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“What are you doing?”
“Documenting this moment for our grandkids,”I say from offscreen.
Her eyes roll, but she’s delighted and adorable and sexy as fuck in that little crocheted halter she’s got on.“Georgeous, you going to let me kiss you again?”
And she grins, pulling me down to sit beside her on the sand.“Not on camera.”
“Just one. You can send it to me so I’ve got something for between visits.”
Her hand covers the lens but not completely. And then after a few seconds drops away, or maybe it’s the camera that drops because then the angle is different and we’re in the corner of the screen, but you can see both our faces. Hers sort of stunned in breathless surprise. I’m pulling back, all my swagger lost in the look I’m giving this girl. I swallow and nod just a little. She nods too, a look in her eyes I’ve only begun to see in this last week. But it was there seven years ago. It’s unmistakable.
Love.
A younger me fumbles for the camera and the scene cuts. I swipe through to the next photos. Georgie, looking back at me and my fingers playing with a bit of her hair. A selfie of our younger selves completely oblivious to what the next day and years would bring.
And then me. Another video clip, and I’m filling the screen, leaning in like I’ve got some kind of secret to tell. I’m looking at the lens and rubbing my hand over my heart. And my smile. Christ, I can’t remember the last time I smiled like that. Like it was coming from the very deepest part of me. Like my happiness was so complete nothing could touch it.
“Georgie, your phone’s almost out of juice, so I’m gonna say this quick, so you don’t forget it. One look at you and I knew… I found the girl I’m going to marry.”
I laugh, turning back to George, who’s smiling beside me. Her eyes filled with joy instead of hurt.
“So this guy beat me to it, huh?”
She strokes a finger over the screen, tenderly closing it out. “I wasn’t going to hold him to it.”
“No?” I pull her over my lap, so she’s straddling me, her knees at my hips, my hands on hers. More focused on our future than our past, I ask, “How about me, Georgeous?”
She arches a brow, giving me that bit of the edge I love so much as she smiles down at me. “You? Oh, you’re mine now. I’m holding on to you forever.”
That works out just fine. Because I’m never letting this girl go. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Quinn. With everything I have, nothing held back. I’m yours.”
Epilogue
George
Off-Season
“Georgeous, I know you’re tired. But baby, we gotta get up.”
I roll to my stomach, burying myself deep beneath our fluffy duvet. “I wouldn’t be so tired ifsomeonehadn’t kept me up half the night.”
There’s a huff of laughter from the end of the bed, and I grip the covers, trying to hold on.
Not my first rodeo.
One gruff “Sorry” that totally doesn’t sound sorry and a firm tug later, I’m giggling facedown in our bed, nothing but a pair of panties and a tank top covering me. Well, that and Quinn, who’s crawling up the bed, his mouth moving over my calves and the backs of my knees with hungry kisses. His tongue sliding up my thigh.
“Baby, you know I want to stay in bed with you all day. But no way am I going to be late for your dad’s barbecue.”
He should have thought of that before all the leg kissing, because now I want to stay in bed, but for a different reason altogether. Tipping my hips toward his kiss, I bite my bottom lip when he gives me that man-on-the-edge growl and grips my hips.
“You think today’s the day?” I ask a little breathlessly, loving the feel of his hands moving over me, his mouth.
“Oh yeah. I’ve got this.”
It’s been six months since Quinn started asking my dad for my hand; six months and thirteen denials. And while Quinn keeps walking out of his office with a smile on his face and no hard feelings, promising me he’ll win him over next time… I’m getting impatient.
