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“Nothing,” Zax answers, still looking at me. “I’m being an asshole, over-protective big brother type.”
“Shocker,” Callan deadpans.
“What about you, Georgia? What’s your deal? Are you staying in Boston or going back to LA?” Grey asks, changing the subject.
She turns to him and then searches around the box, making sure the attendant isn’t here to overhear. He’s not. Asher already told them we’d handle everything tonight and wanted privacy.
“I’m thinking I’ll stay here for a while,” she says, making sure her face is away from the wall of glass where cameras could possibly read her words. “I honestly have no pressing need to return to LA right now, and with all that’s going on with a certain someone, I’d rather not be there.”
“What?” Aurelia squawks, cutting herself off midsentence from whatever she’s saying to Fallon.
Georgia gives her a bemused look. “What? What’s wrong?”
Aurelia climbs up on her seat, her expression serious, even as she twists her face so she too is shielded from potential cameras. “You can’t stay here in Boston or go back to LA. You just told me your ex and his father are looking into having your marriage invalidated or at the very least questioned, and that your ex has been having you followed.”
The back of my neck starts to prickle at where I’m afraid she’s going with this.
“Yeah…” Georgia trails off as if she’s not following.
“So you have to live with Lenox,” Fallon finishes, picking up where Aurelia left off, her hand covering the side of her face. “You can’t give them any avenue to challenge you, and not living with your new husband would do just that.”
“Right. Exactly.” Aurelia points at Fallon.
“No,” Zax and Grey say in unison, and it’s like fucking déjà vu.
“Yes,” Layla presses, pushing her long blonde hair back behind her ears as she stands and turns her back toward the field so she’s not seen talking either. “Not only will her ex be all over that if she doesn’t, but so will the press. We’re here tonight to prove you’re a couple. Living separately, especially when you have their watchful eyes on you, will show the opposite.”
Georgia’s face turns red, and she throws me a quick, uneasy glance before returning to the women, who are all staring at us as if they’re ready to take up this charge. “What are you suggesting? That I move to Maine?”
“One hundred percent that’s what we’re saying,” Aurelia states adamantly.
“It might not be ideal or your first choice, but it’s the smart one.” Fallon takes a sip of her drink and stares Georgia down.
“No. I can’t do it,” Georgia says softly, folding her arms defiantly and staring straight ahead out the glass only to remember herself and soften her position in case anyone is watching.
“Then why bother marrying him?” Callan asks. “Listen, I hate to side on this since I can tell none of you want that, but I agree with the women. They’re right. It’s why I had Layla move in with me as my fake fiancée when I was trying to win guardianship of Katy. You need to appear legit.”
Georgia chews on her lip. He has a point. They all do. But having Georgia in Maine in my house for who knows how long is a seriously bad idea. For both of us.
“I’m sure we can figure something else out,” she mumbles. Only I can tell in her voice that she isn’t so sure. “Shit,” she hisses, and then twists until she’s leaning over the armrest of the chair, practically crawling in my lap. I stiffen, but she presses her lips to mine. “Smile like you love me, put your hand in my hair or on my face, and kiss me like you mean it. The cameras are right on us. I see us on the television in the corner.”
The national broadcast for the game is playing, and sure enough, she’s right. My hand lightly touches her face before I gently press my lips to hers, so very mindful of our audience. Still, the feel of her lips never fails to steal my breath, even with her cousins sitting right beside me.
Aurelia whistles a catcall, and Georgia covertly flips her off, much to Aurelia’s delight.
“Done. They’ve moved on.” Georgia retakes her seat in a harrumph. She’s not happy.
“Yeah, but that image will be all over social media and the internet within seconds,” Grey says, giving me a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m grateful as fuck for all that you’re doing, but I’m also sorry.”
“I’ll survive,” I mutter.
“You do realize it’s not just social media and the internet. The paps will be all over you. Both of you,” Layla asserts from the other side of Georgia, her head angled toward us. “It won’t just be Vegas or even Boston.” Layla comes from a family of billionaires. Famous billionaires at that. She, like Fallon, is no stranger to this sort of thing either.
“What about in Maine?” Fallon asks.
Zax makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I’d love to see them try. They won’t be able to get within five hundred yards of Lenox’s house, and the town doesn’t take kindly to outsiders digging for information. Especially on him.”
“What does that mean? Especially on him?” Georgia asks and I shake my head, refusing to answer, so no one else does. Not that anyone else knows beyond the guys.
