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But maybe he needed to stop thinking about plans and take hold of what sat in front of him. Georgia wasn’t about his future... she was about his next week.
Better to have a week of wonderful than a lifetime of...
No, he wanted a week and a lifetime of wonderful. He wouldn’t settle... and he wouldn’t overthink this next week with Georgia. He needed her, if only for a little while.
He’d think about heartache later.
* * *
Georgia flippedthe hot water cornbread, admiring the lovely golden color and the fact she could still scrabble together a kick-ass down-home feast with hot Reed McCormick watching her with his sleepy bedroom eyes.
“What’d you call this? Hot water cornbread?”
“Yeah. My paw paw taught me how to make it. He grew all kinds of vegetables and sold them out of the back of his old truck... but he could cook, too.” Georgia lifted the lid of the brand-new stockpot she’d taken out of a box of pots and pans in Reed’s office. “And in here are the turnip greens.”
“They make those at Tumbleweeds.”
“Sure they do, but not as good as mine,” Georgia smiled, slithering over to the grocery bags she’d set on his counter. His kitchen had a good bit of counter space, but the chipped Formica needed replacing with dark granite to offset the cream cabinetry that looked newly restored. The pulls were cheap, but the stainless-steel cooktop was big and new. Georgia was sure she was the first person to actually cook on it. She pulled out a bag of green apples and passed them to Reed. “Can you peel these?”
He took the bag and studied it. “With a knife?”
She dug a peeler out of a bag. “I figured you didn’t have one of these, but I must say the towels your mother ordered from Neiman’s are nice.”
He took the peeler and a large ceramic bowl and went to work. His peeling wouldn’t set records, but he managed to peel the eight apples while she finished the cornbread. The smell of the roast and potatoes in the oven permeated the kitchen, reminding her of her childhood when her aunt Minnie brought Tammy and Cooter over to Paw Paw’s and they had Sunday dinner together.
“Now we’re going to slice these apples for the pie,” she said, picking up a paring knife and making short work of the cores. She slid in front of him, making sure she brushed the fly of his jeans.
“Jesus.”
She laughed, knowing she played with a new fire. “Now set the apple on the cutting board like this.”
She brought his hands around her, handing him the knife, and enclosing his hands with hers. “Nice, thin slices. See?”
His lips found the sweet spot behind her ear, making Georgia glad she had short hair. “You slice, I’ll nibble.”
“Keep doing that and I’ll cut my finger off.”
“Then put down the damn knife. I’d rather have you for dessert anyway.”
Georgia pushed her rump back, trying to disengage him, but his arms stayed tight around her. “Reed, I really want to fix you dinner before I make you totally useless.”
“Oh, is that how it will be?”
“Damn straight. When I ride a cowboy, I ride a cowboy.”
Reed spun her to face him. “I’m not a cowboy. I’m a vet.”
Georgia looked up into his blue eyes. “Well then, I’ve only been waiting on you forever. All those cowboys were a total waste of time.”
He kissed her.
And Reed knew how to kiss—firm mouth, soft lips, hands cupping her face as if he drank from her. He tasted like cinnamon and a bit of apple. He tasted like home.
“Mmm... nice appetizer,” he murmured against her lips before dotting another hard kiss on her mouth and turning her back around. With a slap on her rump, he said, “Now cook me my dinner, woman.”
Georgia snorted. “I know you didn’t just say that.”
Reed snapped her with a towel. “It’s okay, I’ll get my own beer.”
