Writing Mr. Right

by Wright, Michaela

  “My god, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  Georgia sighed, still timid despite the slow movement of her hips. She planted a hand on his chest and lifted herself just so, then dropped back onto him. He took a sharp breath, blowing it out through pursed lips. She did it again, feeling his hands pull and push at her hips, showing her what he wanted.

  “I almost forgot how good you feel,” he said, whispering.

  Her face burned and she shushed him, only moving faster. “I didn’t.”

  He moaned softly, a strange need hidden in its depths. Despite her initial trepidation, she felt a fervor at the way he responded – that his pleasure was her doing. That with each rise and fall of her body, his lips parted and his gaze intensified, or his eyes closed completely. If she wanted to, she could ride him to his finish, and there would be nothing he could do about it.

  “Did ye miss me?”

  Her face cracked with an almost pained smile. How could she ever express how much without betraying everything? She took hold of his hands, lifting them up and pinning them to the bed by his head.

  He smiled at her, mischief in his eyes. “What do ye think you’re doing?”

  She grinned, bracing herself against the sensation of him, and doubled her efforts, bouncing on him with such intensity that the whole bed began to shake, the headboard clapping against the wall. Garrett’s head fell back and he groaned, then went silent, holding his breath. His expression took on the air of near desperation and restraint. She loved looking at him – watching him. She’d done this very thing every night in her dreams.

  “You’ve ruined me, woman,” he said, breathless.

  Her legs were burning now, but she refused to stop.

  He glared up at her. “Talk tae me.”

  She smiled, but shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Aye, ye can. Talk tae me.”

  She shook her head and before she could brace, he yanked his hands from her grasp and took hold of her breasts, clamping his hot mouth over her nipple. She shuddered and cried out, unable to keep her rhythm as the sensation of his mouth on her breast doubled the intensity of all other senses. She grabbed him by the hair, holding him to her breast as he sucked at her. It was clear who was at whose mercy. He moved to the other breast, shifting his hips beneath her to keep her moving. Yet, her legs were undone, thighs clenching around him as she felt herself growing close.

  “Oh my god, you feel so good!”

  He smiled. He could feel it. “That’s my girl.”

  He locked his hands behind her lower back and pulled her down onto him, holding her as close as he could as he bucked his hips beneath her. She screamed at the sudden return of sensation, curling her fingers into the blankets by his head. He clutched her to him, his breath ragged against her ear. He moved with purpose, rising and falling beneath her as she gasped. Then she held her breath.

  In that moment, she could hear him whispering in her ear, words so soft she almost couldn’t make them out. “Georgia. My Georgia.”

  She melted over him with a desperate wail of release, her legs shuddering under her, her stomach muscles tightening to near pain. She clung to him as he continued to move, carrying her through the orgasm as it receded, then built anew, reaching an even higher crescendo. She couldn’t so much as whimper as he roared beneath her, finding his own release as her orgasm seared through her body, and receded again. He left her shaking and weak, crumpled atop him.

  The two of them lay there, catching their breath. He kissed her ear, her jaw, stroked her hair, all between slowing breaths. When Georgia finally tried to move, it felt as though her legs were atrophied, leaving her bent and broken. Garrett gently rolled her onto her side as she gasped against the pain in her legs. His kilt was still rumpled between them, the plats folded over each other.

  He slumped onto his back and rest his arm across his forehead. “Mother of God, woman.”

  She smiled, laughing through her nose. “I believe the old adage of ‘you won’t walk right for a week’ may apply here.”

  He smiled at that, leaning over to kiss her. He glanced at the clock. “What time is your flight, then?”

  Georgia followed his gaze. It was just shy of 3AM. She sighed. “It’s at ten. Have to be there in five hours.”

  Garrett turned his eye to her, his expression softening. “Do ye mind if I stay?”

  She smiled and shook her head, hoping her face didn’t betray the world of emotions that surged within. Garrett hopped up from the bed and proceeded to unbuckle his kilt. He hung it over the back of her desk chair, stripped off his hose, and climbed into bed, holding the blankets up for her to join him. Despite the warm air of the hotel room, Georgia curled into him, the whole of his body pressed to hers. He wrapped his arm across her belly, pressing his knee to the back of hers, and pulled her against him, kissing her shoulder. Georgia felt the sleep of the dead coming – the sleep of the glorious, contented dead.

  “I’ve thought about ye too, love.”

  Georgia heard the words, but the weight of sleep stilled any notion of response.

  ***

  Cassie rode in the front seat with the driver, leaving Garrett and Georgia in the back. The ride was uneventful, most of the conversation consisting of Cassie answering any questions the driver had. Garrett sat beside Georgia, his fingers curled in hers. They hadn’t spoken much that morning, stealing moments of intimacy in bed when they woke, then again in the shower, but the moments in between remained quiet, heavy with some unspoken thing. He wasn’t sure what her silence carried, but he knew his well – he didn’t want her to leave.

  Georgia’s phone chimed in her pocket, and she snuck her hand away from his to check it.

  She glanced down at it and smiled wide. “Told you so,” she said, almost to herself.

  Cassie glanced back. “What is it?”

  Georgia waved the phone. “Sam passed the bar.”

  “Oh, that’s fantastic! Tell her I said ‘congratulations!’”

  Georgia stared down at her phone, smiling to herself a moment. Then she reached for Garrett’s hand again, silent.

  They arrived at Edinburgh Airport and the driver pulled through the parking garage outside, dropping them just outside the terminal. The shorter man hopped out to retrieve their bags from the trunk, delivered them to Cassie and her waiting cart, then he glanced over at Garrett.

  The driver smiled, nudging Georgia as she pulled a twenty pound note from her purse to give to him. “Told ye he’d turn up, ae?”

  Georgia gave him a wide, but almost sad smile.

  The driver beamed at her, oblivious. He took the tip, then nodded to Garrett. “I’ll take ye back tae town when yer ready, then, ae? Be parked right there.”

  “Oh, that’s no necessary -”

  “Already paid for,” Cassie said, turning her bag cart toward the crosswalk and the airport.

  Garrett turned to Georgia, finding her smiling, though the expression was strange. He offered his arm to her and walked her into the airport.

  Cassie was a diligent creature, and all the finer details were taken care of without Georgia’s involvement. They sat together, people watching and silent as Cassie tended to affairs. Georgia sat beside him, her arm clutching his, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. He turned and kissed her on the head, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, he stopped himself. What could he say? She had a life; she had every waking moment of that life planned for the foreseeable future. What good would some enamored idiot stuck in a book shop in Edinburgh do for her?

  “Alright, you ready to go?”

  Georgia inhaled sharply, and Garrett turned to find her eyes were welling up. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, smiling, then glanced to Cassie.

  “I’ll go get in line,” Cassie said, and left the two of them alone.

  Georgia smiled at him. She forced a laugh. “Are you going to call this time?”

 
; He stifled the saddest laugh. “You ken I will.”

  With that, a tear rolled down her cheek.

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there a moment. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I don’t want ye tae go either.”

  She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in the folds of his shirt. Garrett held her there as the world bustled around them, hundreds of people heading to all corners of the world, oblivious to the two people standing there, wanting nothing more than to grow roots there and not part. She hiccupped softly, and he realized she was trying not to cry. He could feel her tears saturating through his shirt. It startled him to see her so upset.

  “I’m never going to hear from you again, am I?”

  He took her face in his hands and turned her to look at him. From her side, he deserved this, and he knew it, but the memory of searching for her all those months and meeting with only disappointment – what could have happened between them had they found their way back to each other sooner?

  The thought that she harbored this fear just about broke his heart. He met her eyes, sad and reddened now. “Rubbish. That’s absolute rubbish. Wild horses, as they say.”

  She forced a smile, but he could see she didn’t believe him.

  “Georgia, ye don’t know how hard I tried to get tae ye. For months, I was callin anyone who might get a message tae ye. Now, I’ve found ye – God, if I could, wouldna let ye leave.”

  “Really?”

  “Christ yes. And for fuck’s sake, if I can’t have ye here -” Garrett took a deep breath as he realized what he was about to say. “Christ, you’re gonna think Jenny was right and I’m a nutter, but -”

  Cassie called over and Georgia’s lip trembled as she waved back. She was running late now. “What were you going to say?”

  Garrett stared at her a moment, then decided. It would be better to be thought a nutter, than to never say it. “I could sell the shop. I’ve done it before. Come to Boston. People read in Boston. Not many, I know. It is America.”

  Georgia’s eyes went wide. She thought he was crazy. Well, fuck.

  “Don’t say that, Garrett. You can’t say shit like that, I’ll belie -”

  Garrett swallowed. “Maybe I shouldnae, but it’s said.”

  “What if I don’t want you to come to Boston?”

  “Oh. Ehm -” Garrett closed his eyes a moment, startled by just how much these words hurt.

  “No, I didn’t mean that. I mean, I do want you to, but what if -.”

  Cassie appeared beside them, touching Georgia’s elbow. “Garrett, it was lovely meeting you, but we have to go. If she didn’t have an event this evening in London, I would say snog the day away, as you Brits say, but given they are expecting us -”

  Georgia wiped her face. “I know, I know.”

  She grabbed up her bag from the bench and shouldered it. Georgia curled her fingers into Garrett’s shirt, pulled him into her to kiss him, and then stormed off, shielding her face from him as she went.

  Garrett took a deep breath and watched them hustle into the VIP check in line and out of sight. He’d gone dry in the mouth and his stomach was in knots, but he was upright and mobile before he could allow her comments to sink in. He was out the door and across the walk, still in his outfit from the night before, getting glances from the newly arrived tourists as he marched passed in his kilt. He’d fought so hard not to blurt out his heart the night before. Yet, he’d made a fool of himself standing in the airport, thinking her tears meant she felt the same way - and she’d looked at him like he was some celebrity stalker you hear about on the tele. What a fucking twat?

  Tell me ye wet your willy last night!

  Barry’s text startled him halfway across the road. He glanced down, hoping it was Georgia, and felt almost irritated with Barry to find that it wasn’t.

  Get tae fuck, he responded.

  Barry texted back instantly. Is that a yes? No? For fuck’s sake, where you been all night?

  The sound of a car honking startled him. He was standing like an idiot in the middle of the crosswalk. He ignored the rest of Barry’s texts and made his way into the parking garage, and climbed into the back of the black sedan, pulling out his phone.

  He wondered how much of a twat he’d be if he texted his actual thoughts – I miss you already. Call me later, I want to hear your American accent. I think I’m in love with you.

  He shuddered in embarrassment and didn’t say any of these things.

  Text me when you land so I know you’re safe. Talk to you soon.

  Then he leaned back in his seat and stared out the window, watching the planes take off from the runway as they left the airport.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Why did I say that, Cassie? Why did I say that?”

  The plane was beginning its decent into London, and Georgia was still stewing over those last words she’d said to Garrett – ‘What if I don’t want you to?’

  She hadn’t meant them as a refusal. What she’d wanted to say was, ‘Yes! Please!’ or ‘What if I move to Edinburgh?’ Yet neither of those things came out of her mouth, and when it was time to clarify, she mumbled like a jackass with marbles in her mouth.

  “Gigi, it’s fine. You’re fine. Just text him when we land, tell him what you meant,” Cassie said, chewing impatiently on her packet of pretzels. She hated pretzels. The only thing Cassie hated more than pretzels was flying. “Why don’t you pull out your laptop? Get some writing done. It might take your mind off the guy for a while.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Georgia sat there, staring out her window at the quilted landscape of Britain. They were only twenty minutes from London now, taking out her laptop would be useless. Cassie was too concerned with her pretzels to realize.

  “Are you still having trouble? Writing?”

  Georgia took a deep breath, and nodded. She hadn’t written more than a few words since she met Garrett MacCauley. Every time she sat down to finish the third book, she saw Garrett’s face. Douglas MacCready no longer hovered in a strange, dark haired, green eyed oblivion – now she felt like she knew what the stubble of his beard felt like after two days without a shave. She felt as though she was betraying Garrett’s secrets every time she wrote. What little detail of Douglas MacCready would Garrett share next – the green eyes? Check. The Scottish accent? Check. An ass slapper? A resounding check. The middle name, the lost mother, the town he was from, the scar on his right hand – what detail would she pull from mid-air next, only to discover it true of the man she was falling in love wi –

  Stop, she thought. Don’t say that.

  Georgia sighed. “Yes, sadly.”

  “Why?” Cass asked, a tiny speck of pretzel flying from her mouth and sticking to the seat back in front of her. She covered her mouth embarrassed, wiping the seat. “You still worried something is gonna happen?”

  Georgia gave her a sheepish look. She’d explained her strange phenomenon to Cassie long ago. Sarah Elise knew, even Burgess knew. They’d all nodded and humored her to the best of their ability. After a few months, or even weeks of knowing her, they witnessed it for themselves. No one was just humoring her anymore.

  Still, Cassie was the only one among them who had met Garrett now.

  “He has the scar on his right hand,” Georgia said, near exasperated. “What the hell is going on?”

  Samantha could relate to this trouble. Could take a month, could take a year, but whatever it was Samantha proclaimed, it would come true. The problem was neither of them could control it. They never knew which random detail they scribbled or squabbled that would come to bite them in the ass. And who knew whether this time would be any different than the last? Walter was a green eyed kilt wearer as well.

  “Yeah, but he was also a scum bag. Douglas MacCready isn’t,” Cass had said when she heard this argument.

  “Well, I didn’t know he was a scum bag until -”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, you did. That guy was useless long before your Nana. And you said it yourself, you’ll never waste your time on a man who doesn’t show up, again.”

  Georgia leaned her head back against her seat as the pressure in her ears began to build. “And yet, I took off for Inverness the second we landed.”

  Cassie stuffed the last pretzel in her mouth. “Well, you have to do what’s right for you. If going to see him was what you needed to do, even if it turned out he was a dick bag, too -”

  An older woman jerked in the seat in front of them, eyeing Georgia through the space between the seats. Georgia displayed her palms in apology, but Cassie leaned in, making eye contact with the disgruntled woman as she continued.

  “- you still did what was right for you. Dick bag or no.” The woman huffed, turning forward again. “You’d rather know, wouldn’t you? Rather than spend your life wondering.”

  Georgia inhaled, slowly. Cassie had very Samantha-like moments. “Yes, I would.”

  “And as you write in your books; soul mates find their way to one another. Always. Maybe you were pulled to Inverness because he really is Douglas MacCready.”

  That’s not helping, she thought. “But he wasn’t there.”

  Cassie tossed her pretzel wrapper on the floor and groaned. “Yeah, because he was busy trying to find you.”

  Georgia glanced out the window, fighting the hopeful thoughts she felt when she thought of Garrett, sitting in silence outside the Writers’ Museum, just at the right time for her to find him. Just at the right time, in all of Edinburgh, in all of Scotland – in all of the world, they found each other again. It had to mean something, right?

  “God, it all sounds like one of my books.”

  Cassie smiled, squeezing the arm rest as Heathrow drew up beneath them. “Hell yeah, wonder why. That’s why everyone loves you so much. Restore people’s faith in love and all that nonsense.”

  And all that nonsense, Georgia thought.