Page 12 of Wintering with George

“George!” he yelled but didn’t try and pull free.

“Listen, you can worry when I’m gone because you don’t know what I’m up against or whom I’m fighting and you don’t know their skill set. But when I’m here in front of you—I truly wasn’t worried that any of those guys could hurt me. I was only worried about the boys when I came into the house.”

He nodded into my shoulder. “They shot you.”

“The bullet grazed me, you know that, you saw. It didn’t even need stitches.”

“You never go to the hospital.”

“I go when it’s necessary, but nobody touched me, and I didn’t even hit my head this time. You were impressed, weren’t you?”

“I’m always impressed with you.”

“Yeah?”

He lifted his head and looked into my face. “I love you. I can’t help but be scared when people point guns at you.”

Taking his face in my hands, I eased him forward into a kiss that really was the best thing I’d had all day, even better than the burger. When he pulled back, he licked his lips.

“I’m thinking you don’t mind the grease or the onion rings.”

“No, I don’t,” he agreed, and kissed me again.

FOUR

I had gone to what was Kurt’s and my room, upstairs on the opposite end from the boys, which was good because I planned to have sex during our holidays, and Kurt was loud in the sack. He always sounded so affronted when I pointed that out but smiled shyly at the same time. The combination made the man utterly attackable.

I’d just finished showering and changing and was sitting on the end of the bed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a hoodie, putting my socks on, when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Yeah?”

Thomasin poked her head in and smiled.

“Hey, Thom. Are you still gonna have your party thing?”

She sighed deeply and shook her head. “No. I think my family has been through enough for one night, don’t you?”

“Possibly,” I said, grinning at her.

“May I?” she asked, pointing at the spot beside me on the bed.

“’Course.”

She closed the door and took a seat next to me. When I looked at her, she was biting her bottom lip.

“So,” I said, “I saw that the boards are up where the glass doors were. You got those guys out here fast.”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “But those doors, they don’t slide right, they sort of pivot to open, so it’s all custom work. They told me it’s certainly going to be after New Year’s before they can make the repairs, since they need large single pieces of beveled glass.”

I was quiet a moment. “I feel like I should apologize, but at the same time⁠—”

“George, no.” She grabbed hold of my forearm. “You saved my family. I can’t ever—and I feel terrible for what I thought.”

I grinned slowly. “What’d ya think?”

Her brows furrowed, but I noted that she didn’t let me go.

“I thought my brother was infatuated.”