Page 301 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

GEORGIA

“More garlic bread?” Drew asked, holding up the cutting board by the handle.

I took a piece because… garlic bread and set it on my plate.

“Thank you.”

Drew was across from me. I had a feeling he knew what we’d been up to in the laundry room, especially since we didn’t return with any dish towels, but he didn’t say anything.

Andy was on my left eating a meatball off of the end of his fork.

He didn’t say anything either, but the mind of a six-year-old was thankfully easily swayed by his favorite meal.

His mouth was ringed with marinara sauce and there was a drip of it on his shirt.

On my right was Mac. He’d plowed through his plate of spaghetti and was poking at a cucumber slice in his salad.

His knee bumped mine beneath the table. He hadn’t said a word since he finally returned from the laundry room, a full five minutes after me.

I needed some time to get myself pulled together after those kisses, but I wasn’t given any.

I’d had to go back into the kitchen and face Andy and Drew with a lust haze and wet panties.

Fortunately, that pageant facade of perfection paid off.

I pasted on a smile and let Andy do all the talking. Still…

That kiss! Those hands! That ass grab!

Since when did I tell a guy it’s not the palm of my hand I want you eating out? Where was the Georgia who’d been dumped by her ex for a younger, slimmer, fertile option? Was it being away from my regularly scheduled life that made me bold? Was it Mac?

Maybe it was the fact that he’d brought up my toy submarine/vibrator earlier. He needed a little payback.

Except now I was sitting beside a guy who didn’t know if he wanted to strangle me or fuck me sideways.

“Tell us about yourself, Georgia,” Drew said, offering a glance at Mac, who’d remained silent all through the meal. “Family back in Georgia?”

“It’s funny you’re named after a state,” Andy said on a giggle.

I gave him an indulgent smile, then answered Drew’s question. “I have a mother and a sister, who is married and has two kids.”

“You’re an uncle?” Andy asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“Aunt,” I corrected. “Tommy and Sally Ann are five and three.”

“Do they like to sled?” Andy asked.

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really snow very much in Calhan. That’s the little town where I’m from. I’m not even sure if they’ve ever seen it.”

“Never seen snow?” Andy’s eyes were wide, as if the concept was ridiculous. Since it was April and it was still on the ground here, I had to wonder if Andy ever didn’t see snow.

“Nope.”

“Does your mom let you stay up late?” he asked, then gave his father a little kid glare. “I can’t stay up past eight.”

“Georgia’s a grown up,” Mac reminded.

All I could do was stare at Mac’s mouth that had been on mine. Firm yet soft. That mustache. I’d never been kissed by anyone with one before. I thought it’d be scratchy, but it was soft. It added another dimension to kissing and had to wonder what it would feel like sliding across my inner thighs.

“She doesn’t live with her mother,” he added.

“Actually,” I began. My throat was suddenly dry so I took a sip of my sparkling apple juice. The bubbles tickled my tongue and it was really sweet. “The past few months I’ve lived with my mother.”

“Is she unwell?” Drew asked, his question more concerned than probing. It made more sense that she might be sick and need help instead of a thirty-five-year-old woman moving into her childhood bedroom because her life fell apart.

I shook my head. “She’s fine. While my divorce was finalized six months ago, our house is still for sale, so I don’t have my share of the profits from that yet. So I moved back home.”

I didn’t tell them that I was pretty much broke.

Art had been the breadwinner for the two of us.

I had my car. Some retirement socked away.

But quitting didn’t help, and pageant coaching wasn’t raking in the cash.

My half of the house sale would help, but I wanted to put it toward buying another place, although solo it would only be an apartment.

And if I didn’t have a job, then getting a mortgage would be impossible and–

“This ‘vorce and home stuff sounds boring,” Andy said, breaking me from my depressing thoughts. He finished his meal and had been sitting quietly listening. “May I be excused?”

Mac nodded. “Math homework,” he ordered.

Andy’s little shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes as if it was the worst thing in the world. “But–”

“Let me know what Miss Mornay says tomorrow when you tell her it’s not done,” Mac said, calm as could be.

Andy’s lips pinched closed. He climbed from his chair and carried his plate over to the counter, then ran out of the room.

“I heard about the calendar idea,” Drew said. “I think it’s great.”

Mac made a funny sound, like a growl, or it could have been a burp.

His father ignored him. “Did you do a calendar like this back in Georgia?”

I shook my head and glanced at Mac, waiting for him to tell me the idea was stupid.

“You don’t have experience with it?” Mac asked, eyes raised. His voice wasn’t hostile, but maybe a little confused, as if I’d suggested something willy nilly to the committee.

“Not with a calendar, but with photo shoots and–”

“Modeling?” Drew asked.

I shook my head. “Pageants.”

“Pageants,” Mac repeated.

I nodded. “Yes, beauty pageants.”

His mouth dropped open.

“I can see how that would cross over,” Drew replied, filling the silence.

“I also worked for a PR company as an administrative assistant. I’m knowledgeable in fundraising and organizing and–”

“Pageants.”

It was possible I broke Mac.

“What’s a pageant?” Andy asked, coming back into the kitchen to grab a pencil.

I looked to him. “It’s a contest for being pretty. And poised. And smart. And confident.”

He crinkled up his nose. “Pretty? So no boys are in it.”

“Actually, there are some boys in them. A few. Your age, too.”

“I don’t want to be pretty.”

“You can be handsome and smile nice and big no matter how nervous you are. You dress up, comb your hair and–”

“That doesn’t sound like any fun at all,” he added. “But you liked it? You’re pretty and smart and… what’s posed?”

“Poised,” I corrected.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be that.”

“I think you’re fine just the way you are,” I told him. If Momma had said that to me at any time in my life, I’d probably not be such a hot mess.

He grinned, then ran off.

“Since you’re here, that means you no longer work there,” Drew said, steering the conversation away from Andy picking up pageants as his passion project. “Smart of James Corp to snap you up.”

Drew gave me a smile and I imagined him to be my father.

Kind. Easygoing. Quick to offer praise. I didn’t know mine since he and my mom divorced when I was four and he didn’t stick around, but since my mother only mentioned him by the term sperm donor and waste of time, I didn’t imagine him being anything like Drew.

“My um, well, my ex-husband also worked at the company so I quit when we separated.” I fidgeted because… yay! I loved talking about my failures. Especially in front of Mac.

I glanced his way. Yup, he was still staring.

He’d kissed me. And fondled me. And… yeah, was slightly deranged, but I’d definitely liked how he’d been a little rough, as if he couldn’t control himself.

I didn’t remember ever being kissed like that before.

And we’d been dressed, with only a door separating us from a child.

But I had no doubt it was an appetizer for what it would be like if Mac and I got together.

Maddening. Wild. Definitely intense and potent.

But the way Mac was behaving, like he was quietly having a stroke, I wasn’t so sure it was going to happen again. Art made me insane and he was the last person I wanted kissing me. Hell, I left the time zone to get away from him.

“You quit?” Mac asked, finally rejoining the conversation.

My cheeks flushed with an equal mix of anger and shame. “He… well, he’s the CFO and wouldn’t quit just because we were divorcing. Besides, he had an affair with his secretary so she’d have to leave too in order to make that environment anywhere near comfortable.”

Drew frowned. “His sec– I don’t blame you.”

“He cheated on you?” Mac asked, eyes wide.

I nodded. Yeah, that was a shame that made my cheeks hot. If they saw a picture of Pam, they wouldn’t be so surprised. She was blonde and skinny and had perky boobs and thighs that didn’t rub together, and I bet she was multi-orgasmic.

“I left because I didn’t want to stare at them every day since they ended up getting married.” I took a swig of the sparkling apple juice and wished it was something a hell of a lot stronger.

“They got married? Holy fuck,” Mac muttered.

Both men had similar grim expressions. They looked at each other, as if they were talking without saying a word.

“This job got me out of town and away from them and my mother, who isn’t as fun to live with the second time around.” I bit my lip. “Actually, she wasn’t all that fun the first time either.”

It looked like thunderclouds had settled over their heads. All because of me.

Oh no. I put on my pageant smile. “Don’t worry, everything’s fine now. I’m here and things are moving forward with the fundraiser–” I flicked a gaze at Mac. “–quite nicely.”

“What you need is a night out with some new friends,” Drew said. He stood, picked up his plate and carried it to the sink. Coming back for more dishes, he asked Mac, “Aren’t you meeting up with Theo at Kincaids?”

Mac looked at his watch. “Yes. I have to get going.”

“Take Georgia with you.”

“Um–”

“What?”

We spoke at once. I stood, grabbed my plate to help with the dishes. Drew took it from my hands. “I’ve got this,” he said with a smile and tip of his head. “You get ready to go. Mac will wait.”

I looked to Mac who didn’t look like he’d wait at all. If his father wasn’t looming over him, he’d probably bolt.

I didn’t have too much choice. Saying no let them know I let Mac get to me.

His surliness was because of me, definitely, but the calendar fundraiser was a good idea.

Solid. Actionable and profitable. There was buy-in from everyone in town but Mac.

As fire chief, he had a say, but he’d missed the chance to voice his opinion because of the emergency call.

He arrived too late. By then, it was a done deal.

Now he had to go with it. Be excited about it because he was the fire chief.

He couldn’t be Mr. Gloom and Doom in front of the town when it was his fundraiser.

But he could give me grumpy looks across the kitchen table. And man handle me in his laundry room.

I was going with him to this Kincaids place. I didn’t have a choice. But the last thing I wanted was another man stuck with me when he didn’t want me.