Here, in the sunshine. Here, in my presence. Here, in my hometown… with my mother who’s still touching her.
Why is she touching her?
I can’t stop staring at Georgia. Her lashes are long. Her smile is lethal. And those dimples? I’m sure they’ve killed a man before.
But her freckles?
Her freckles are a goddamn trap.
“We don’t work together,” I clarify, my tone rough as hell. I clear my throat, and Georgia watches. It’s annoying. I flash my mom a fake smirk. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Then why do you look so squirrely?” Mom gasps, gesturing between the two of us. “Do you two have a little office romance going on?”
“Mom,” I strangle out. “Christ. I don’t evenhavean office.”
“Right,” she huffs. “You work from that cesspit you call a home.”
Georgia’s eyes flick between us like she’s cataloging everything. I see the gears turning. I also see the moment she realizes I haven’t told Mom a damn thing.
Beatrice Archer turns back to her, completely charmed, forgetting me altogether.
“Are you new in town, sweetheart? I can’t say I’d forget meeting you before.”
But you’d wish like hell you could.
Georgia twitches like the attention physically hurts her. “Uh, yeah. I just moved here.”
My mouth opens to end this conversation, the urge to get in my truck and haul ass back to mycesspitis nearly too much to resist, but something stops me. Slaps my jaw shut. My feet shift against my will, tugging me a step closer, and my ears tune in a bit harder, like I give a damn what Georgia’s life story is or something.
“How lovely! What brought you to Heart Springs?” my mom asks.
Georgia glances at me and bites her thick bottom lip, hesitating a moment.
Does she not want me to know? She looks so uncomfortable I almost crow with glee and make a show of settling in for story time.
How’s it feel to be the one on display, freckles?
“I just needed a change,” she finally murmurs, staring at her feet.
My brows draw tight. Pretty sure she’s lying.
“Well,” Mom says warmly, reaching out to touch her arm. I narrow my eyes at the connection. “How do you like it so far?”
“I haven’t really been downtown until today,” she admits, gaze flicking around. I expect her to curl her lip, to scoff at the rundown town. Instead, she smiles warmly. “But it’s beautiful, and the air is so fresh compared to New York.”
“Is that where you’re from?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
A look of shock twists her expression.
Shock at what? That I’m talking to her?
I glance away, forcing my features into something bland and disinterested, because no one’s more shocked than me.
The hell was that?
Georgia makes some kind of grumbling, irritated sound that I expertly ignore.
“I’ve lived all over, but spent the last ten or so years in New York.” Another smile, but this one feels all wrong. “South Dakota is just another stop on the map.”
