Taming Georgia (The Flawed Heart Series)

by Ellie Wade

  27

  “I want Wyatt—today, tomorrow, and always.”—Georgia Wright

  Wyatt and I walk into the rescue the next day, hand in hand. I don’t offer to release our grasp, and neither does he. He officially doesn’t mind public displays of affection, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.

  Who are we? This happy, well-adjusted couple with all of our hopes and insecurities laid out on the table. Our relationship seems so mature now. What a difference a week makes. It might have taken me losing Wyatt, me flying to another country, Ethel getting sick, and my tear-filled apologies, but we’re exactly where we need to be.

  We spent the weekend helping Ethel get adjusted and attempted to kill her yesterday with our poisonous pasta. She’s still in pain from the surgery. I can see it in her face when she moves. But it was major surgery done a mere week ago, so some pain is to be expected. Overall, I think she’s doing great after her blood clot scare.

  Luciana is heading over there today to cook and package up the rest of the meals we planned for her this week. So, she’ll be fed, and of course, we’ll stop by every day to check in on her.

  I talked with Wyatt last night, and I’m going to start transitioning my belongings over to his house. We’ve only just gotten back together, but it’s different this time. There are no underlying fears and insecurities. For the first time in my entire life, I feel settled. I know exactly what I want, and I don’t need to jump on a plane to search for it.

  I want Wyatt—today, tomorrow, and always.

  I want this life, with these people, in this place. I want to go to bed every night in Wyatt’s arms and wake up each morning beside him. I want to go to work every morning to do one of the most devastating jobs I’ve ever done. I want to help these precious babies, even if it breaks my heart to do so, because I can. I can make a difference. I can save lives every day, and I can do it here with the only man I’ve ever loved.

  Rescue work isn’t for the faint of heart; there’s no doubt. I’ve seen tragedy firsthand in many places all over the world, but there’s something about these animals that breaks me more than I thought was possible. Yet the moment a beaten-down dog realizes that he’s safe for the first time, the moment his scared tail wags, his desperate eyes find mine, and his forgiving spirit extends a tongue to kiss me in gratitude, it’s worth all of the tears because I know that this precious animal is safe. He will be happy, and he will be loved.

  This place mirrors life in a way. Some don’t come by a happily ever after easily. Some have to fight hard for it, and some never get one at all. The ones that hold out for it the longest appreciate it the most.

  Cooper passes us as we walk through the kennels, prancing like he owns the place, and Mila struggles in my grasp. I let her down, so she can chase her best friend, Cooper. I swear, that girl loves me and Wyatt, but that chubby, big-mouthed, long-tongued pittie is her absolute favorite. She would follow him anywhere.

  I turn to Wyatt. He releases my hand from his grasp and brings both of his hands to my cheeks, holding either side. He kisses me, and I sigh into his mouth.

  He pulls his lips from mine. “Have a good day, Peaches.”

  “You, too.”

  “I love you,” he tells me.

  My heart begins to race. I will never tire of hearing those words come from his mouth.

  “I love you,” I tell him back.

  Then, he’s off to his office, and I just smile as I watch him go.

  Our days here are busy. The list of things to finish seems daunting, but we get it done—each playing the parts we’re best at. We make a good team.

  Mila’s at my feet, playing with my shoe.

  “Do you want to help Mama? Come on. Let’s go see your friends.”

  She starts off toward the kennels like a pudgy, bucking bronco, and I laugh, my heart completely full.

  Regardless of what happened yesterday or what will occur tomorrow, I have my happily ever after today. Each breath I pull in will be one of gratitude, each smile I make will be one of happiness, and each kiss I give will be one of love. I’ll cherish every second of this crazy life because it’s the one I choose, the one I want, the one I need.

  28

  “Living a good life, knowing how to fill one’s soul with joy, is the true gift. Money is just a bonus.”

  —Wyatt Gates

  I dry off the last dish and put it away in the cupboard after our big Sunday meal. Our weekly gatherings have continued since the one at Ethel’s house right after she came home from the hospital last spring.

  It’s hard to admit that I look forward to these meals, but I do. We’re the biggest group of misfits—the world-traveling rich girl; the ex-nurse turned crazy cat woman; a heavy dose of ex-homeless people with varying odd personality traits; the ex-sorority girl who, despite her good job in the business world, always seems to use phrases that make no sense; and me with more baggage than them all. In spite of our vast differences, we all have one thing in common, and that’s our love for dogs. And I’ve found that dog people are the best people.

  Entering the living room, I find Georgia sitting cross-legged on the floor amid a scattered mess of papers. We’ve been together for a solid six months, and she was working at the rescue a couple of months prior to us dating, so I figured it was time to elicit her help with the never-ending paperwork in my life. Running a rescue comes with lots of paperwork, and I’d much rather be out on rescues or working with the dogs. Thankfully, Georgia saw my request for help as an exciting challenge and not as me passing off my shit work onto her, which, shamefully, I feel it was.

  She holds a piece of paper in her hand, her mouth open as she scans it. Her head rises when she hears me enter. “Wyatt Gates, you’re loaded,” she says in astonishment. “How did I not know this?”

  I shrug with a chuckle. “It never came up.”

  She pins me with a stare. “My money comes up all the time, and yet this”—she waves my bank statement in the air—“somehow hasn’t been mentioned.”

  “It’s not important. You know I don’t care about money.”

  “Clearly, but this is a big deal. It should be invested correctly. It could be used to do some amazing things in your life if you manage it the right way,” she states.

  “Well, that’s why I solicited your help,” I respond.

  “First of all, where did it all come from?”

  There’s a giant chew toy in front of my foot. Bending down, I begin to gather up the dog toys and toss them into the toy bin. “Apparently, my dad had a separate account set up with a substantial sum that had a high interest rate. The only thing the account was used for was to pay for my parents’ excellent life insurance policies. I never knew it existed until Ethel helped me go through some boxes that my mom had stored in her garage when we lost our house and moved to the apartment in Ypsilanti. I guess my mom was too high to find time to go through all of my dad’s things when he died. She never knew this money existed or that she had so much money coming to her from his life insurance policy.”

  “That’s so sad. All of that time, you could’ve had more than you did. You suffered for nothing.”

  “No.” I shake my head, surveying the room to make sure I picked up all of the toys before stepping closer to Georgia. “I’m glad she never knew about it. She would have wasted it away on drugs. I don’t regret my childhood. Yeah, it was hard, but I made it through. It turned me into the man that I am today. Looking around at what I have now, I can’t regret my past because I wouldn’t have all of this without it.”

  She slowly shakes her head, obviously still getting used to this new information.

  “Money doesn’t buy happiness. You know that’s true. It’s what one does with money that does. I’ve done a lot of good with that money. Believe me, that sum used to be a lot higher.” I chuckle. “A person running a nonprofit animal rescue doesn’t make much, if anything. That money bought this house, my truck, the shelter, paid off Ethel’s bills, and the house that the employees stay
in. I try to get the rescue funded as much as I can through donations now, but if the dogs or employees need something and I haven’t raised enough money to afford it, I have that.” I nod toward the paper in her hand.

  “Wow. I had no idea. I guess I never thought about where you got the money to open the rescue in the first place. You know if you invest it, then you can do more good with the earnings from the interest on this amount of money.”

  “And that’s why I have you,” I tell her with a smile.

  She sets the paper down on the floor beside her and stands. She walks over to me and drapes her arms around my neck. “You’re a really good man, Wyatt, and that’s why I love you so very much.”

  I softly kiss her lips.

  “Not everyone in your shoes would’ve done the same. I’d say most wouldn’t have. You were without money your whole life, and when you got it, you spent it to help others. I mean, that’s incredible.”

  “Have you seen my truck? It’s pretty sweet,” I joke.

  “You know what I mean, Wyatt. You’re special—in here.” She places a hand on my chest.

  “You’re the same,” I tell her. “Your heart is beautiful, and that’s one of the main reasons I love you.”

  She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses me. “I can’t believe I’m dating a rich guy. My dad’s going to be so excited!” she teases, causing me to laugh.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I chuckle. “I’m as poor as they come—in here.” I point toward my head. “I’ll always feel like that kid with nothing, and I’ll never want fancy, extravagant things.”

  There are two types of people with money—those who worship it and those who don’t. Of no fault of her own, Georgia was raised by the kind of people who worship money. They feel that money not only brings happiness, but also status and worth. I know that it doesn’t. It’s nice to have, no doubt, and I’m grateful that I can do the things I want without worrying about where I’ll get my next meal. Yet money will never bring true fulfillment, it will never make me better than anyone else with less, and it won’t make me more important by merely having it. Living a good life, knowing how to fill one’s soul with joy, is the true gift. Money is just a bonus.

  “That’s fine by me. I think our life is perfect just the way it is.” Her lips tilt up in a smile.

  “You know, had my mom found this money when I was younger, it wouldn’t have made a difference. I never cared about where we lived or what I wore. I truly didn’t miss not having the latest video game. All I ever wanted was to be seen and to be loved by the woman I loved the most, and she was so stuck in her own personal hell that she could never do either of those things. She never saw me, and she never loved me. Money wouldn’t have changed that.”

  A tear falls down Georgia’s cheek. “She loved you, Wyatt. She might not have been able to show you, but she loved you. I know it because you’re impossible not to love.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Want to go sit out on the deck for a bit? Maybe start a fire? I can make you a cappuccino.” I quirk an eyebrow up, knowing how much she loves cappuccinos from our new coffeemaker.

  She claps her hands together. “Yes!”

  “You might want to put your”—I look down to the complete chaos on the floor—“piles on the table before Thing One and Thing Two wake from the couch and go scattering them everywhere.” I nod toward the slumbering fur babies.

  “Hey, you might not see it, but there’s an order to this madness.” She waves her hand over the floor.

  Pressing my lips into a line, I raise both eyebrows. “I’m sure,” I say, shooting her a wink.

  It’s a beautiful autumn day in Michigan. The bright, colorful leaves blow in the warm wind. The sun shines through the trees, making the yellow, orange, and red leaves almost twinkle as they dance.

  I’m a grump by nature—or I was before Georgia—but even on my darkest day, a day like today would bring me joy. I always saw perfect fall days as rewards for making it through the rest of the not-so-great ones. Everything around me—the vibrant view, the touch of the soft breeze, the autumn smells, the sound of rustling leaves that creates a soothing symphony—all comes together in a sensory paradise.

  I’ve started a small fire in our pit on the deck. Cooper and Mila run around the yard, playing keep-away with a stick. Mila’s really good at it as she whips her head around right before Cooper grabs it. He does have a good seven years on her though. It’s hilarious how Cooper refuses to just pick up another stick. Instead, he’ll chase her around until he needs a nap.

  Georgia sits in the swing on the porch. She’s in yoga pants and a T-shirt, her hair pulled up into a messy bun without a stitch of makeup. She’s smiling as she watches the dogs play, and she’s more beautiful than she’s ever been.

  God, I love her.

  I still can’t believe she’s mine.

  Most days feel like a dream because they’re so incredible. I never believed in true love or soul mates because the concept was so foreign to me. If one’s mother doesn’t truly love them, who else will? I believe now. No one on this planet is more suited for me than Georgia. She’s everything I wanted but was too insecure to hope for. Life taught me a long time ago not to wish for miracles, not to pray for perfection, but to settle with okay. Life doesn’t know a damn thing because Georgia is my miracle. She’s the perfection that fills me up with absolute love every single day.

  She envelops me in a sense of security that I never knew existed. I’m no longer fearful of the future. I’m not waiting for the bottom to fall out beneath me. I have Georgia today, and I’m secure in the fact that I’ll have her always. She loves me in a way that only she can, and it happens to be the precise way I need to be loved. She is my soul mate, my forever. I’ve stopped questioning why I deserve her, why I’m so lucky. Instead, insecurities have been replaced with gratitude, and I give thanks by loving her with everything I have, every second of the day.

  I hand her a mug of warm coffee. She pulls the cup up to her nose and sniffs.

  “Mmm,” she says. “It smells like heaven in a cup. Thank you.” Her blue eyes shine up to me with a kaleidoscope of shades of indigo, all uniquely beautiful and mesmerizing.

  “You’re welcome,” I say before returning to the house to grab something. I was going to save it for our first Christmas together, but I can’t wait any longer. It’s the perfect day, with the perfect girl, in this perfect life.

  Today’s the day.

  I come back with a big silver box wrapped in a large pink satin bow. Georgia’s eyes widen when I emerge from the house with her present. She places her mug down on the table and sits up.

  “What’s that?” she asks, clapping her hands in front of her.

  “Well, I got you a gift. I was going to wait until Christmas to give it to you, but I’m weak, and I want you to have it now.”

  “Oh my gosh, I love presents,” she says, giddy with excitement.

  I place the large box on her lap. She runs her palms over the smooth paper and looks up to me, her lips turning up into a wide smile. She pulls the bottom of the ribbon. Her eyes sparkle as they dart up toward me again. The fabric falls to the side, and she lifts off the top of the box. After removing the tissue paper, she gasps.

  “You kept this?”

  “Yeah, I kind of stole it.”

  “You did not.” She laughs.

  “What were they going to do, come after me? Ruin my credit score?” I shoot her a wink.

  She shakes her head. “This is where it all started, didn’t it?” She runs her hand over the cover of my old Biology textbook from high school.

  “It sure did,” I tell her. “There’s a note.”

  She picks up the small note and removes it from the envelope.

  “Read it aloud,” I ask her.

  Her eyes fill with tears, and she swallows. “This is when I started falling for you, and I’ve never stopped. I’ll continue to fall for you for all eternity because my love for you has no end. I love y
ou. Wyatt. P.S. Open me.” Her beautiful face looks up from the card. “Open the book?” Her voice trembles.

  “Open the book.”

  Her hand shakes as she sets the card down. Grabbing the corner of the textbook, she opens the cover. Her hands go to her mouth as she stares, wide-eyed, at the diamond ring placed neatly in a hole cut out of the center of the book’s pages.

  I grab the ring and get down on one knee. “Georgia, there was a time in my life when you were the only reason that I got up in the morning. Seeing you for one hour every day made my existence matter. At the darkest point in my life, you were my light. Now, you’re my favorite reason to get up in the morning, and you’re still my light. Life works in mysterious ways, and I’m so grateful that you came back to me. I was put on this earth to love you and only you. I promise to love and cherish you with my whole heart for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

  Georgia sobs across from me and throws her arms around my neck. She peppers my face, her kisses wet with tears. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cries. “I love you! Yes!”

  We make out like two seventeen-year-olds finding love for the first time. The truth is, every day, I discover more ways to love, more ways to be loved. Georgia heals a piece of my heart each day with the way in which she loves me.

  “I can’t believe you stole that book.” She giggles between kisses.

  “Yep, you’re marrying a criminal.”

  “And I can’t wait.” She pulls my mouth to hers before abruptly stopping the kiss. “You have to put it on!” She grins.

  “What?”

  “The ring,” she squeals, her gaze dropping to my hand.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  I lift my hand, holding the diamond ring between my fingers. She extends her left hand, and I slide it on.