Friction

by Jamie Magee

  Now Georgia was really curious and had no idea what this had to do with her.

  “The house I had back then was barely worth fifteen grand at best. All I could afford after coming home from the service, but it had land on it, land I figured I could make use of. Long story short, the lady at the bank told me if I only gave up a portion of the land to the city to dig a well, they would pay me for it. Made no sense to me because the bank already claimed the house, but she pulled some strings, talked to a few people, and made it work. Changed my whole life. Ended up selling the whole deal years later, built my own real estate business off the profits.”

  Georgia only smiled politely, assuming this was one of the tales elders liked to pass on to younger generations.

  “I’ve been trying to pay back Marie Armstrong every chance I can get. Stubborn woman. I’ve tried to put every one of her kids and grandkids in a home at a steal, and she’s refused until the likes of you. Let me repay her now.”

  A warm chill spread over Georgia. She could have sworn she felt tears welling in her eyes. At this point, she felt like if she didn’t buy this home she was going to be struck by lightning.

  “I really don’t know what to say…”

  Right about then, someone who must have been Henry walked in with Judith in tow. “There you are, son. We have a deal. Now let’s wade through this loan business. The inspections from the last almost sale are only a week old so they should hold up.”

  Georgia glanced to her phone, taking in the time and feeling the reality of this move press down on her shoulders. “I have an obligation. Maybe we can do this on Monday?”

  “We’ll be quick about it,” Randal said. “We at least need to get the approvals moving in the right direction. I can call your brother and tell him you’re running late while you talk with Henry.”

  “Oh, no,” Georgia said quickly. “I’d rather keep this my secret until it’s all said and done.” Meaning she was not telling him until she was sure she was not going to chicken out on this deal.

  “Your private business is safe with us,” Randal said as he shifted a warning glance to Judith Shaw who squirmed a bit on her feet.

  “Of course, until the sale is final and of public record,” Judith said, as if she’d never breathe a word. Georgia would bet this house she’d already sent a text to someone about the deal. Hopefully, the news would take time to get to Memphis.

  Georgia had figured out the hard way that her math and rounding up and down were not as on point as she’d like them to be. Even with the house discounted to the point where you would think it would fall down at any second and the five figures she was willing to put down, at the end of the day there would still be a note. One that was near double what she paid at the hotel. That was enough to make her want to pass out, especially when she considered all those bills she’d never had before, like ones for Wi-Fi and electricity and water… Do they make you pay for water? she wondered. Of course they do, she chided herself.

  Had she lost her mind? Yes, she had, she decided. She’d get out of this; somehow it would fall through.

  She could hear the music from the pub as she rounded the corner, the laughter of people she didn’t recognize outside, those that had had a few drinks already.

  I need a drink. A glass of wine. No, a bottle…

  She pushed into the pub and made her way to the bar.

  Chapter Seven

  Easton Ballantine was readying for his shot on the back pool table. As he leaned his massive, lean muscled body over the table, a warm hum slid over his body and his heart rate kicked up like a call had just come in, as if he were charging into a room encased in vengeful flames.

  His green eyes lifted to the door just in time to see that goddess they had passed earlier today stomping into the pub as if she owned the place. He missed his shot. Meaning the cue ball ricocheted off the table all together, causing all his fire hall buddies to rip loose the ragging that he couldn’t hear as he watched every movement of her body glide across the floor to the bar. This can’t be happening, he thought to himself.

  Georgia made it to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, not caring what brand it was, and gulped it like it was a shot then set the glass down, feeling the poison ease down her shoulders. Her blue eyes lifted as if someone had called her name. The pub was filled with people corner to corner, but across the room in the middle of a loud group of mouthwatering men, a stare caught hers. Easton’s.

  He was still looking right through her, like he didn’t know her. All that did was tick her off. Yet, her body put forth the same intoxicating reaction as before—an adrenaline surfacing, heart thundering and breath escaping reaction.

  The very sight of him and his disarming gaze, caused her to rock back on her heels, or maybe that was the wine rushing to her gut.

  You were right, Easton, you do need a warning label, she thought as she looked away.

  Easton was absolutely dumbfounded. Those eyes, there was no way in hell two people on this planet could have the same eyes. And there was no way he could hope to have any restraint if he came face to face with Georgia Armstrong once more.

  So why did he find himself walking toward her as if they were the only ones in this room, as if gravity were demanding that he do just that?

  Because he wanted to prove to himself it wasn’t Georgia, that’s why. He wanted to stop himself from falling for the idea of her all over again.

  No more than a second later, a cold anger laced in jealousy settled deep in Easton’s gut as he watched Truman walk right up to Georgia and put his arm around her.

  Easton knew himself, knew his temper, knew that Truman had one, too. With as twisted as Easton’s head had been that day, he didn’t trust himself not be an ass, to start something just because he was in the mood.

  Not Georgia, couldn’t be, he told himself as he adjusted his course to head outside rather than towards the bar and Georgia. He had to get outside to fresh air where he could get his head straight.

  “Harley told me I couldn’t hit on you. But she didn’t say we couldn’t dance,” Truman said as he winked at Georgia.

  Georgia stepped back, wondering who this boy was. She knew him, she just couldn’t place from where.

  “Truman, what the hell are you doing?” Memphis said as he came up and pulled Georgia into a hug.

  “Not hitting on Georgia as I was previously instructed by my soon to be sister-in-law.”

  “You’d be a wise man to listen to her,” Memphis said with a playful scowl. “You just gotta overlook him, he’s the baby of the group,” Memphis said to Georgia.

  “Hey now,” Truman protested. He then tilted his head slightly. “Dance?” he said to Georgia.

  “Working, but thank you.”

  “Go prowl somewhere else, boy, before you test my patience. This is not a line to cross,” Memphis said, still holding a grin and that playful glare.

  Truman raised his hands. “Got it, boss man.” Just to push Memphis’s button he winked at Georgia once more as he walked away.

  “Where have you been?” Memphis asked.

  “Just a long walk,” Georgia said as she found herself looking all over the place for Easton.

  He’d left. Damn him.

  “A four-hour walk?” Memphis pressed.

  “Was it that long?” she said, sipping the second glass of wine the bartender had put down next to her. “Where’s the rehearsal group?” she asked, looking for a room that might connect to this place. This was not what she had in mind. She assumed it would be casual because it was at a pub, but from the looks of this place you would think it was St. Paddy’s day.

  “All around you.”

  “You’re joking?”

  Memphis laughed and shook his head as he pulled his long neck to his lips. “I told you Harley was laid back. That tea party was to appease her momma. This is just a party to settle the nerves. There will be plenty of time to catch formal images tomorrow.”

  “So you don’t need me here?” Georgia
asked, only to catch another teasing glower.

  Right about then, Harley found Georgia and pulled her away. Telling her she wanted a few shots with her bridesmaids. Who were acting like this was more of a bachelorette party than a dinner. Not drunk, Georgia decided, just happy.

  Georgia caught the images that she would want to remember if this were her day; the way the Wyatt put his arm around Harley, the kiss he would steal, the way their hands met, the whispered conversations between the girls, the friends in this pub. All the friends except Easton, that is.

  She almost dared to ask Wyatt where all his groomsmen were so she could get carefree images of them. She figured the wine in her system would help her get through it.

  Before she found her nerve, Memphis pulled her to the back of the pub to meet the rest of the boys in his firehouse.

  They all shook her hand and gave her a sweet nod. She was sure they hated her, though. All the rambunctious laughter seized right up when she walked over to them. She felt like a principal standing in a boys locker room. All of them were built like Memphis, around his age, and would steal the breath of any member of the female population.

  She moved back into the shadows and caught a few shots of the game they were playing, wanting nothing more than to vanish away with her thoughts.

  ***

  For the last hour and a half, Easton had stayed outside talking to a few of the boys he knew from school, a few from the volunteer fire department. He had stopped nursing his beer, finished it, and downed another. Furious at himself for not being able to get that girl out his head, for how he’d merged her and Georgia into one. Thinking about her made him think about how his hands glided over Georgia that one night. How she’d broken him and given him life at once—it made him think about where that touch could’ve led if circumstances had been different. If this was another life.

  When he saw Memphis step out of the pub as if he were specifically hunting someone, Easton leaned back against the wall. He couldn’t look him in the eye when his head was on Georgia, never could. He thought about telling Memphis ten times over about how he took Georgia out that one night, just to get it off his chest…just to see if Memphis would react the way Wyatt did and punch him square in the jaw.

  That was before of course, before Easton’s life changed irrevocably.

  “There you are,” Memphis said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Look, man, I know you are not one for the social scene, but you’re going to have to quit dodging the camera. Especially since you’re in a jacket tonight.”

  Easton was in a suit jacket and button down shirt, along with slacks. Not his usual get up. He was either in uniform or had his jeans on most days, but the rest of the guys dressed up, so he figured what the hell.

  “Didn’t realize we were being documented,” Easton said dryly, pulling his beer to his lips.

  “Yep, yep. I still can’t believe Georgia agreed to do it. I’m in Harley’s debt.”

  Easton nearly choked on his beer, but he managed to swallow it. “Georgia…” Fuck that IS her!

  Memphis’s dark stare gave Easton a slow once over. He didn’t fail to notice the reverence Easton used when he said her name.

  “Yeah, all grown up now.”

  Obviously, Easton thought to himself. “The road will do that to you.”

  “I’m trying to get her off of it. She’s not with that loser anymore. No sense in moving ‘round when she can work from home.”

  It felt like a weight had been lifted from Easton’s shoulders, one he didn’t even know he was carrying. “They split?”

  Memphis held his stare, hesitated a second before he answered. “Yeah, ‘bout a year ago.”

  Easton looked down at his bottle. The last year of his life had been a whirlwind. He hadn’t notice much about the world around him, but he knew he would have remembered that news.

  “Good to know,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Is it?” Memphis asked, lifting his chin.

  “She’s too good for that guy.”

  “Definitely not a guy I would have handpicked for her.”

  It must have been the beers, otherwise Easton would’ve hesitated or not even bothered to speak his next words, instead, he smirked. “And who would you handpick for her?”

  Memphis’s gaze glinted. “Someone my dad would’ve liked.”

  Easton lifted his eyes to judge Memphis’s expression, but right then a girl that he was known to hang around stepped outside the pub. She leaned up, taking Memphis’s lips like they were her air. “You ready to bail?” she asked.

  “I told you my sister is here,” he said, kissing her back.

  “My place,” the girl said to Memphis as she moved her hands across him.

  Memphis groaned as if that were too tempting to turn down. “Come meet my sister first. If she wants to go home, I’m going to go with her. If she’s cool, then maybe we can duck out for a minute.”

  Agreeing, the girl pulled him in.

  Easton stood there wondering if he and Memphis had just had some kind of coded conversation. If he knew. It was possible. More than once Wyatt had caught Easton with the picture of Georgia. He wasn’t one to run his mouth, but they were all close.

  One time on a call Easton’s wallet had fallen out of the place he stashed it on the truck. Memphis had leaned down and picked it up, along with the picture that was sliding out. But he was on the radio, giving out orders, and as far as Easton could tell he didn’t see it.

  Knowing for sure that was Georgia, Easton thought back to this afternoon, even tonight. He couldn’t recall seeing any recognition in her eyes. That burned him because as far as he knew he hadn’t changed on the outside in the last few years.

  Maybe the road, that SOB she was with had changed her. Maybe their one night on the river had a bigger impact on him than her. He cursed under his breath, feeling like a total girl for even thinking that.

  He knew the only way he was going to get this girl out of his head was to see if she was different now, to know it was circumstance that brought them together in the past, nothing more. As he finished his beer, he thought of exactly how he could do so.

  ***

  Georgia had just about given up on this so-called rehearsal dinner when Memphis strolled up to her with a pretty little blonde in tow. All she could do was give him a knowing smile. Her brother always had someone in the wings. She never counted them as serious until she knew their names, and it had been years since he’d mentioned one to her.

  “Little bit, this is Ashley.” No title, Georgia noted as she shook the girl’s hand. Clearly noticing the girl must have thought that Memphis was a wall by the way she was leaning on him.

  “Hey,” Georgia said, just like she’d said to the other hundred people he’d introduced her to tonight.

  “Having fun?” Memphis asked.

  “A blast,” Georgia said in her most conniving tone ever.

  “I was going to give Ashley a ride home, but if you’re ready I can find her one.”

  Sure he was. “You’re good. I told you I was having fun. I know how to get back to your house if I decide to leave before you get back.”

  “Sure?” he asked again, sliding the blonde behind him so Georgia had his full attention. Something was off about his kid sister, that much he knew. She was always a little cagey in big crowds, clung to the wall, but tonight her mind seemed to be a million miles away.

  “Yeah, I mean,” she said, nodding to the door where the Harley and the bridesmaids were leaving, “I think the work part of my night is over. I want to mingle a bit, then go home and edit what images I got from the tea party and tonight.”

  “I can be back in an hour, hour and a half tops,” Memphis promised.

  “Stay the night, brother.”

  Memphis shook off a blush. “I’ll bring home ice cream, help you edit or whatever.”

  She waved him off.

  As soon as Memphis left the pub, Georgia made her way to the corner of the bar. She was dying for a smo
ke but wanted to pack her stuff away before she hiked it home.

  The all-too-nice bartender saw her coming and had a fresh glass of wine waiting on her. He told her it was on the house.

  This would be glass three, normally way past her limit. But oddly she could still remember signing her name to the loan papers, which kept sobering her up.

  She’d transferred the images from her camera to her tablet so she could pack it away and do a little editing while she found a way to slide the last glass of wine down.

  Georgia was biting her lip. Something she usually did when she was lost in her work, when a deep voice vibrated right down to her core, flashing a fever across her skin before she even glanced up.

  “Not that you care, but there are no answers in that glass.”

  Wait a second, is that not exactly what I said to him when I found him alone in the graveyard? Now he remembers me? Georgia tensed and glanced to her side, and quickly decided she was an idiot for any hope at all that she registered on Easton’s memory radar. His gaze was slowly moving over her. Nope, she thought. He’s just checking me out, fresh meat that rolled into town.

  Yeah, she was going to need her armor this weekend, truly. She felt seventeen all over again. Hurt, out of place, and confused.

  “I’m working, not socializing,” she said as she started to close down her tablet. Hoping the pub was loud enough that he couldn’t hear just how unsteady her tone really was. “Are you a part of this wedding deal?” she asked, not daring to look up at him.

  Did she really not recognize me? Easton thought. Talk about a blow to a man’s fucking ego. Then again, he was sure he saw her hands tremble, he noticed her breath hitch—her blush. Nope, she’s avoiding me. Awesome.

  He decided to play along with her ruse. “Good friend of the groom.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure I get an image or two of you for him,” Georgia said as evenly as she could, finally looking up at him. It took all she had but she kept the distant look in her expression, even though on the inside she was anything but calm.