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The office door opens. I want to turn around, shove Georgia back inside and out of sight, and drag this guy out of the gallery by his hair. Instead, I step aside and watch Georgia and Simone approach while keeping Cameron Fullofhimself in my line of sight.
“Have you found a manager?” Simone asks, eyes darting to the two of us and then to Georgia, her voice artificially light. “Bet there’d be a dozen people in town who want to work at Art’s Cove.”
Cameron shifts, his voice low so only I can hear it. “She’s right. Lots of interest.” He leans so close I can feel the heat of his body against my arm. “I know I wouldn’t mind taking care ofhercove.”
“Her cove is none of your fuckin’ business,” I growl.
“I’d work overtime,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken.
“No one works overtime on her cove,” I say, turning to face him. “Her cove has everything it needs.” I slice my hand in the air, pulse pounding.
“Um, what are you guys talking about?” Simone asks, voice rising. The ladies are still about fifteen feet away and approaching fast.
We both ignore them.
Cameron’s eyes are laughing at me. “What, you think you’re good enough for a cove like that? That’s prime cove, my man.” He kisses his fingers like an Italian chef. “I’d savor it. I’d make it so happy, it would weep. I’d—”
I don’t even realize I’ve hit him until my fist crunches into his face. Georgia’s scream rends the air, but I barely hear it. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on top of Cameron, winding back to punch him again. He laughs at me, teeth bloody, taunting.
“Sebastian, stop!” Georgia grabs my arm to try to slow my punch. It still connects with this asshole’s face. “Stop!”
My dog yips and barks, jumping on me, scrabbling forward.
I grab Cameron’s shirt and slam him down. Bella barks, lunging at his neck. Then, when Simone jumps on my back with a Viking battle cry, Bella lifts her back leg and urinates all over Cameron’s stupid, pretty-boy face.
For a frozen second, we all just stare. Simone uses the brief moment of slack in my muscles to haul me off the artist, and Georgia helps by yanking my arm so hard it nearly comes out of its socket.
They drag me across the shiny hardwood floors while I snarl and flail. If he thinks I’m going to letanyonespeak about Georgia like that, he’s got a death wish. Even my dog’s urine is too good for him.
Cameron’s face darkens, and he shoves my dog away. The ladies yell.
“Don’t touch her!” Georgia barks, pointing at the artist.
He snarls. “The dog pissed on my fucking face, and you’re yelling atme? After what he did?” He thrusts an arm at me.
“I’ll deal with him later,” Georgia says, standing. She straightens her shirt, regal and composed. I watch her, my pulse pounding, and I know I don’t deserve someone so elegant, so fucking beautiful. I’ll never deserve her.
Cameron lifts himself onto his elbow and starts laughing at me. “Just like I thought. You know you’re not good enough. Deep down, you know it.”
My hands tighten into fists.
“What iswrongwith you?” The question lands like a lead weight in the middle of the empty gallery. I’m surprised to see Georgia staring at me, wide-eyed. Her eyes search mine, then drop to my bloody knuckles. “What the hell happened? What… We were gone for three minutes! Have you lost yourmind?”
“Have I lostmymind?” I roar, thrusting an arm at the man who’s slowly rolling to his feet. “You should have heard the things he was saying about you, Georgia. I wasdefendingyou.”
“I don’t need you to defend me.” Her eyes blaze, and the sight of her terrible anger stokes my own temper to a roaring blaze.
I get to my feet and face her. “If you think I’m going to let some pretentious asshole say anything bad about you, you don’t know me at all, Georgia. You can’t expect me to let that slide.”
“I expect you to respect my place of business and let me take care of my own problems.” Her voice goes shrill by the last word, her finger poking me in the middle of the chest.
“Georgia.” I want to strangle her. I want to cup my palms around her face and tell her how precious she is. “You can take care of all the problems you want, but I’m not going to let some asshole disrespect you in my presence.”
Her face is beautiful and terrible. Her voice is low and full of rage. “You haveno rightto assault anyone in my gallery. Especially not one of my artists.” She whirls, stomping to the other man who’s mopping up the blood and pee off his face with the edge of his shirt. “Are you okay?”
He straightens, painting a pitiful smile on his face. “It was just a little love tap.”
Bella trots over to me, looking smug. I scratch her ears and pick her up. “Good girl.”
