Colby smiled. “Keats, I don’t remember giving you permission to kiss my girl.”
Keats glanced over his shoulder at him. “Punish me later, Teach. Whatever the consequences are, they will have been well worth it.”
“Mmm,” Colby said noncommittally. “Or maybe I’ll just let her do it.”
Keats coughed, or maybe it was a choke, but he looked more turned on at the thought than worried. Colby would’ve called him a slut if he didn’t think Keats would perceive it as an insult.
Georgia put a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “Well, you two said you came over here to distract me. Mission accomplished.”
Colby walked over to her and tugged her into his arms. She came willingly, bringing her body up against his and peering up at him. He pushed a hair away from her cheek. “So what do you want to do next, Ms. Delaune? Sprinklers? Ordering Keats to take off his shirt and clean up the mess he made with the dishes?”
She smirked but there was a resolute look to her gaze. “It’s Lawrence, not Delaune. And no, I don’t want to do any of that. I want the two of you to take me out of here to get some new cups and maybe to lunch. And then wherever else you want to go. I don’t want you to let me back in my house until it’s time to go to sleep.”
Colby tightened his hold on her, hope building in him. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She looked to Keats, then back to Colby. “And if I panic and embarrass you while we’re out, I’m giving you permission to leave me be and pretend you don’t know me.”
Colby grabbed her chin. “Shut your mouth, Georgia Lawrence. You think I give a shit what anyone else thinks? You panic, we’ve got you covered.”
“Damn straight,” Keats said, stepping closer to them. “You’re safe with us, George.”
She smiled at the two of them, her gaze softening. “I know. I feel that. Thank you.”
Colby’s heart felt as if it had inflated in his chest. Trust. Coming from someone like Georgia, it was like pure gold being dropped in his hands. He wanted to lift her up, kiss her, tell her he was honored to have it because he knew how valuable a commodity it was for her. But he held himself in check. He needed to play it cool.
Even if he felt anything but on the inside.
Damn, he was fucked.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Georgia’s heart was beating so fast, she was surprised the pendant around her neck wasn’t vibrating from it, but so far, she hadn’t gone into full panic. Colby had arranged for them to eat in the private dining room at Sawgrass, one of his best friend Kade’s restaurants. They’d had to walk through the busy restaurant to get to the private space, and that had sent her brain firing with worries as she scanned the faces in the crowd. But having Colby’s arm around her had helped. Beyond being a reassuring emotional presence, his sheer size provided a feeling of safety on some elemental, cavewoman level. If someone wanted to hurt her, not many people would mess with a guy as big and intimidating-looking as Colby. And though Keats wasn’t as massive as Colby, she had a feeling he could be as vicious and tough as a junkyard dog when provoked.
So sitting between the two of them had her more settled than she’d been in over a year in any public place. She could breathe a little. And the air smelled damn sweet.
She still couldn’t get over all the events of today. The morning had started off so awful and bleak. And when Colby and Keats had shown up, she’d been more than annoyed that they’d ignored her orders to stay away. She’d wanted to lock herself in the darkness.
But then so much had changed so quickly when she hadn’t been able to scare them off. Just saying her story out loud to someone who wasn’t Leesha or a lawyer had felt liberating. Her secrets were like bars on a cage, keeping everyone at a distance while simultaneously holding her hostage. With secrets, she was only a character playing a role, a fake. So throwing back the curtain and putting it all out there had taken some of the power out of the memories and had brought her closer to the two men she’d confided in.
Then there’d been dishes breaking. And strange relief. And Keats had kissed her. Really kissed her. The dynamics had shifted to sandy terrain again, leaving her unsure where exactly this was going. Colby hadn’t seemed to mind the kiss. In fact, he’d looked like he’d enjoyed the show. Kinky bastard. And God knows her mind had been whirling on the drive over here, wondering what exactly had transpired between the two men. That speculating had painted some very vivid pictures in her head. But she knew this could be dangerous territory.
Keats and Colby had something new between them, and she got the sense there was more than just a hot hookup brewing there. There were feelings. And though she was attracted to them both and more than tempted by the thought of falling into bed with them, she didn’t want to screw up what they had going on. She was in no position to get involved in anything serious when she hoped to move back to Chicago in January. Plus, she didn’t want to muddle things for them.
Georgia tried to shake off the worries and focus on the conversation the two men were having.
“So they still haven’t given you any idea how long you’re going to be on leave?” she asked.
Colby’s expression had darkened considerably in the last few minutes at the shift in topic. “No. My boss says it’s mostly posturing by the board. They want to look like they’re doing everything they can so that the parents don’t sue. But when I talked to the powers that be yesterday, it was like I was on trial. I’m worried they’re going to cover their ass by throwing mine under the bus.”
“That’s bullshit,” Keats said, his jaw twitching. “Why doesn’t the kid step up and tell everybody it had nothing to do with you?”
Colby sighed. “The kid’s parents didn’t listen to him before. They’re not going to now. He’s tried to tell them what happened.”
“You shouldn’t have to take the fall for a messed-up kid with messed-up parents making a dumb decision,” Keats said. “Not again.”
Colby sent Keats a tired look. “Last time I earned some of that fall.”
“No. You didn’t.” He smirked after a few seconds. “But damn, you’d be hanged in the town square if they saw us now. Nobody would believe nothing happened back then.”
Colby shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. “God, I don’t want to even think about that.”
Georgia smiled. “You two would be quite the scandal, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Keats said in between bites of food. “They’d probably think that we ran away together back then and have been hiding out in secret since—my innocent straight mind brainwashed by the big, bad bisexual teacher.”
Colby sent him a wry smile—one laced with affection. And in that moment, Georgia felt the two’s shared history like a fourth member at the table. She believed them when they said that nothing inappropriate had happened between them back then, but she also could tell their bond had started way before this recent reunion.
Maybe she should step back and get out of their way.
“She’s thinking too hard again,” Keats observed as he twirled some pasta on his fork.
“What’s got that wrinkle in your brow, gorgeous?”
“Nothing, really.” She smoothed the edge of the tablecloth. “I guess I’m just processing everything. It’s been a crazy few days.”
Colby held out a bite of his steak. “Stop analyzing everything and give yourself a break. We have good food, good wine, and good company. Sit back and enjoy.”
She took the bite, chewed, then took a sip of her wine. “You’re right. If I overthink this one, my brain will explode.”
Colby leaned back in his chair, fingering his wineglass and considering her. “You mean thinking about being out of the house?”
“Sure, but also being here with you two.” She adjusted the napkin in her lap. “I have to be honest. I keep bouncing from feeling like I’m with friends to feeling like
we’re all on a date to feeling like an interloper between you two. It’s scrambling my brain a little.”
“If you’re an interloper, then I am, too,” Keats said with a shrug. “You two were together first.”
Colby sipped his wine, then set it down. “I think there are a lot of blurred lines at this table, and trying to label them right now is a pointless exercise. God knows every time I try to draw a line with this one”—he tipped his head toward Keats—“the guy bounds right over it.”
Keats smirked. “Boing, boing.”
“But know”—he reached out and gave Georgia’s hand a squeeze—“there are no expectations. We’re here because we wanted to spend the day together. There’s no pressure for anything beyond that.”
She let her hand curl into his.
“He’s right,” Keats said, his amused expression sobering. “I know I was out of line kissing you like that this morning. I acted first, thought second. Kind of a bad habit of mine. But I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to horn my way in on what you two have going on. Just because Colby’s a total manwhore who’s fooling around with both of us—”
“Hey now, watch it, smartass,” Colby said, narrowing his gaze.
Georgia bit her lip, trying not to smile.
“All I’m saying,” Keats continued, “is that I’m not going to interfere if you and Colby want to do your own thing.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, not exactly in a place to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, much less Keats individually. But she couldn’t deny that the kiss had made it hard to focus on the reasons why she shouldn’t want Keats. “Same goes for me. Last thing I want to do is get in the way with you two.”
Colby looked between the two of them, a sly smile touching his lips. “Eat, both of you. We’ve got the whole afternoon ahead of us.”
Keats lifted his glass. “Here’s to George’s first day out of prison! May she make this day her bitch.”
Georgia laughed and lifted her wine. “Hear, hear.”
They all clinked their glasses together, and Georgia closed her eyes, tasting the freedom in the moment.
Maybe she could win this battle after all.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Colby and Georgia had been in his bedroom way too long. Colby had said they were going in there to find a movie for all of them to watch, but that’d been half an hour ago. Keats tried not to feel left out as he sat sprawled on the couch, strumming his guitar. Their day out had been more successful than he’d expected after everything that had happened this morning. He’d been worried that it would be too much for Georgia, that the outing would overwhelm her. But she’d been determined to fight today and she’d kicked ass.
They’d kept it low-key. After Sawgrass, they’d gone to a quiet suburban shopping area and picked out new coffee cups to replace the ones they’d demolished. Georgia had had one rocky moment in one of the shops when a dark-haired man in a suit had brushed by her. She’d seized up and her fingernails had dug into Keats’s arm. Apparently, the guy had resembled Phillip. But Colby had swooped in and steered her out into the fresh air, leading her through some breathing exercise all the while, and calmed her before her anxiety took her off the rails.
Keats had been fascinated watching Colby slip into therapist mode, seeing that uncanny ability to morph his hard-edged dominance into this gentle but firmly reassuring presence. Georgia had responded to it instantly, and Keats had been glad it had been so effective. But while watching the two of them huddled together, he’d also felt his age and inexperience acutely for the first time. He could make women laugh, he could turn them on, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to be such a steady rock for someone, like Colby was. Colby was solid—the kind of guy built for marriage and fatherhood and all the hard stuff. The stuff someone like Georgia would eventually want. The stuff Keats wasn’t sure he was capable of.
So right then and there, Keats knew that even if something happened between all three of them, Keats would eventually become the bonus prize at the bottom of the cereal box—a fun thing to have around but not the stuff that nourished you. He was the expendable one in this equation. And he needed to keep that in the front of his mind going forward. He couldn’t lose himself to it. He’d already left himself too open by singing to Colby last night and letting some feelings show. That shit needed to stop. This was temporary fun, and he needed to enjoy it for that. Otherwise, he was going to get himself crushed.
After the day out, they’d come back to Colby’s. They’d ordered pizza and Georgia had managed to make it through the rest of the evening without any panic attacks. During dinner, they’d all shared a few beers, and Keats had finally been able to relax a little and find some peace in his role. They’d laughed and told stories about this and that. It’d felt warm and laid-back and like they all had been hanging out forever. And for a little while, Keats had felt a part of something instead of sitting outside the borders. But then Georgia and Colby had gone off to Colby’s room, reminding Keats of his place in this group, and the chill had settled in again.
Keats released a long breath and focused on strumming the notes for the song he was tinkering with. If nothing else, the last few days had provided a crap-ton of fodder for new songs. Nothing like your entire world and what you thought of yourself rearranging beneath you to inspire new material. Though the song he was fooling around with right now would get his ass beat down in most of the honky-tonks around town since it was clearly about a dude. Maybe he could go to open mic nights in gay bars.
Gay bars.
He shook his head at the thought. He’d have no fucking clue how to navigate those waters. When this all ended with Colby, would those be the kinds of places he would go? Now that he’d ventured down that road, would he crave men in the same way he craved women? All he could picture was one of the gay clubs downtown that looked like it was trying to revive Studio 54. So not his scene. Or what if he found that he couldn’t do without the kink? Where the hell would he seek that out? He sure as shit couldn’t afford the place Colby belonged to.
Suddenly, he had new understanding for how tough it must’ve been for Colby growing up in the middle of backwoods Texas and not just bi but deeply dominant and craving kink. What a fucking nightmare.
His fingers played over the strings with no real direction now, and he shifted on the couch, considering getting up and going to his room. He’d spent last night and this morning with Colby; he should let Georgia and Colby have some real time alone. But right when he set his guitar aside, the two of them walked back into the living room. Colby had his arm around Georgia’s waist and his button-down flannel shirt looked wrinkled. Georgia’s halo of hair was even more wild than usual. Almost fucked. That was the look. She wore it well.
Heat pooled low, Keats’s body waking at the sight of the two of them. Hell.
“Found what you were looking for?” Keats asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Colby held up a DVD of some zombie flick. “Yep. Turns out Georgia is a horror fan.”
“Only the supernatural stuff,” she clarified. “Nothing that could really happen. I save that for my books.”
Keats schooled his expression into a serious one. “Zombies could totally happen.”
Colby put his hands out to his sides. “Right? That’s what I’m saying. But she wanted this one anyway.”
Colby headed over to the DVD player and squatted down in front of the big screen on the wall. Georgia glanced at Keats’s guitar. “You sure you still want to watch with us? I don’t want to interrupt if you want to play.”
Keats didn’t know if she was being nice or if she really wanted him to be here. “I can leave you two alone. I don’t want to bother—”
“Scoot over and make room, Keats,” Colby said, his back still to them. “You’re not ditching movie night.”
A command, not a request. Dominant fucker. He shifted o
ver and Georgia sat down next to him. God, she smelled good. Like some sort of spice—cinnamon, cloves, and something else he couldn’t quite place—probably eau de Colby. He tried not to notice how well-kissed her lips looked—glossy and a little puffy. Or maybe she’d been sucking Colby off. Keats’s stomach tightened, and he was unsure what turned him on more, the thought of Georgia wrapping her pretty mouth around him or the thought of being on his knees for Colby. He let his head fall back against the couch. He was a disaster. A horny disaster.
Georgia reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Hey, everything okay? I noticed you were moving a little slower this afternoon. Are you still sore?”
Yes, right between my goddamned legs. Can you make it better, please? He lifted his head and caught Georgia’s concerned gaze. He mustered up a small smile for her. “I’m all right. The injuries aren’t as bad as they look. It’s just been a long couple of days.”
She sent a sidelong glance toward Colby before looking back to him and lowering her voice to a near-whisper. “Do you want me to leave? I mean, if you need some time with Colby.”
He reached out and tugged one of her tight corkscrew curls, liking the way it sprang back when he released it. “No, George. I want you right here.” He looped his arms around her shoulder and then turned his head toward Colby. “Teach, I’m hijacking your woman for the movie. She’s warm and smells good.”
Colby peered back over his shoulder at the two of them. “That’s up to Georgia.”
Georgia’s gaze moved between the two of them. “Fine by me.” She settled her back against his side. “And Keats, let’s not pretend that you aren’t trying to hug up on me because you’re the one freaked-out by zombies.”
“Yes, you’re right. The undead aren’t to be messed with. I apologize early if I end up burying my face in your hair or something.”
“Or something,” she repeated under her breath.