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And Georgia had taken us all around town the following day, showing him around. She didn’t make us wear disguises or stay incognito because she said having my brother along with us changed the dynamic, and no one would be talking about it.
Wyle had gone back to New York, but we’d had a good visit.
I checked my phone and saw all the screenshots of the story breaking about our father marrying his best friend’s daughter. And the fact that they were expecting a baby was apparently the big story of the day.
I texted him back and told him it would eventually blow over.
But after seeing how normal Georgia’s family was and then reading this shit about my father, it irritated me.
“Hey. What happened? Where’d you go?” She turned off the water in the tub once it was full and reached for the hem of my sweater before tugging it up until I helped her pull it over my head.
“That story broke about my dad and Claire. It will probably be the talk of the office for a while.” I reached for her overalls and unbuckled them. The denim fell to the floor in a heap before I tugged her hoodie over her head.
She looked up at me as I reached around her and unhooked her bra. “He is who he is, Maddox. That has nothing to do with you and who you are. Tune out all the noise.”
“And how do you recommend I do that, Tink?” I nipped at her mouth.
“You make peace with it. You have no control over him or his choices, so you can’t be held accountable for them. You’re a good man, Maddox Lancaster. That’s all that matters.”
Goddamn, she was sweet.
“You sound like a therapist.”
“Meh. The apple never falls far from the tree. Now, drop your pants and get in the tub, Bossman.”
I laughed. Hell, I’d never laughed more than I have since I’d met her.
So, I did what she said, and I climbed into the tub that looked like it was older than dirt.
And then she slipped in after me and settled between my legs.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t mind taking a bath at all.
Because I didn’t mind anything as long as she was with me.
twenty-five
Georgia
We’d been backat the office for two weeks, and I’d just been bumped from the top of the ping-pong championship by Craig in marketing, and I groaned when I set my paddle down in defeat. The guy had apparently been practicing while we’d been off work for that week after Christmas, and I’d been too busy boning Bossman to think about ping-pong.
Everyone was clapping me on the back and telling me I’d get back up there again, and I almost felt bad for Craig that no one seemed thrilled by his win.
“Good game. You smoked me,” I said, smiling up at him when he set his paddle down and came to my side of the table.
“So, I won the game, but can I win the girl?” He waggled his brows.
What? Where did that come from?
I laughed nervously. Sure, Craig had flirted with me a few times, but nothing extreme. “I think moving your name to the top of the whiteboard is a big enough win for the day, right?”
He moved closer. “I’m serious, Georgia. I’ve been sneaking out on my breaks and making Freddy play with me every day just to impress you.”
Damn. I’d been much happier when I was sitting in the top spot. Beating me did not make me want to date him; it made me want to get better and beat him.
“Well, I am impressed with your ping-pong skills, Craig,” I said, taking a step back until my butt hit the edge of the table.
“Is that the only thing you’re impressed with?” he purred and crowded me once again. I wasn’t loving this side of Craig. Nor was I impressed with his lack of ability to read the room.
