, jumping off the couch. The blanket wrapped around her drops, tangling with her feet and she stumbles forward, arms spiraling like a damn windmill.
I snatch her up, arm around her middle and haul her into my arms, her back to my chest.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she whimpers, nails biting into my arm. “Shit. Let me down—”
“Hey, hey, relax,” I interrupt, moving her from the danger zone of the blanket and coffee table. “She’s okay. She’s playing with my sisters out back.”
Georgia freezes, body tense for a split second before the fight drains right out of her. Confident she’s not about to fall or run, I drop her feet to the ground and slowly release her.
She smooths her hands down her clothes—black fitted pants and a soft sweater. Same thing she was wearing when she showed up last night and rescued me from severe sleep deprivation brought on by a screaming, drooling, pooping toddler.
Only thing Georgia’s missing is those damn sky-high heels that kill me every time she wears them, which isn't much. My girl prefers her cute little fake cowgirl boots. I make a mental note to get her some real ones.
With a slow exhale, she turns to face me, lip tucked between her teeth, hands clenched in front of her.
She looks nervous as hell—awkward even. And she’s silent, which isn’t like Georgia. Even when she’s mad, she’s rambling a mile a minute, or biting my head off at the very least.
Only time I’ve seen her so…stand-offish… is when she’s pulling away, walls up and feet halfway out the damn door.
“You slept,” she finally whispers, body language closed off.
I nod slowly, eyes narrowed.
“I’m glad. You needed it.”
Gesturing to the couch, I grumble, “Why didn’t you come to bed with me?”
“With you?” she asks, voice a little high-pitched, cheeks burning red. “Oh, I, uh—” She takes a step back… a stepawayfrom me. “Just fell asleep. I was going to make you breakfast, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be up, or if you’d want me to hang around after you slept. I can…” Brows furrowed, she gives a sharp nod. “I’ll go—”
Nah. We’re not doing this shit.
Unable to take the distance—emotional and physical—I haul her over my shoulder and stomp toward the kitchen.
“AH! What the hell are you doing, Kade?” she snaps, little palms slapping against my back. “Put me down, you big brute!”
I grin. There’s my wildfire.
My hand claps down on her perfect, round ass before I drop her on the island. Don’t give her a second to overthink a damn thing before I’m on her, forcing my way between her thighs, hand gripped around her jaw, fingers threaded through her wavy hair.
“Talk to me,” I demand, voice rough, muscles corded with tension as my eyes flick between hers. “What the hell happened between last weekend and now?”
Her throat bobs beneath my grip, fingertips digging into the counter like she wants to touch me but doesn’t know if she can, orshould.
I hate it.
She drops her gaze. “Nothing.”
