Taming Georgia (The Flawed Heart Series)

by Ellie Wade

  I scoff, “Hardly. I’m not going to coddle my employees like you do. It doesn’t mean I’m a jerk. They need to grow the fuck up.”

  “You know, I had dinner with her last night.”

  I rip my focus from the papers on my desk and whip my head up, narrowing my eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I love her and miss her.”

  “You love everyone, but you’re not out on dinner dates every night. Why do you have to go out with her?”

  “Just because you ran her out doesn’t mean that I’m going to end my relationship with her. She’s a good girl. She called and wanted to get together. She misses the dogs, you know. She wanted updates. I’m pretty sure she misses everything about this place…and everyone.”

  Ethel’s pointed stare in my direction doesn’t go unnoticed, though I pretend it does.

  “For the record, I didn’t run her out. She chose to leave. There’s a big difference. I am who I am, E. I can’t be someone I’m not just to make her stay.”

  “You are who you are, but few see that side. Most see who you pretend to be.” She stands beside the desk now. Her arms cross over her shirt, which has a plaid cat flying a hang glider.

  “Cats can’t be plaid, for the record,” I gripe with a glower at her shirt.

  “They also can’t hang glide. What’s your point?”

  I push my chair back and stand. “What do you mean, who I pretend to be?”

  Ethel presses her pointer finger against her lips several times in thought. “I think you push people away before they can get close to you because you’re afraid to lose them.”

  “Seriously, don’t you own any non-cat shirts?” I glare, irritated by her dumb attire.

  “She told me about that kiss.” Ethel raises her eyebrows.

  Yep, not going there.

  “And you know what? The new guy forgot the clip. I have a right to be a jerk about that. They have to learn that’s not acceptable.”

  “She also told me about what you said to her in high school. That really hurt her, you know. She’s very self-conscious about coming from money, and she wants to be a good person despite of it.”

  I tap the desk. “I think Xavier is talking back too much. I get that we’re friends, but I’m still his boss.”

  “She said you’re the best kiss she’s ever had.” Ethel puckers her lips and opens her eyes obnoxiously wide.

  I throw the papers on my desk into the top drawer. At the same time, Cooper decides to wake from his slumber on the couch and peer toward Ethel and me with one ear cocked up, as if he’s listening.

  “Have you checked on Luna today? Do you think that cut on her neck is healing okay? It’s looking kind of puffy to me, like it might be infected.” I step over to the cabinet we keep the medicine in to check if we have antibiotics left.

  “One of her friends contacted her about going to Africa with a church group to help build wells and schools. She’s thinking about going.”

  I pick up a box of antibiotics. “We should probably just start her on another round. It can’t hurt. Then, if she is getting an infection, it can clear it up.”

  “I don’t know that she’d be back if she goes. Her family doesn’t live here. She just happens to be staying with a friend. That’s the only reason she’s in Michigan.”

  Cooper hops off the sofa and stretches.

  “Remember we have that donation drive on Saturday. You’re still free to come with me, right?”

  “She said that she doesn’t believe in true love. That made me feel sad. I know that the love I had for Earl was real. He was the only man I ever loved.” Ethel walks around, petting all of the cats who lounge lazily in their cat trees.

  “Can you set up another adoption event for these damn cats? I’m sick of them being here.”

  On cue, an obese orange one rubs his body against my leg, purring.

  “Read the body language, man. I’m not the one you want. Go to her.” I point toward E.

  “I don’t think I believe her though.” Ethel scratches a tabby cat’s butt as he sticks it up in the air for her.

  Cats are so weird.

  “I mean, surely, this fat thing”—I nudge the orange cat with my foot—“would be happier in a home. What cat wants to live in an office?”

  “Nope, I definitely don’t believe her.” Ethel shakes her head. “I know she loves you.”

  I freeze as the air leaves my lungs.

  “What?” I ask in disbelief.

  “I don’t know why really,” she continues. “Obviously, it’s not your charm. But sometimes, love is like that. It’s a connection thing. You can’t explain why it’s there. It just is.”

  “She said she loves me?”

  “Not in those exact words, but in many other words, she did. You just have to listen to hear it.”

  I groan, “Let me guess. She said, ‘I need a new jacket,’ and you translated that into, I’m in love with Wyatt.”

  Ethel laughs. “No, not like that.”

  “Like what then?”

  “I can see it. I know she does.” She picks up a black cat that’s trying to crawl over to her. She holds the cat in her arms, stroking his dark fur. “And I know you love her, too.”

  “All right, now, you’re just being crazy.” I grab the medicine log book to record the pill I’m about to give Luna.

  “I love you, Wyatt, like my own. You know that. But I have to be honest; you’re about as hardheaded as they come. That girl is good for you. For some crazy reason, she loves you. Don’t take too long, deciding what to do about that, because she’s going to be gone, and you’re going to be alone.” She sets the black cat down and starts toward the office door.

  “I like being alone,” I say to her back as she walks away.

  “No one likes being alone,” she calls over her shoulder.

  “I do,” I argue. “And you do realize that there’s a plaid cat’s ass on the back of your shirt?”

  The cat on the front of her shirt is also on the back, as if one is looking at him pass right through the shirt on his hang glider. There’s a large cat butt and the underside of the glider as it soars away.

  Where in the hell does she find this crap?

  After she’s gone, I turn to Cooper. “I’m not alone anyway. Right, boy? I have you.” I ruffle the fur on his head.

  I think about Georgia moving away, and I admit that it doesn’t sit well with me, but it is what it is. Ethel’s wrong though. There’s no way that Georgia could possibly love me.

  And Georgia’s right. There’s no such thing as true love, and if there were, Georgia wouldn’t be mine.

  15

  “I don’t need to be tamed. I love being free. I simply want to be seen.”—Georgia Wright

  “Africa? Really?” London’s face is displayed on the screen of my cell phone as we chat.

  “I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “It sounds good. There’s definitely a need. Do you know that some women carry giant pitchers of water on their heads for miles? It’s literally miles to the closest clean water source for some of these people. Can you imagine?”

  “But you promised Mom and Dad that you’d stay in the States.”

  “And I have.”

  “It’s been, like, three months, George.” London laughs.

  “Well, I’m bored and sad. I miss the dogs.”

  “Then, go back.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. You’re just too stubborn.”

  She’s right. I could return to Cooper’s Place. I know they’d take me back. They can use the help. But it’s weird now.

  “Go volunteer at another shelter,” she suggests. “That place isn’t the only one that needs help. In fact, I’m sure there are rescues down here that would love your help. Come stay with us.”

  “I don’t want to go to another one. It wouldn’t be the same. Plus, I’m not staying with you and Loïc. You need your space.”

  “We have plenty of space.”

  “You know w
hat I mean.”

  Newlyweds who are trying to conceive don’t need a permanent houseguest.

  “You don’t have money to travel to Africa anyway.”

  “I do. Dad’s been giving me an allowance from the trust fund to pay for my expenses here. I’ve been getting way more than I need. I have plenty for a plane ticket and living expenses over there. I don’t need much.”

  “How do we come from the same family?” London sighs with a grin. “You could look for a real job, one that uses your degree and pays you a salary. That might be fulfilling?”

  “I don’t want to. I’m not like you. I don’t need fancy things or a big house. I like being free. Helping others makes me happy. I hate that I have a huge trust fund in my name. It makes me feel guilty. I’m at least going to take advantage of my resources and put my time to good use.”

  London knows all of this, and so does my entire family. Yet I seem to have to explain my choices to them every couple of months. They love me, but they don’t understand me.

  “Someday, you’ll meet someone who’ll tame your wild spirit. Then, you’ll settle down. Until then, it’s fine to travel around. I envy you in that way. I just worry about you. I want you to be safe.”

  “I know you do. I don’t need to be tamed. I love being free. I simply want to be seen.”

  “I see you.” There’s concern in her voice. “I know you, George, and you’re right; you’re perfect the way you are. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am—or I will be.” I glance outside at the dreariness. “Maybe I just need some sun.”

  “Oh my gosh, yes! I always feel blue that last month of winter when it’s almost like sunshine and warmth will never come again. That’s one bad thing about Michigan.”

  “Definitely. Anyway, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

  “You sure you want to open that can of worms? I’m a bit of a hot mess at the moment.”

  I smile. “Yes, please. I need your mess to distract me. Spill it.”

  London tells me of her fertility woes and stresses of life and marriage. I welcome all of the details. I’m sad for my sister, and I wish she didn’t have to go through this. Though the distraction of someone else’s life problems is a nice change. I spend too much time wallowing in my own stuff.

  I don’t need Wyatt or his rescue. I literally have an entire world of people I can help. Starting with my sister. I doubt I’ll have any profound words of advice. Yet sometimes one feels better by having someone hear them. I can do that. I can listen.

  My arms wrap around my knees as I hold them close to my chest. When one can’t find the answers in life, there’s always a Netflix binge. I’m currently engrossed in a new-to-me show, and it’s intense.

  I’m glad my sister’s not here. I’ve bitten off the tips of all of my nails. I know it’s a disgusting habit. I only do it when I’m really anxious, and this show is making me nervous. It’s so good.

  I jump with a yelp when there’s a knock.

  Chill, Georgia.

  It’s just someone at the door. Pressing pause, I throw off the blanket and make my way to the front door.

  My jaw drops when I open it and see who is on the other side. I quickly recover and close my gaping mouth.

  Wyatt is standing on the front porch. Cooper stands at his side, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth. In Wyatt’s arms is Mila, my miracle puppy.

  I’m so excited to see her that the shock that Wyatt is also here is momentarily forgotten. I immediately take her from Wyatt’s grasp and hold her to me, kissing her soft fur.

  “It hasn’t been that long, and she’s so much bigger already,” I say.

  “Yeah, they’re going to be ready for adoption in a couple of weeks. I thought you might want to have her. I know she’s one of your favorites.”

  I step back from the doorway and invite Wyatt and Cooper to come in out of the cold. With Mila still in my arms, I kneel down and pet Cooper, who returns the affection with some doggie kisses to my face.

  I head into the living room. Cooper and Wyatt follow. I sit on the couch with Mila. She becomes extra squirmy, so I let her down to explore.

  “You know, she’s probably going to find a place to pee,” Wyatt warns me. He takes a seat in the oversize chair across from me.

  I shrug. “Good thing we have wood floors.” Then, I look to him. “What are you doing here?”

  He looks down as if there’s something fascinating on his shoe before lifting his head and locking his eyes with mine. “I don’t know, honestly.”

  “I can’t adopt Mila,” I respond to his comment from moments ago. “I’m moving soon. I can’t take her with me, unfortunately. I wish I could. I don’t have a stable enough life for a pet right now.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Africa, I think.”

  He bobs his head in acknowledgment. “Okay, well, good.” He drops his palms to his thighs and stands. “Sorry to bother you. We have to go.” His tone is firm and his words short.

  I follow him into the kitchen as he looks for Mila.

  “Wait,” I say on an exhale.

  He turns to face me.

  The room is silent, save for our breaths. In the background, there’s some rustling in another room. I’m sure it’s Mila ripping apart something, as that’s what puppies do. But I don’t care to investigate. I’m frozen, locked in Wyatt’s stare.

  I can’t believe he’s here, and if I’m truthful with myself, I don’t want him to leave.

  “Why did you come here?” I ask him again, taking a step in his direction.

  He shakes his head and takes a step forward, lessening the distance between us even more. “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me,” I breathe out.

  My heart beats wildly in my chest. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been in Wyatt’s presence, and yet my emotions are running rampant. I’m terrified that he’ll leave, and I’m equally afraid that he won’t.

  His eyelids close. I can almost feel the internal torment radiating from him.

  When he opens them, his eyes lock with mine. “I don’t know what to say, Georgia.”

  I swallow my nerves and breathe in some courage. “How about the truth?”

  He forces out a chuckle. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “You do. It might be hard to find, but it’s in you somewhere. You merely have to have the strength to say it.”

  His head falls back with a groan. “I hate this.”

  His fists squeeze at his sides, and I can see his chest expand with labored breaths. I’m not sure what’s going on inside of him, but he’s feeling something, and I have to know what it is. I have to.

  “All right, listen. I’m going to ask you a yes or no question. Say the first answer that pops into your head. Don’t overthink it. Just answer immediately.”

  His eyes narrow, and his lips press into a line.

  “Just do it,” I tell him, my voice pleading.

  “Okay,” he agrees reluctantly.

  My questions fall from my mouth in rapid succession. “Yes or no, do you want me to come back to work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you miss me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have feelings for me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to kiss me?”

  “Yes.”

  My chest tightens, and I bite my lip. “Kiss me.”

  There’s hesitation in Wyatt’s eyes. His gaze darts to my lips and back up again. His lids close, and he pulls in an audible breath. When he opens his eyes, they’re darker, sure, and full of need. He takes one more step and circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

  His body is so strong against mine. It feels warm, and I melt into it. The way I want him makes me feel weak. But I can’t stop the attraction I have. He’s like sunshine heating me despite the vast cold that surrounds me. I can survive without him in the cloudy, frigid winter. But it’s so much better in
the light.

  His lips move hesitantly at first—seeking permission, wanting more. I raise my arms, and my fingers thread into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. A mix between a sigh and a moan leaves my mouth. It’s a sound of relief, and that’s all the encouragement Wyatt needs.

  He kisses me hard now. His fingers dig into my skin, and the desperation I feel makes me frantic with need. Our hands explore one another over our clothes—kneading, pulling, grasping. The countertop presses against the small of my back as Wyatt leans into me. Our lips haven’t separated as each of our tongues worship the other.

  Wyatt’s desire is evident as the firmness of it presses into my belly, making my knees weak.

  His lips leave mine, and they work their way down my neck. I push my pelvis into his, needing relief.

  “Yes or no, do you want me?” I pant, hoping Wyatt tells me what I know to be true.

  “Yes,” he sighs against the skin of my neck. Goose bumps erupt over my entire body. “Yes.”

  Grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, I pull it over his head and drop it to the floor. He mirrors my action and does the same to me. His stare burns my skin as he slides down the straps of my bra and gently kisses one of my shoulders.

  I splay my hands against his abdomen. The ridges against my palms make my heart beat faster with lust. Pushing him back, I undo the button of his jeans. His chest rises and falls as I pull down his zipper.

  He makes quick work of removing my bra. When his mouth covers my nipple, my head falls back with a moan. It’s almost a pained sound because the pleasure is so intense that it’s approaching unbearable. I need Wyatt more than I’ve needed anything in my life.

  He sucks and pulls as my hips push into him. My hands grab at the skin of his waist, drawing him into me. Dragging his teeth along my nipple, he tugs, stretching it out until he releases it. I whimper.

  Dropping to his knees, he pulls down my yoga pants and thong. I step out of the fabric, leaving me naked and completely bare to him. He slides his hands up my body, searing me with his touch before he drags them back down my skin. He drops his head back and captures me with his gaze. My chin to my chest, I can’t take my eyes away from him.