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Damn it. “So—”
“No playing capture the flag tonight,” she smiled, the light not quite reaching her eyes. “I hate it since we only have—”
“Don’t go.”
“I have to. I told Mary Catherine I would. She’s marrying a schmuck so I have to be nice to her tonight.”
“No, I mean don’t go back east.”
Her smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“Stay here. In Texas. You belong here.”
Georgia shook her head. “No, I don’t. You just want me to stay so we can keep playing house. We knew this was just for fun.”
“But it’s not anymore.”
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“I love you.”
Georgia froze, her eyes widening. “No, you don’t. You think you love me.” Her hand lingered on the seat belt, and she stared out at the hotel. “Things have been good, but that doesn’t mean we’re in love. Don’t ascribe what we’ve been doing to love.”
“I can’t change the way I feel. Maybe it’s not love. I don’t know. I just can’t stand the thought of you leaving Holly Hills.”
Georgia set her mouth in a line. “So tell me, what makes you think I belong here?”
He shrugged, his stomach filling with dread. He shouldn’t have said anything about her staying. He shouldn’t have ruined their last few days together by being honest about his feelings. “You say you don’t belong, but everything points to the opposite.”
“What about my life in Boston? Why would you think I would leave all that I am just so we could be together?”
He didn’t say anything. When she phrased it like that, he didn’t have a response.
“Typical man,” she said, her face twisting in anguish before she turned away. “You know, I don’t want to talk about this. I have to be at the church for rehearsal at five thirty. So are you going to be my date or not?”
Total shutdown.
Should have seen that coming. He cranked the engine. “I’ll take you.”
Georgia turned and took a deep breath. “You know what this is? You have this idea of what you want for your life, and you’ve tried to shoehorn me into it. Just because I can make cornbread and ride a horse doesn’t make me your fantasy girl. You’ve spent the past few days pretending I can be more than what I am. I’m not that woman.”
“I’m not trying to change who you are. Just challenging your reasons for always running away from here.”
“Damn straight I’m running. You can’t judge me for not wanting to live in this crappy little town with people who know the real me.”
“And the real you is so bad? So you grew up poor. Big fucking deal. Lots of people grow up poor. You made something of yourself. You’re not the helpless girl you once were, so stop trying to play that part. No one here judges you, so you’re full of shit on that account.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Life’s been easy for you, rich boy. And if you want to talk playacting, let’s take a look at you, Mr. I-Wanna-Be-a-Cowboy. You’ve built some dreamland in your head where you amble home after a long day to a fawning wife and adorable children waiting with a meatloaf on the table. So tell me who’s crazy here.”
Reed’s temper crackled. “Don’t make fun of what I want.”
“Why not? You discount what I want.”
Tense silence sat between them, the air no longer electric with desire. Instead it vibrated with hurt.
“You’re just afraid,” he said, shifting the gear into reverse.
“No,” she said, flinging out a hand. “Don’t. I want out.”
