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“I’ll take your word for it.” Eric cracked open his beer can and took a long drink.
On the screen, Ryan Gosling stripped off his shirt. Eric wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. Sitting here with him, her body buzzing with physical delight from their visit to the hot tub, eating ice cream and watching a movie—this felt simple and fun. The emotional rush she’d felt earlier when he’d held her? She’d locked that outside.
For now. She suspected it wouldn’t stay there.
They watched in silence for a while. Eric finished his beer and set the can aside, still holding her tight. On the screen, Mr. Gosling remained topless. It didn’t seem to matter what he was doing, the producers had clearly decided their male star should remain partially dressed for the duration of the film.
“If I’d known I’d be watching you stare at a half-naked Ryan whatever-his-name all night, I would have insisted on the new Bond movie,” Eric mumbled.
She would have probably liked that more too. But she didn’t want Eric looking at her and wondering if the violence on the screen would trigger a bad memory. She’d rather joke about ice cream and movie stars while pressed against his warm body.
“You don’t think he’s cute?” she asked.
No answer. She glanced at the man next to her. Head back, mouth open, and eyes closed, Eric had passed out.
Georgia turned her attention back to the screen. Maybe she’d watch the Bond movie after this ended. A few more hours curled up next to Eric, his hand heavy on her shoulder, sounded better than tossing and turning in his spare bedroom, pretending to sleep.
And this time, it wouldn’t be her fear of nightmares keeping her up. She knew that in the morning, all of this, the hot tub sex and cuddling on the couch, would end. By the time the sun came up, she needed to accept the fact that holding on to her heart was not the same as taking the coward’s way out. She had what she wanted—one wild night with Eric. That had to be enough.
Chapter Nine
ERIC WOKE UP to sunlight pouring into the condo’s open living area. He’d slept on the couch. At some point, he’d shifted from sitting to lying down. And someone—Georgia—had thrown a blanket over him.
Sitting up, he glanced around. No sign of her.
He moved to the kitchen and found a hot pot of coffee. He poured a cup and headed for the door. From the deck, he spotted her at the ocean’s edge wearing the same bathing suit she’d lost in his pond last weekend. The waves crashed around her thighs. The water had to be freezing, but she didn’t seem to care. She walked in, waited for a wave, and dove under.
“Crazy,” he murmured. But it wasn’t just the early morning dip in the Pacific that bothered him. The way she approached life, as if it was one big thrill ride, made him wonder about last night. Between the wild game of truth or dare and the way she’d insisted they remain outside, in full view, made him wonder, did she want him or just another rush?
He couldn’t push that question away, not anymore. This thing between them was turning into more than stolen kisses. They needed to take the next step and tell her brother. Liam deserved to hear the facts from them, not rumors or hearsay.
Eric followed her movements in the surf. In a few minutes, she’d be freezing. Scanning the sand for a towel, he came up empty. He set his coffee on the hot tub lid, grabbed one, and headed for the stairs.
Georgia emerged, dripping wet, when he reached the water’s edge. “Playing lifeguard?”
“Someone has to keep you safe.” He draped the towel over her shoulders, but stopped short of wrapping it around her front. Instead, he used it like a net, drawing her toward him.
“I’m a strong swimmer,” she said, stepping close.
She took the edge of the towel from him and reached her arms up, cocooning them from prying eye
s. Eric looked up and down the shore. A couple walked in the distance, and in the other direction, a woman with her dog ran down the shore.
“What if you got caught in the undertow?” He ran his hand up her arm, to the back of her neck.
“If you came in to get me, it would pull you under too.”
“It might. Or I might save you.” He toyed with the string at the back of her neck. One quick tug and it came undone. The fabric fell away from her breasts. His hands covered her, pressing against her tight nipples. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “Admit it. One day, you might need me.”
“To rescue me? Never.”
Her expression was a mix of defiance and desire. He lowered his forehead to hers. “Rescue and need aren’t the same.”
He ran his hands over the curve of her waist. Holding her hip with one hand, he slipped the other beneath her bikini bottom, caressing her soft, wet folds.
“Careful,” she gasped. “We’re still on the beach.”
“Let’s go inside.”
