by Meghan Quinn
I melt right there on the spot, my stomach fluttering with a million butterflies. How did I get so lucky? How did he look past my walls and see what he sees?
“You’re an amazing man, Racer.” And I’m so glad you’re mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
RACER
“Look at him, he’s all fidgety and nervous looking. How cute,” Smalls says from behind me.
“I know. It’s good to see him shiver in his boots for once.” Tucker laughs.
“Kind of want to shove a Zebra Cake down his throat just to calm him down.”
“Nah, it’s good to see him like this, almost like he’s about to piss himself.”
“Can you two fuck heads shut up?” I grit out as I start to pace the length of my kitchen. Voices trail in from the backyard of my home where I’ve set up a fire pit, brews, and lawn chairs. “I don’t need you working me up even more.”
“Do you realize, whenever we’re nervous, you sit back and poke the fire?” Tucker points out.
I hold up my hand. “I’m fucking aware. And you know I can dish it but I can’t take it, so either leave or come fluff my nuts, because I’m about to be fucking sick here.”
“Dude, you’ve been together for two weeks now. She’s cool.”
Smalls is right, Georgie is cool, but she’s never seen this side of me. She’s never been to my place in the two weeks that we’ve been officially together. It’s made being together interesting, that’s for sure. We’ve had some “late nights” at the shop, breaking in different counter space and making sure the walls are sturdy.
But tonight is the first night she’s coming here, to my empty space, where I live with bare minimums.
“She’s going to look at this place and laugh,” I say, voicing my fears. “Fuck, I don’t even have curtains. Shouldn’t I have curtains? Should I hang up a flannel shirt or something? Make it look like there is something there?”
“That’s some tacky shit,” Smalls says. “Don’t hang anything up. You’re good, man. She’s going to love your place.”
“Dude, she grew up in a mansion. I’ve been in her house. They have marble fucking floors. Marble fucking floors!” I pull on the strands of my hair as I begin to pace again.
“And yet, she still talks to us lame peasants. Imagine that,” Tucker deadpans. “Come on, man, you’re the first person to tell us she’s nothing like her family, so why freak out now? The way I see it, she’s going to love everything about this house because it represents who you are and the relationship you had with your dad. It’s built from love, sweat, and camaraderie. She’s going to sense that the minute she walks in. Don’t doubt her. And for fuck’s sake go change your shirt, your armpits are all nasty with sweat.”
“Fuck.” I lift my arm and see the giant sweat stains under my arm. “Shit, that’s ugly.”
“It really is. Go change.” I walk away when Smalls calls out, “But maybe leave the shirt, we can try to pin it up as a valance.” His smirk causes me to flip him off, which only makes him and Tucker laugh. Assholes.
Making quick time, I jog to my room, change out my light blue shirt for a white one with a dark green pocket—some fancy shit there, look out, Cam from Modern Family—check my hair in the mirror to make sure I didn’t make a wreck of it, and head back out into the grand room just in time to see Smalls open the door for Georgie.
From a distance, I get to see her initial reaction and fuck if it doesn’t hit me in the chest. She looks at the cathedral ceilings her mouth agape and stars in her eyes. She’s in awe? “Gosh, it’s beautiful in here.”
They’re her first words and they’re simple, but they cause me to fall for this woman just a little bit more.
When I make myself known, Smalls just gives me an I told you so look, grabs his beer in the kitchen, then heads off into the backyard with the rest of the guests. Tucker joins him.
“Hey,” I greet her lamely with my hands stuffed in my pockets, feeling shy as fuck.
“Hey Racer.” She gives me one of her gorgeous smiles and walks toward me in a pair of tiny shorts and a thin, flowy tank top that’s showing off too much cleavage for her to be seen in public. Fucking vixen.
When she reaches me, she wraps her arms around my waist and stands on her toes to give me a kiss. I grant her one but then tug on her shirt, it doesn’t move up.
“What are you doing?” She chuckles.
“You’re showing too much tit.”
“I am not.”
“You are. I can see your nipple.”
She looks down at her shirt and then back up at me with a twist to her mouth. “Did you develop X-ray vision overnight that I’m unaware of?”
“I did.”
“Stop it.” She laughs and swats at me. “My shirt is fine.”
“People are going to stare.”
She shrugs. “Let them, you’re the one I’ll be straddling tonight, and that’s all that should matter to you.”
And fuck. I’m hard. What’s new around this woman?
She scans the room and says, “Are you going to give me a tour or am I going to have to show myself around?”
“Depends, did you bring an overnight bag with you?”
“I have my toothbrush in my purse, no need for clothes because I plan on being naked all night.” She winks and walks down the hallway toward my bedroom, her fingers running along the walls. “The woodwork is beautiful.” The girl has class and an incredible eye for beauty and detail, so her opinion really matters to me.
I can think of something a hell of a lot more beautiful than the damn woodwork, and it’s shaking away from me in a pair of tiny denim shorts.
Fuck me.
***
“These chicken wings are so freaking good.” Georgie cleans off the bone in her hand and drops it on her plate in front of her. Barbeque sauce is covering her face as she licks her fingers, and oddly, it’s adorable to watch. My girl knows how to eat off the bone, something I should be very pleased about.
Thankfully, Tucker and Smalls brought over food to grill, because they’re fucking amazing friends like that. I had a few bags of chips and it was a BYOB deal because to hell if I could afford for everyone to drink beer. Not going to happen. Georgie brought the ingredients for s’mores, giving us a proper campfire dessert. She’s so damn cute.
“Need a wet nap there, George?”
She shakes her head. “Who needs a wet nap when I can lick my fingers clean?” Seductively she starts sucking on her finger and I take about three seconds of that bullshit before I pop her finger out of her mouth.
“Act like the lady you were taught to be,” I tease. “Use a napkin for Christ’s sake. I’m getting hard just watching you do that.”
She giggles and starts wiping her fingers off with a napkin.
“I kind of liked it,” Adalyn chimes in. “It’s fun watching you squirm, Racer.” Apparently that’s the popular consensus tonight among my friends.
“Watch it, you don’t want to offend him. He’s a sensitive bear tonight,” Smalls says, wrapping his arm around Adalyn.
“I’m not sensitive, just aware of my feelings.”
Tucker snorts from the side where Emma sits on his lap. The only ones left are Georgie, Emma, Tucker, Adalyn, Smalls, and my friend Hayden, who plays hockey professionally. He’s rather quiet, like usual, just taking everyone in.
Tucker clears his throat and says, “Georgiana, did Racer tell you he made me propose to him to be my best man at my wedding?” Of course. It’s rag time. I see how this night is going to go. Fair enough.
“Or did he tell you about the time he cried when he was watching The Bachelor because the girl he wanted to win wasn’t handed a flower?” Smalls adds. Fucking Raven should have been proposed to! Nick, what an idiot.
“Or how about the time he ate a plastic cupcake from a kid’s play set because he thought it was a Little Debbie snack?” Adalyn asks. Booze will do that to you.
“Hey, that shit looked real, and it was dark,” I
say, attempting to defend myself. It’s not my fault Fisher Price makes legit-looking food items.
“What about the time he was so upset he wasn’t able to finish spelling out his name in the snow because he ran out of pee?” Hayden shakes his head, piping in now, of course. “Always get the twenty-ounce, man. Always the twenty-ounce.”
Aren’t these assholes a good time?
“I was unaware.” Georgie hides behind her smile with a napkin. I can see mischief in her eyes. “Seems like he gets upset a lot. Which makes sense since he cried in bed in the Hamptons because he forgot to say ‘Mother, may I?’ after I told him to lick my nipple. You face the consequences when you don’t play the game right.”
Everyone around us erupts in laughter as I purse my lips.
Fucking Mother, may I? She wishes she was in charge. That will never happen. I own her in the bedroom.
“Laugh it up, dickheads.” They don’t stop, so of course, I slip on my immature pants and give them a taste of their own medicine. “Tucker used to brush a plastic unicorn’s hair before he went to bed every night because he said it soothed him.”
“Dude!”
“Smalls once wore heels and said they made him feel pretty.”
“My legs felt sexy,” he says.
“Adalyn can queef on demand. She’s actually doing it right now; that’s her queefing face.” Everyone turns to her as she shoots daggers at me. I’m really not sorry about that one.
“Hayden went through a box of condoms before he figured out how to put one on.”
Hayden just shrugs. “They were too small for my giant dick.”
“And Georgie here”—she stares me down, waiting to hear what I have to reveal—“squirts.”
“Racer!” She slaps me in the arm which makes me laugh . . . hard. Looking around the camp, she pleads to the group. “I do not squirt, there is no way in hell I ever could, not with the below-average orgasms Racer delivers. Really a three-point-five.”
I stand quickly. “It’s a solid nine-point-five and you know it.”
“What’s the point five knock for?” Hayden asks, looking more alive now.
“Couldn’t find the landing zone initially.”
“Lies!” I raise my arms in the air. “All fucking lies. Spread your legs, I will find the landing zone no problem. Come on, spread them.” I get my fingers ready.
Laughter erupts around me. This is crap. I gather empty bottles and plates and announce, “This night is over. I demand you leave at once.”
“Come on, man, stop being a little bitch.” Tucker nods toward the fire. “Enjoy the night and be happy you have a girl who will stick around even when you lie about her squirting.”
Everyone agrees with Tucker, which annoys me even more, but reluctantly I sit down and pull Georgie onto my lap. She wraps her arm around my neck and kisses the side of my head.
“I still think you’re handsome when you’re all in a tizzy.” She ruffles my hair and kisses me again.
I melt right into her side as everyone starts talking about Emma and Tucker’s wedding. Georgie chimes in with excitement, mentioning all the discounts she can get them and how excited she is to have Emma come in and be her very first client.
I sit back and watch as Georgie very easily slips into my group of mismatched friends. I get why I thought we were so different at first, but right now, with her sitting on my lap relating easily with my friends, it’s like she was made to be with me, like all the puzzle pieces in my life are finally starting to fall into place. I never knew I’d want that. Or find that.
It couldn’t be more perfect.
***
“This room is magical.” Georgie is resting in my arms, her bare chest against my side as her fingers dance across my pecs. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you built the entire house with your dad.”
I admire the tall ceilings covered in old barn wood, giving the room a very rustic feel. I remember nailing those into the ceiling. I wasn’t happy about it, more annoyed actually because it was tedious, time-consuming, and having to constantly stare at the ceiling to ensure everything was straight, my neck ached. All I wanted to do was quit, throw in the towel, and tell my dad I was done, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead, he lectured me about the small things, about paying attention to detail, and putting my hands to work to create something of beauty, something unique.
I’m glad I stuck it out, because looking at the ceiling now, I’m not only reminded of that day, the day my dad made me grit down and prevail, but I’m reminded of the beautiful craftsmanship my dad put into every project he took on. His attention to detail is something I’ve taken on myself. If he wouldn’t do something half-assed, neither will I. He would love Georgie. Her tenacity, her vitality and passion. God, I miss him sometimes, and now is one of those times. I want him to hug my girl, tell her how proud he is of her, and pass on one of his many time-learned wisdoms. I want him to laugh with her and applaud her drive.
“It was an honor to build it with him,” I answer. “Don’t get me wrong. I had days where I wanted nothing to do with this house, but every day was a new day, and then watching my father slowly deteriorate in front of me, I knew I had to soak up every last moment I had with him, even if I wanted to rebel and do something other than work on the house.”
“Can I ask about your mom? Was she around?”
“Nah, I shake my head. She divorced my dad a while ago. She lives in the Florida Keys where she sings at different local joints. She’s not good enough to go anywhere, but good enough to appease the drunks. She’s happy.”
“Oh, do you ever see her?”
“Not really. She calls me on my birthday and holidays but that’s it. I’m not upset about it. I would rather her be upfront about not wanting to be a mom than pretending and making an ass of herself. I know she’s there if I really need something, but it’s better this way.”
“That’s sad.”
“I accepted it a long time ago. Not all women are maternal. I have Tucker and Smalls; they’re my family. And I guess Emma, who dotes on me like a mom would. I would rather have family by heart when they’re interested in me as a person, rather than family by blood who just pretends. You know?”
“Makes sense.” She pauses and rubs her cheek against my chest as I play with her long hair. “My mom pretends and I hate it, so I understand where you’re coming from. You almost wish they wouldn’t try, because when they want to pull the parent card it’s hard to listen to them; it’s hard to take them seriously.”
“So true.” I take a deep breath and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry your parents are shitheads. You deserve more.”
She chuckles. “They really are shitheads, aren’t they?”
“They are; it’s surprising you’re not a shithead yourself.”
She playfully pinches my side. “Gee, thanks a lot.”
“Hey, that was a compliment.” I squeeze her closer. “I’m glad you’re here, Georgie.”
“I’m glad you finally invited me.”
“I know. To be honest, I was freaking out right before you got here. The boys had to calm me down.”
“Why were you freaking out?” She lifts up from my chest to look me in my eyes.
Wanting to feel her, I caress her cheek, loving the way her soft skin feels under my touch. “I was kind of ashamed that I don’t have much in the house. I had to sell so many things when my father passed because I needed the money. I kept the bare minimum and haven’t really been able to replace what I lost.” I pause and bite the corner of my lip. “You come from extravagance, so I guess I was just ashamed.”
“Racer.” She climbs on top of my lap, her naked body rubbing against mine, causing all kinds of things to dance inside me. “None of that matters to me. What matters is who you are as a person, how you’re respected, and how you carry yourself. Yes, you’re a smart-ass most of the time and drive me crazy every chance you can, but you’re sweet and full of heart.”
“Heart, huh?”
That means a lot to me, but I think she has that the wrong way around. This girl has broken out of the boundaries that served to constrain her. She could have been the snobby, spoiled bitch I initially thought she was. She could have had the douche prep boy to dine and woo her, providing her with the extravagance she was accustomed to. But, no. She’s more real than I expected, and I’m still fucking amazed when she sticks by me. She gets me.
“It’s you with the beautiful heart, George. But you need to know something about me. You’re mine now, and since you’re in my little circle, I will do anything for you. Anything. It’s hard to get in my circle, but once you’re in, you’re protected.”
“And that’s something I will never take for granted.”
Her lips meet mine, spiking my arousal in seconds. Fuck, I can’t get enough of this woman, this painfully suppressed, strong-willed, beautiful woman.
Chapter Twenty-Two
RACER
When I worked on projects with my Dad, he would tell me to take a moment, to step back and to appreciate the hard work I’ve put in with my own two hands. He always told me it’s a subtle reminder of what I’m capable of.
The shop is silent with Georgie out getting dinner for the both of us so it gives me a chance to reflect.
I take it all in, from the refinished floors, to the crown molding, to the custom-built shelves I’m finishing. It’s impeccable. I’m damn proud, and I’m damn proud of the girl who’s put this all together. She’s the one with the vision; I’ve just followed her plan. Well, and I’ve added my two cents where I’ve needed to.
We have some painting left to do and some final touches like doorknobs then we should be good, ready for her to start filling the store with stock. And it’s a lot. When I was having dinner with her, Waverly, and Abe the other night, she showed me everything she’s been hoarding, and I was seriously impressed. This girl is ready and I couldn’t be prouder.
