Page 303 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

GEORGIA

Mac hadn’t been wrong. I met Theo, the doctor.

Dex, the hockey player, who was also Theo’s brother.

He was supposedly famous, but I didn’t follow the sport, or any sport for that matter.

That was it for guys. Then there was Mallory, Bridget and Lindy.

Each was with a different James brother.

Mallory and Theo, Bridget and Mav, although he wasn’t here and Lindy, who was married to Dex.

And Lindy was Bridget’s sister. It was a little complicated, but pretty cool.

On top of that, there was Melly, the town librarian.

From the information Mallory shared–while Melly blushed–she just started a relationship with a guy who was fifteen years older, a lumberjack and oh yeah, her ex’s dad.

Daniel wasn’t here because he was with his four brothers caber tossing.

I’d had to look that up on my phone to know what it was, but now I knew why Melly’s cheeks were so red. If her man was as fit and gorgeous as the ones in the Highland Games photos, she was one lucky lady.

“I can’t believe you all came out to meet me,” I said.

The ladies were at one end of a long high-top table, the guys at the other.

Mallory, Bridget and Lindy sat around me in a semicircle since I was on the end.

Each of us had a glass of wine, except Lindy, who looked like she was going to have a baby any second, even though she waved her hand and said it’d be three more weeks.

“We have a group text,” Bridget said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Theo told Mallory you were coming and she sent out a group text. She heard a lot about you from Andy and none of us could miss getting to know you.”

“No wonder Andy’s been telling everyone he has a new mom,” Mallory said.

When Andy looked panicked earlier when he would have to tell Miss Mornay he didn’t do his math homework, I envisioned her to be a stern, old woman who used a beady eyed glare as a scare tactic.

But Mallory was far from old, probably mid-twenties, and she looked like she’d be an amazing teacher.

“At school?” I asked, covering my face with my hand. “Oh no.”

She laughed. “You’re so dang pretty it’s no wonder he’s been dazzled.”

“I think someone else is dazzled, too,” Lindy said, leaning in. She looked down the table and we all glanced in that direction.

There, at the end opposite mine, was Mac. Arms crossed over his chest. While Dex and Theo were talking, he was eyeing me.

“He’s been staring since you sat down,” Mallory added.

“Glaring,” Bridget corrected with an amused smile.

“Glowering,” Melly said.

“Eye fucking,” Lindy whispered.

I gasped and the others giggled.

“That is not the look of a man who is dazzled,” I whispered. But it was a look that made me hot. Made me remember how he kissed. How he’d dragged me into the laundry room because he couldn’t hold off a second longer getting his lips on mine. And his hands on my body.

“Not him, his dick,” Mallory said simply.

I sputtered on a sip of my wine. “I dick dazzle him?”

In unison, they nodded.

I dick dazzled a guy? And not just any guy, but Mac?

Impossible. I definitely hadn’t dick dazzled Art. A guy who was dick dazzled didn’t cheat because his dick was so happy and satisfied.

“Are you taken?” Bridget asked. “Is that why you’re not interested in him?”

My eyes widened. “Oh, I’m interested because… look at him. And I’m recently divorced, so ridiculously single.”

“Well, they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another,” Lindy offered, waggling her blonde eyebrows. “The way Mac’s eyeing you, he wants you under him.”

“Over him, too,” Mallory added with a giggle. “Why wouldn’t he? You’ve got a rockin’ body and that hair…”

She and Bridget eyed me up and down, or at least what they could see of me above the table. “Yeah, how do you do that?” Bridget asked.

“What?” I asked, glancing down at myself. Had I dribbled some wine on my sweater? Shit, it was dry clean only and red was a bitch to get out.

“Your hair. It’s in a ponytail like mine, but I look like I finished a run, all snarled and wispy.”

Lindy reached up and playfully tugged on the end of Bridget’s. They’d said they were sisters, but Lindy was probably my age and Bridget in her early twenties. They didn’t look much alike either.

“Yeah, and your makeup, sheesh, do you have a YouTube channel or something?” Mallory added.

I blinked at her, confused. YouTube channel? Me?

“She even makes me look like a slob,” Lindy piped in, but she had to be joking because she looked so put together.

I was a little embarrassed at their scrutiny. “My momma always said you don’t leave the house without your face on and well, I need all the help I can get.”

“Help? You’re insanely pretty. It’s kinda hard not to look at you. You could be Miss America with the way you’re all put together,” Mallory suggested. “Right?” She looked to the others. “All she needs is an evening dress and a sash.”

I frowned. “Actually, I did pageants for ten years.”

Mallory set her hand on my forearm and looked at me with anticipation. “Say you were Miss America.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t make it further than runner up for Little Miss Calhan because I wanted to baton twirl instead of sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic my momma expected, which is ironic because in my hometown, the Civil War isn’t over.”

“You can baton twirl?” Melly asked, eyes wide. “I tried once, and it hit me in the head.”

I laughed. “Absolutely not. Thus, being runner up. Sing? Yes. But I never got close to another tiara again.”

“I knew it!” Mallory said. “You have the poise for pageants. And the hair. God, I need the name of your shampoo. Do you use a keratin treatment?”

“Little Miss Calhan?” Lindy asked, her eyes practically twinkling. “I bet you were adorable. If this watermelon turns out to be a girl, then maybe she can do pageants.” Her hands rested atop her huge stomach.

“Pageants aren’t for everyone,” I advised.

“Trust me. I was seven at the time of the baton twirling incident. If only I’d sung, then I’d have the little tiara to put beside all my sister’s trophies and tiaras from her wins.

But as I got older, I got these...” I pointed to my chest. “And hips. And an ass that got to be more than the pageant norm. You might think I rock an evening gown, but I don’t rock a swimsuit. ”

“Whatever,” Bridget said. “Who rocks a swimsuit anyway? They’re expensive and besides, you can wear one for like two weeks here in Montana. Anyway, who says you have to be stick thin to be stunning?”

“My mother and sister,” I answered immediately. “Who is stick thin and was Miss Georgia. Also, my ex, who traded me in for a lighter model.”

“My mother’s a gambling addict alcoholic,” Mallory shared, as we were having a crazy mother contest. “Mothers don’t know everything.”

“My mother had an affair with the mayor,” Melly said.

“Mayor Mary?” I asked, wide eyed.

Melly shook her head. “A few mayors ago.”

“Who cares about being skinny anyway?” Lindy asked. “I haven’t seen my feet in two months.”

“Exactly,” Bridget said. “Your ex is obviously a jerk. Can you imagine if men were judged by wearing a swimsuit?”

“While wearing heels and twirling in a circle? And a baton?” Lindy added, grinning. “Although Dex wears skates like they’re an extension of his body so I bet he could do heels.”

“What’s that, sugar?” Dex asked her, hearing his name.

“Nothing.” They kissed and he turned back to the guys. God, they were insanely cute to watch. Happily married and any day having a baby.

A baby. I was instantly jealous of her and all she had. A guy who wouldn’t stop touching her. Called her sugar and was clearly all-in for a family.

“Is that where you got the idea for the fundraiser calendar?” Mallory asked, stirring me from my thoughts. “Because of the pageants?”

“Calendar?” Lindy wondered. Obviously, their group text didn’t cover everything.

I filled them in.

“I love it!” Lindy said, absently rubbing her belly. “She should ask Eve to be a sponsor.”

“Our friend Eve, who’s married to Silas, runs Steaming Hotties,” Bridget explained.

“The coffee shop? I saw the place yesterday. It’s across from the fire station. I’ll stop in tomorrow and introduce myself.”

“I’ll buy a few and put them up at the library,” Melly offered.

“So Mac’s going to be in the calendar?” Bridget asked.

I nodded and gave Mac a quick glance down the table. “It’s optional, but as fire chief he feels obligated. He’s not too thrilled about the entire concept,” I admitted, thankful the music in the bar was loud enough that the guys couldn’t hear what we were talking about.

“Mac in bunker gear and only bunker gear?” Lindy asked, fanning herself and grinning. “He doesn’t need to smile. Hell, that grumpy as hell face he’s giving Georgia right now works juuuuuuust fine.”

We glanced down the table again to Mac. That wasn’t his grumpy face. That was the look he gave me as he kicked the laundry room door shut behind him and kissed me.

Oh my.

“Totally dick dazzled.”