Easton bit his lip as his long arms moved the oars. “I’m not much for conversation. I wasn’t ignoring you before today.”
She looked away. “Memphis said as much.”
“You talk about me with him?” Easton asked, wondering how many of his dark corners she knew about. Obviously enough to think he was a player. In his mind he didn’t play games with girls, he told them what was up coming out the gate. If they thought he was bullshitting, if they thought he’d magically change his mind once they let him hit it—it wasn’t his fault.
She lifted a shoulder. “Memphis tells me about his day every day. If you were in it, he talks about you.”
“What else did Memphis say about me?”
“Are you looking for an ego boost?”
His arms stopped working. It was hard to see her expression, especially since she kept looking away, and her tone was a shy one.
“I am who I am. No matter what anyone says or thinks. I suppose I was trying to figure out what you knew about me so we could skip the small talk.”
Georgia’s eyes flicked to meet his, wondering exactly what kind of invitation he was offering—and how far her nerve would take her tonight.
Easton cleared his throat again and started to move the oars once more. “I meant if you already know who I am then we can talk about other stuff, stuff we have in common.”
“And what do you think we have in common?” she asked, tilting her head.
He shrugged. “I don’t carry around a camera or anything, music, I’m sure we have common bands…the rest, well I guess our roots.”
“You know I like photography?” she asked, leaning forward.
Easton nodded.
“How?”
“How? Every time Memphis comes home from the track he shows off his trip with stacks of pictures. You’re never in them, so I assumed someone had to be handling the camera.”
She was dumbfounded. She loved photography, like loved loved it. No one ever really talked about her hobby though. It was just an ordinary deal. Like Easton said, someone had to handle the camera. But the way he said it, the way he seemed to notice from a distance was blowing her mind.
“I don’t have any roots,” she said just to change the topic. She didn’t want to think about her camera right then. Her father had given her a camera every year for Christmas since she was seven; it was a gift she expected, one she’d never get again. He’d told her he was counting on her to catch the memories. It had made her feel important when she traveled with him, like she had a place in the fast paced world of his career.
“You do,” Easton said humbly.
“This is Memphis’s home,” Georgia said, sitting a little straighter.
Easton furrowed his brow. He may have been out of it the last few days, had few and far between sober hours, but he was positive he’d heard Willowhaven was going to be her home.
“I heard you were moving back months ago, and yesterday Memphis and Calvin, his lawyer buddy, were talking about how it still had to happen.”
Georgia looked down and breathed in so the tears wouldn’t fall. She was set to move in with her father permanently the day he died. Her mother had remarried; Georgia hated her new husband just as much as the one before him. She wanted to be with her dad and brother.
This afternoon, before Georgia struck out to find peace, she and Memphis had gotten into a fight. She told him she was going back with their mom, at least until she finished high school.
She couldn’t deal with being in Willowhaven—it hurt too badly.
In all truth, she knew she was a coward. If she were living out of state with her mom, she could fool herself, pretend her father was waiting on her, only a phone call away. Memphis was sure if she did so, their mother would take what belonged to Georgia, spend her entire inheritance.
“You heard wrong,” she said, her voice trembling. “I waited too long, now it’s pointless.”
Easton started to move the boat toward the next dock. It took him a second to figure out how to respond. He got why she wanted to run, but he knew this would kill Memphis. His sister was his life, always had been—right now they were going to need each other more than ever.
“Lucas would have wanted you here.”
“Well then he shouldn’t have died,” she nearly shouted. “Dads don’t leave, not now—not now they don’t. He should have—he should have—”
“Shh,” Easton said, reaching for her but she jerked back. Embarrassed she’d broken her calm and allowed her selfish anger to surface.
“I get it, I do.”
“Then don’t guilt me into staying with Memphis—he’s got this whole town to lean on. I gotta deal with me.”
“Right,” Easton said under his breath. Knowing if he were her and not seven when he lost his dad, he’d have done the same. “These are still your roots though. You can be ticked off all you want—but no matter where you go, this is home.”
“What makes it home?”
“Us.”
Georgia jarred back a bit, not knowing how to take his one singular word.
“You heard me, this is home for us—go on, run wild or whatever, but this is still home,” he said with a wry grin as he looked back to make sure he was guiding the boat correctly.
“You’re like Memphis. Think this town is some kind of heaven, you like people knowing all about you. You like having to stay in one mold your entire life, knowing if you change people will think you’re a fraud.”
He laughed, which made her cheeks flame. She knew it was too dark for him to see, but it still made her mad. Still made her think this good ‘ol boy was looking at her like some dark emo girl who lived for the morbid.
“It’s been a hell more than a heaven, and I don’t give a damn what people think about me. Everybody changes, clearly,” he said with a nod to her.
“A nod…means what?”
He shrugged. “Blonde looked good on you.”
“You really hate my hair don’t you?”
He laughed, a deep, real, soulful laugh.
She barely stood from her seat and reached across the boat to slap him. When she did so the boat rocked, which scared the hell out of her and made her legs wobble, and the boat rock more. Within a second she felt herself falling to the side.
Her hell-bent aim on the water stopped abruptly. She felt his arms surround her waist and pull her against him.
Easton was still sitting in place, but she was standing between his legs, looking down at his face, which was a breath away from her chest. Her heaving chest, rising and falling with each and every rapid breath.
His hands were braced on her waist, holding her in place, which did little to no good. The boat was still rocking and the moment it rocked harshly with the current she lurched forward, sending them both flying backward in the boat.
Laughing, he carefully reached for her face. She was lying across him, and her hair was a canopy placing them in their own world.
The second his gaze met hers, the instant he saw no humor was in her stare, his entire world changed.
Every warning bell he had was silenced; he didn’t know his own name much less basic morals. Morals which chanted wrong time, place—the wrong girl.
Slowly, he raised his head, his gaze searching hers before rising to her lips. He was straining to stall, to give her any and every chance to stop him, but before he knew it, his lips were on hers.
Scorching fire.
Both of them breathed in as their flesh moved against each other.
It’s just a kiss, sober up you idiot, Easton’s thoughts kept trying tell him. But he wasn’t buying it.
He’d kissed his fair share of girls before—she was different. He felt this girl in his veins; every single movement of her body. He inhaled the scent of her, devoured the taste, and hungered for more.
When she deepened the kiss, when he felt her body move against his he was sure he was dreaming—nothing this simple should turn him on as much as it had.
His han
ds slowly moved down her back, grasping tenderly, yet firmly—he wanted to remember every single thing about the sin he was engulfing.
When his hands reached her waist, her legs fell around him. A near silent moan left his mouth, only to be swallowed by her when she rocked against the hard length of him.
On impulse he raised up, pulling her legs tightly around him. His hands eased up her sides as his lips fell to her neck. With each kiss he breathed in the sweet, innocent aroma of her.
The moment his hand glided over her chest she sighed, and her hands fisted through his dark hair. As she pulled him closer her hips rocked into him daring what little control he had to meet its death.
Flaming hot, this girl was burning him up inside, making his head spin, and they had barely begun. For the first time in Easton’s entire life he felt alive, he felt awake. He had a reason to give a damn.
Avidly, his lips moved up her neck once more. He wanted to taste her lips again, he was craving them. When his hands reached her cheeks he felt her tears.
His heart stopped. He stopped. His gaze slowly moved up her beautiful face finally finding her blue eyes shimmering with even more tears wanting to fall.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. He was waking up, the erotic haze of want was fading and he realized his best friend’s sister was across his lap—he realized he was a cold, selfish bastard.
Georgia shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, moving to give her space and help her onto the bench.
She gripped him, stopping him from doing so. “You stopped it.”
Easton furrowed his brow.
“You took the pain away.”
Easton swallowed fretfully. “I know you want an escape, but the last thing you need right now is a regret.”
Georgia bit her lip as she stared down at him. She wanted to speak but was afraid her emotions would be even more evident in her voice. She didn’t know how to explain to him he took it all away—in his arms she didn’t feel grief for her father, she didn’t feel wrath for her mother, pain for her brother—and regret for every decision she had ever made in her life. She didn’t know how to say when he kissed her she felt alive for the first time ever. Instead she said, “Regretting you is impossible.”
Easton smiled slowly, reached up to wipe away her tears.
“Let’s hope...”
She nodded to agree, then leaned forward to kiss him. His lips did meet hers, only because he was still hungry for the taste of them. But he kept the kiss as innocent as possible as he lifted her back onto her seat.
When he pulled away, he smiled slightly. “Let’s go find some bait.”
Right as he spoke the distant sound of someone yelling had Georgia daring to move into his arms once more.
He laughed. “No one is out here,” he said as he realized he only had one oar now. The other had floated away when he caught her.
“I heard them,” Georgia said, glancing to the bank. She could see lights here and there, but couldn’t make any of it out, the bank was too high.
If she didn’t know any better she would have sworn the voice was her brother calling her home. It took her a second to realize her guilt was messing with her. She had no business alone with Easton, Memphis’s best friend, not now, not ever.
“Town’s right there,” he said with a nod. He’d managed to get them to the next dock. It wasn’t the one he was heading to, the one where the river was really deep and quieter, but with one oar this would have to do.
He secured the boat to the dock. “I’m going to look for bait, be right back,” he said as he climbed out, hoping all the while if he put some space between them he would get his head right, understand how wrong this was.
He felt colder as he walked away, but his head was just as twisted.
When he came back he saw her staring into the distance, listening to the sounds of town, the ‘celebration.’ He knew she didn’t want to hear it, didn’t need to.
He’d looked for another oar, even another boat, but had had no luck. He hardly found any bait. What he did find were an old radio and life jackets, big ones. He only grabbed the jackets at first to tease her, say she clearly needed one. But now looking at how innocently she was staring into the distance, he was changing his story. He planned to use them as pillows. Which was a good excuse as the planks were not awesome to sit on.
She stared at him as he stepped back in the boat, removed the plank he was sitting on and then laid the life jackets down. She watched him as he sat down, moving his long legs in her direction, and started to fiddle with the poles.
“You’re really going to fish?”
He glanced up at her as if to point out what he’d already told her more than once, he meant what he said.
She read his expression. “You said you were proving it was a river.” She lifted her chin. “In all honesty, a creek and river are one and the same anyway, all leading somewhere.”
He held her stare for a second. “Yet, you still wanted me to prove it to you.”
“Did I?”
“Why did you come with me?”
She felt her stomach flip and a surge of butterflies swarm through her entire body. She didn’t know how to read him before their little escapade, now it was hopeless. How carefree he was acting told her she was nothing but another girl to him, which burned. It shouldn’t, but it did just the same.
“Are you always so blunt?” she managed to ask. There was no way in hell she would admit to herself, or him—right then—he was the only person she wanted to be with.
“Yeah,” he said with a lifted brow before going back to his poles.
“What are you going do with them when you catch them?” she asked with a huff.
“Throw ‘em back.”
“Then what’s the point? Why would you put out the bait? Pull them out of their world, scare the hell out them, only to throw them back.”
He glanced up. Over the years he’d gotten pretty good at reading girls, understanding what they meant when they said some off-the-wall shit. He knew when it would lead to some deep conversation. In his past it was all about his fear of commitment or some bullshit.
“To prove I can.”
“Are you serious? Prove you can kill?”
“Survive.” Not on fish of course, with a sane mind. Or so her father had told him once. He’d said the fish only came when you were calm…balanced with nature. ‘It’s best to always be so, son…well, as much as possible,’ he’d said.
“On baby fish who were just minding their own business swimming along. Then someone offers them food and the next thing they know they’re fighting for their life? Can’t freaking breathe—all hot and crazy.”
Yep, he was reading her right. She’d listened to his warning, the one where he told her he was everything she didn’t need.
He wanted to be blunt then, tell her he wasn’t a player. He didn’t put out bait. He took what came to him when the mood struck him, and he would never treat someone like her the way she was accusing. Even if she wasn’t Lucas’s daughter.
Instead, he steered away from the topic.
“Are you a vegetarian or something?”
“No. I just don’t do things unless I have a reason.”
He sat the poles down on the dock. Reached his hand in the water to wash away the bait he’d been trying to gather then leaned back on the life jackets. Which were proving to be the softest seat he’d had all day.
“If you want to fish, fish. I was just asking,” she said as she glanced back at the sound of distant music, to the sound of laughter, the party on the streets of Willowhaven.
Easton reached for the radio and played with the old dials until he found an oldies station. Now, only the sound from the past, the lapping water, and the crickets and frogs on the bank could be heard.
Her eyes met his. “Town is right there?” she asked with a nod to where she was staring before.
Easton ticked his head back. “If you walk up this dock, the hill, and a hal
f mile down the street and hang a right, a block later you’ll be at your grandmother’s.” He smiled slowly. “If you come here you can see the fireflies instead,” he said in a low tone.
From where he was sitting you couldn’t see the lights of town, only further down the river, into the serenity of darkness.
He adjusted a few of the jackets trying to offer a softer landing for her, but the boat was too narrow. To not face town she’d have to pretty much be in his lap, at least her legs.
“I won’t bite,” he said with a slow smile. “No regrets, remember?”
“So says the man with the hook,” Georgia said in an even tone. She meant it as a joke, but Easton seemed to take it personally, even looked away which made her feel horrible.
She let her knees fall off the plank she was on and crawled forward on the life jackets. It was an awkward twist of legs between the two of them, rocking the boat, which had them both laughing.
When it was said and done, her legs were draped across his, his arm was around her, and their bodies were side by side.
It took her a second but she relaxed into him and let her head rest on his shoulder as the boat rocked with the current to the sound of the radio. Moments later she felt him breathe out, tension leave his body.
Easton kept telling his heart to settle. He knew where she was laying on him it wouldn’t be hard for her to hear it, for her to know the effect she was having on him.
He also told himself this was innocent. He was just consoling her, giving her a chance to hide from the crowd.
He even thought back to the day she had found him in the fire truck, how she’d held his hand. He thought of how Lucas had been the one to come after him, how he took him to this very river and carried him home later, sound asleep in his arms, managing to successfully put Easton at ease.
His arm moved around Georgia then slid her more so on him. He’d felt her tremble. It wasn’t cold, but he knew if she was against him the chill which lingered near the river constantly would stay at bay.
“This music is insane,” she said after a moment. “So happy.”