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Georgeanne glanced at the television long enough to take in a young woman dressed in tiny cutoff shorts with the tails of her red gingham shirt tied between her breasts climbing down from a big tractor. It was a good thing the woman had small breasts or she’d fall out of the little shirt. Georgeanne never would have been able to wear a shirt like that. Not since she’d been twelve, anyway.
“I’m Davina Gerardo from Scottsdale, Arizona.”
“I bet your daddy’s real proud, Davina Gerardo from Arizona.” John shook his head in gleeful disgust.
“I love eighteen holes and the smell of fresh cut grass at We-Ko-Pa.”
Georgeanne returned her attention to the biscuit recipe and answered John’s first question. “I think they get these girls from strip clubs.”
“I’m Jenny Douglas from Salem, Oregon. I love rain puddles and karaoke.”
“Strippers aren’t that desperate.” He punched a pillow behind his back and settled in. “Not that I’d know,” he added.
“Of course not.”
“I can’t believe they put this kind of shit on TV,” he complained, but he didn’t change the channel, and Georgeanne smiled.
“I’m Summer Williams from Bell Buckle, Tennessee. I love Muddy Waters and traveling back roads.”
“Too easy. I like a challenge, Summer,” John drawled, imitating her accent. “You shot that one right to me but I’m not taking your garbage goal.”
“I’m Whitney Sue Allen from Paducah, Kentucky.”
“You’re so pale, you look inbred.”
“John . . .” Georgeanne sighed.
“I love yoga and Daddy’s peach wine.”
“Of course you do. Your daddy is your own granddaddy.”
“Not nice, John. Don’t forget that I’m a Texan. Just because she’s from the South doesn’t make her inbred.”
“It would explain this show.” He paused as if in deep contemplation. “Inbred as hell and fed lead paint from toxic baby bottles.”
Georgeanne looked at the television and the barefoot girl climbing down from the tractor before joining the others. “More likely they just weren’t raised right.” She turned her attention to her husband, and his dark blue gaze fixed on the reality show. “Bless their hearts.”
“Their mothers should be whacked with an idiot stick.” Without taking his attention from the TV, he leaned to his left and grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand. “And their fathers should have their nuts snipped off.” He chuckled at his own joke. There wasn’t anyone on the planet who thought he was as funny as he did himself. “Jesus.” He sat up as if the pillows had ejected him forward, and the bottle launched across the room.
“John—”
“I’m Lexie Kowalsky from Seattle, Washington.” Georgeanne felt her brows rocket to her hairline as her head whipped around. “I love Chinooks hockey and my dog, Yum Yum.”
Georgeanne blinked several times at the impossible sight of her oldest daughter climbing down from a tractor, her butt cheeks showing beneath her shorts, her large breasts threatening to bounce out of her top, all captured in ultrahigh definition.
Lexie straightened, tossed her blond hair, and gave the camera a big white smile that had once cost her parents thousands in orthodontia.
Georgeanne choked and couldn’t get words out. She turned to her husband and pointed at their daughter, who was supposed to be in Stockholm.
John’s stunned gaze met hers, but he had no problem getting his words out. “What the fuck?”
Chapter 1
•love is a hurricane
Beneath the ombré sky, an orange sun hung just above the Seattle skyscrapers, bathing the Emerald City in splashes of gold and pink, coalescing into smears of deep purple.
An early January breeze rippled across the surface of Lake Union and slid beneath the collar of Sean Knox’s black coat. Pinwheels of white light danced across the silver frames of his aviator sunglasses and, behind the mirrored lenses, his gaze had turned lazy from the relaxing glow of Grey Goose. The vodka dulled the sharp edges around him and calmed the turmoil in the pit of his stomach. Before the night was through, he planned to get a whole lot lazier. Sean wasn’t a big drinker, especially during the season. In order to get the best performance out of his body, he didn’t fill it with junk, and he never poisoned himself with booze. Except tonight.
