Chapter 19
Brian
The doorbell rings and my nerves spring into overdrive. I’ve been pacing by the door for probably ten minutes, waiting for Georgia to arrive. I’d invited her over for dinner tonight, and now I’m wondering if that was the right thing to do.
We’ve gone out twice since our lunch last week when she confronted me in my office. We ended up uniting nicely to get to the bottom of Lexi’s issues, and I was so relieved to have done so, I impulsively invited her to dinner that night.
That went very well, and I found out that not only is Georgia gorgeous and clearly brilliant, she’s also an amazing conversationalist. She’s still nutty as hell and constantly provoking, but I’m finding that I like the way she tries to get under my skin.
One more lunch two days ago, also a fabulous time, and then I had a business trip that took me to New York for two days. I talked to her last night and invited her over to dinner, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now I’m not so sure, because inviting her to my house sends all kinds of messages that could become mixed up in that crazy head of hers.
But now it’s too late to worry about it, as she’s standing on the other side of my door. After taking a deep breath, looking down at my body and hoping she appreciates the fact I went with jeans and a casual sweater tonight, I swing the door open.
I take in everything about her in a quick sweep of my eyes, noting the gloriously long and curly hair, the multitude of jewelry, and the brightly patterned skirt that hangs loose and flowing down her legs with what looks like cowboy boots underneath. She’s topped it off with a dark brown leather blazer, an equally bright scarf around her neck, and a subtle whiff of perhaps vanilla and honey when she walks in.
“Jesus, Brian,” she says as she turns around in the grand foyer, taking it all in. “You live in a freaking palace.”
Hardly, I think to myself, but I watch her carefully. Her gaze goes to the curved floating staircase under which is a marble koi pond with a waterfall built into the underside of the stairs. She looks past that into the massive formal room with its red and gold carpet custom rug that holds couches, chairs, and chaises, along with tables and a grand piano. It could easily hold a hundred people and not be cramped. Finally, her gaze drifts across the cream marble flooring to the dining room to the right with a table that seats twenty and a chandelier hanging low over it that’s as big as a small car.
When she completes her circle and faces me, she cocks an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what to make of this.”
“What do you mean?” I ask curiously. “Surely you get I’m rich, right?”
She snorts at me, drops her purse onto the round foyer table, and starts to take her leather jacket off. “Of course I knew you were rich. I just didn’t realize you lived in a freaking palace.”
“It’s hardly a palace,” I mutter as I hold my hand out for her jacket.
“It’s got to be at least ten thousand square feet,” she says in awe as she looks around again. “What could one man do with that much room?”
“It’s a little over sixteen thousand square feet,” I correct her as I take her by the elbow and start to steer her through the house. “And Gray did live here before she went off to college.”
“You know,” she says sweetly as we enter the kitchen. “This ostentatious display of wealth could be overcompensation.”
“Excuse me?” I ask with surprise as I drape her jacket over the back of an island stool and motion with my hand for her to sit. “Overcompensation for what?”
Georgia’s eyes flash mischievously but she shrugs with an innocent air. “Oh, I don’t know…I’m just saying…”
Yeah, I know exactly what she’s saying, and I also don’t even bother to engage her because I know that’s what she wants. Georgia loves to bait me.
Narrowing my eyes at her, I redirect her attention. “Would you like some wine or perhaps a mixed drink?”
“Why?” she challenges me. “You going to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”
My brain actually wars with itself. The stuffy, staid executive within me wants to take offense she would ever think I’d do something like that, and another part of me wants to drag her off to my bedroom so I can assure her I don’t need wine to loosen us up.
“Georgia,” I chide, hell-bent on getting the upper hand. “Why do you have to resort to these underhanded tactics to get me to admit that I want you?”
And for the first time since I’ve met this wicked and wild woman, her jaw drops and she’s absolutely speechless. I just smile blandly at her, waiting for her to get her bearings back.
Because Georgia is fruity at the best of times and unpredictable at the worst, I have no clue how she’ll respond. So I’m not exactly surprised when she bypasses the stool I’d offered her and instead walks right into my personal space until we are mere inches from each other. I top her by almost a foot, so I look down as she looks up, and her brown eyes are dark but glittering with something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it makes my blood start to race.
“You need to kiss me right now,” she demands, although it’s done sweetly, and with her southern twang that makes it adorable.
“Really?” I ask as I bring my hands to her shoulders.
“Yes,” she says with a nod. “Now would be a good time.”
And I couldn’t agree with her more. It’s time. It’s way past time, as a matter of fact.
I bend my head down as Georgia raises to her tiptoes, and I brush my lips lightly against hers. Her arms go around my neck, her fingers into my hair, and she presses her mouth insistently against mine. The minute her tongue touches the tip of mine, my head actually swims from the overload of feelings rushing through me. Lust, wonder, fear.
Yes, fear, because it’s been awhile since I’ve done this.
I haven’t been a celibate man all these years since my wife died, but I haven’t exactly been active the last few years, preferring to immerse myself in work.
But this, right here? It’s amazing and thrilling and I suddenly want more. I want to experience everything with Georgia, and if the tightening in my pants is any indication, there’s quite a bit of Georgia I want.
My hands drop from her shoulders, slip around her waist, and I pull her in tight to me. Georgia lets out a tiny moan when her belly presses against my erection, and for a brief moment, I’m embarrassed.
But the embarrassment passes, because Georgia makes a moaning sound of need, then presses in tighter against me and suddenly, now all I can think about is getting our clothes off and taking her to bed.
“Well, this is an awkward scene to walk into,” I hear from behind Georgia, and I immediately recognize my daughter’s voice.
I immediately release Georgia, thankful that the kitchen island stands between Gray and me and she can’t see the embarrassing problem in my pants at this moment.
Georgia turns as she carefully runs a hand around the edges of her lips, perhaps in a subconscious move to check for smeared lipstick, but it hasn’t smeared in the slightest.
And there Gray stands in my kitchen, twirling her keys on one of her fingers with a mischievous look on her face. “Guess I should have knocked, huh?”
I give her an admonishing look, because Gray never has to knock on my door. Besides that, she has a key.
“Gray,” I say as my hand goes to Georgia’s lower back. “This is Georgia Mack. My date for the night.”
“Date? Is that what they call making out in the kitchen?” Gray asks smugly, her eyebrow cocked at me before turning her attention to Georgia. She nods her head and beams a smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Georgia. I’ve heard a lot about you from Dad and Lexi.”
“It’s great to meet you too,” Georgia says sweetly.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, curious about why she’s dropped by. Gray’s so busy these days she hardly ever comes over.
Reaching into her purse, she pulls out an envelope and steps up to the island to hand it across to me. “You left early today and I went into your office to leave you a note for tomorrow, since I’m going to be gone, and I saw your mail there. This was lying on top and I figured you’d want it.”
I take the envelope from her and my eyes immediately focus on the logo on the return address. “The DNA results,” I murmur.
“Open it, Dad,” Gray says softly. “Let’s make this reality.”
“You know,” Georgia pipes in, sounding extremely nervous. “This is a private moment. I actually should go, give you two time to process whatever’s in that envelope.”
“Nonsense,” I say without looking at Georgia, my fingers automatically tearing it open. “You’re Lexi’s closest friend and like a mother to her. I know she’d want you here, and so do I.”
The minute those words are out, I realize they’re true. Whatever has been going on between Georgia and me, when you move past all of the teasing, baiting, and downright flirty innuendo that goes on, I’ve developed some deep feelings for her.
“Okay,” she says with a smile. “I’ll stay then.”
I don’t look back at her as my heart is beating so hard I’m afraid I might stroke out. I pull out the letter and realize my hands are shaking as I open it.
I’m immediately assaulted by columns and numbers on the page, some circled in different colors. Words jump out at me like child and alleged father and allele. My eyes scan furiously down the page until I get to the word that matters the most.
Probability.
And next to it: 99.9 percent.
“She’s mine,” I whisper, my throat almost completely clogged by emotion. I mean…I knew it deep in my gut she was my daughter, but seeing it proven this way is like finding the joy of it—the absolute miracle—all over again. Looking back up at Gray, I see her eyes are moist and I cough before saying, “She’s ours.”
Then Gray is around the counter and in my arms, with her face buried into my shoulder as we hug and laugh, and fuck it, I go ahead and cry too. I feel Georgia’s hand press into my lower back, and I risk a glance at her. I’m touched to see tears streaming down her face as well.
Finally, Gray pulls away and wipes at the tears. She laughs as she looks at me with a watery smile and says, almost in wonder, “I have a sister.”
“And I have another daughter,” I say, beyond thrilled, and happy and fulfilled. But then to lighten the mood I add, “I’m too old for this shit.”
“You are not too old for this shit,” Gray chastises as she punches me lightly on my shoulder.
“I feel it,” I grumble, tapping my fist against my chest. “I almost had a heart attack reading that.”
Gray snorts. “You’re the youngest sixty-year-old I know.”
“I’m sixty-one,” I point out.
“Bruce Willis is almost sixty-one and he’s out filming action movies and dating hot young women, Brian,” Georgia offers. “I think he should be the standard. There are many, many hot, vibrant men out there in their sixties.”
“Oh, how about Pierce Brosnan?” Gray suggests as she looks from me to Georgia.
“And Denzel Washington,” Georgia adds.
“Kevin Costner,” Gray says with a girly sigh.
“Liam Neeson,” Georgia sighs dreamily.
They both look at each other, and almost simultaneously say in dramatic fashion, “Richard Gere.”
“Okay, enough,” I say with a laugh as I turn away from both of these women who are enjoying themselves a little too much. I grab a bottle of red wine I’d pulled from the cellar earlier and hold it up. “Want to stay for dinner, Gray?”
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m not about to impede on your ‘date,’ ” she says, holding up sarcastic air quotes. “But maybe we can all go out and celebrate. There’s a game tomorrow night, so night after next?”
“Sounds good to me,” I agree as I start to open the wine. “I’ll call Lexi tonight and tell her the results, but first, we celebrate with a glass of wine.”
“I’ll pass,” Gray says, then turns to Georgia. She puts a hand out. “It was really nice meeting you.”
Georgia bats Gray’s hand away and wraps her up in a hug, which she immediately succumbs to with a twinkling smile at me over Georgia’s shoulders. Gray even gives a thumbs-up sign to me surreptitiously and I grin back at my daughter.
One of my two daughters.
Hot damn, this is turning into a great night, and by the way Georgia and I were kissing before Gray’s arrival, I’m betting it will continue to get better.