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Georgia smiled sweetly. “Nope. Now we eat and shoot some arrows.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who brings a bow to dinner.” He released the cords holding the equipment she’d placed on the back of his four-wheeler.
She shrugged, attaching the quiver to her belt. “I figured we could both use the practice. When was the last time you shot a bow?”
“Before Nate moved in. These days most of my spare time is spent with him, and he’s too young to handle one of these. Maybe when he is older I’ll teach him.” He shook his head. “I’ll add it to the list, which grows longer every day. There is so much I want to show him.”
“You’re a good dad.” Georgia set the basket and blanket down. “I knew that from the moment I started living with you two.”
Eric froze, the bow in his hand. “You did?”
He’d felt as if he’d been standing on the edge of parenting failure since Nate arrived. He loved and provided for him, but he wasn’t sure it was enough, especially for a kid whose world had been turned upside down and inside out.
But what else was he supposed to do? He did
n’t have a clue. His parents were not the best role models. As a kid, he had often felt like a footnote in their lives instead of the focus.
“How?” Eric asked. “How did you know?”
Georgia turned her head to one side, studying him. And in that moment, he felt vulnerable and exposed, as if he’d showed up at a work site buck naked.
“You made Nate the center of your world,” she said. “He comes first.”
Eric nodded. “He does.”
Georgia walked a few steps from her chosen picnic site. He watched as she set her sights on a towered pine, withdrew an arrow from the quiver, and raised her bow. “Having a three-year-old hasn’t left much time for you, has it? And your personal life?”
She let the arrow fly, hitting the tree in the center.
“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m seeing someone?” he said.
“No.” Georgia pulled out a second arrow and handed it to him. “I’d know if you were. Unless you’re sneaking off to a motel while we’re all asleep.”
Eric laughed, taking the arrow and loading his bow. “I’m not. If I was, someone in this town would find out and they’d talk.”
“I didn’t think so,” Georgia said. “But just because you’re not dating doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
He turned his gaze back to Georgia. His body tightened, jumping to conclusions at the thought of fun and Georgia.
“How about a friendly competition?” she suggested. “Best out of three? Winner claims the prize.”
She was talking about arrows and adventure while his lust-filled mind barreled straight across the line into a place he couldn’t go, not with her.
Eric raised his bow, aiming for the arrow she’d placed in the tree. “You’re on. What’s the prize?”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Georgia grin. “You prepare breakfast for one week.”
Eric released the arrow, watching as it missed the tree. “You want to win a week of cold cereal? That’s the extent of my cooking.”
“Hmm, you’re right.” Then her smile widened, lighting up her brown eyes. “How about you have to buy me all the gumballs I want for one week?”
“Gumballs?” Eric laughed, shaking his head. Growing up, if Georgia won a bet—with him, Liam, or anyone else—she’d demand payment in gumballs from the machine outside the Independence Falls grocery. “Seriously?”
She nodded, fighting to look serious. “Old habits die hard.”
“And if I win, what is my prize? A candy bar?”
“Sure.” She glanced at his first failed attempt to hit the tree. “But I wouldn’t start thinking about whether you want nuts and caramel or peanut butter cups just yet.”
