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“Piper’s on it,” Georgia answers. “She’s driving out to a lighting store today to see if they have enough stock for us to complete the lighting in the proposal documents. If not, she’ll drive down to Sacramento; there’s a huge lighting store there she’s apparently been wanting to visit for years.”
I can’t resist reaching over and letting my hand sweep down her bare arm. Her skin is like warm silk, soft as a rose petal. “Have dinner with me,” I say.
“Are you ever going to stop ordering me around?”
“Maybe.”
“Lie.”
I grin. “Come on, Georgia. One meal.”
A furry brown head appears between my feet. Bella sniffs at Georgia’s shoes, then wiggles over to her and sits down, glancing up expectedly. Delight floods Georgia’s face as she crouches down to pick up my dog.
“Hello there, you cutie,” she says. “Why are you here? A construction site is dangerous for a little puppy like you.”
“Didn’t have anywhere else to bring her,” I say. “She mostly just stays on her bed.” I jab a thumb at the dog bed sitting in a patch of sunlight by the front of the room.
Bella gives Georgia endless dog kisses while Georgia laughs, trying to dodge them. The dog finally settles down in her arms and rests her head on Georgia’s chest.
“She likes you,” I say.
“She probably smells the bacon sandwich I had for breakfast.”
I grin.
“Hey, boss!” Layne calls out, powdered sugar all over his chin. “What do you want me to do with these?” He holds up two spindles from the rotten banister we just tore off the stairs.
“Stack them over there.” I point to the corner and turn back to Georgia. “I should get back to it.”
“Call me if there are any issues,” she says, walking Bella back to her bed. The dog spins around in a circle three times, then flops on her belly and closes her eyes.
I walk her to the door and lean against the jamb. “So?”
Georgia spins around, midmorning sunlight glinting off her hair and skin. She looks like a goddess. I don’t deserve her—I know I don’t. I’m waiting for her to realize it too.
She stands on her tiptoes and places a gentle kiss on my lips. “Dinner will be great,” she says. “Seven o’clock?”
Heart thumping, I nod. “See you then, Sweet Peach.”
Her glare makes me hot. I chuckle, then turn back to the gallery and resolve to make these renovations perfect. I don’t have much else to offer her, so I’d better make them good.
20
GEORGIA
The pastries werean excuse to see Sebastian. That, and it never hurts to bribe your subcontractors with delicious fat and sugar made by the best pastry chef in the county. Jen’s creations are unbelievable, and everyone knows it.
As I cross the road to where my scooter is parked in front of the café, I can’t resist another glance at my future art gallery. A couple of weeks ago, this was just a far-fetched idea. Now there are half a dozen men working to make it happen, and another half-dozen women cheering me on. The whole town seems to be coming together to see my new gallery open successfully.
Well, the whole town except the artists. Four painters have been dodging my calls, seven others have straight-up ignored me, with only a few hobbyists agreeing to meet with me. At this rate, I won’t have much to display in the gallery when it opens, and what I will have will be amateurish.
“Georgia!” Mac comes jogging toward me. A handsome man in his mid-forties, Mac looks like a bad boy who’s all grown up. Big, broad, and confident, he gives me a kind smile and comes to a stop near my front wheel. “I was just going to call you,” he says. “I contacted Cameron Fuller a couple of days ago, and he agreed to meet with you. He said he was free all day today.”
I gasp, squeezing my scooter helmet between my hands. “Really?” My heart thumps. Cameron Fuller is a big name in Heart’s Cove. His work is edgy, dark, and evocative. Having his work in my gallery would give my space instant credibility.
If he agrees to meet with me, how could other artists refuse? The minute Cameron’s name is connected to Art’s Cove, I’ll have artists lining up around the block for me to display their work, I just know it.
Mac hands me a slip of paper with a phone number and an address. He smiles. “If you want to stop by my studio, I’d be happy to show you some pieces I’ve been working on. Trina told me you’d be interested in displaying them.”
