love, so easy to forgive his faults. Her bedroom had been next to her parents’, so she’d overheard their late-night arguments over his infrequent, but hurtful, infidelities. Her mother would cry and be morose for days, but he would bring her gifts and eventually coax a smile from her by whispering sweet things in her ear and kissing her neck.
Georgia stood up. “I have to go.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Already?”
“Yes. Th-thank you for rounding up your comrades last night. Many of them signed up to give regularly.”
“That’s good,” he said. “But I was hoping that you and I might have longer to talk today.”
She brushed crumbs from her lap and fed her last bite to Crash. “Sorry, I still have to shop for a wedding gift for tomorrow.”
“What about the pictures?”
With hurried hands, she removed the camera and took a couple of shots of Crash from different angles. “I’ll mail them to you,” she said as she crammed the camera back into the bag.
“I thought you were going to take some photos of the park.”
“I changed my mind. Thanks for the hot dog.”
“How about dinner?” he asked, standing. “Georgia, I’d like to get to know you better.”
Her breath caught in her chest. Ken Medlock was too overwhelming, too…potent. She and Rob were intellectual equals, who now shared a sensual bond as well. She wasn’t about to throw all of that away because she was physically attracted to a cocky self-proclaimed bachelor cop.
“I can’t,” she murmured. “Like I said, I have Rob.”
He pursed his mouth.
She swallowed, and her ears popped with the released pressure.
“Did you tell him what I asked you to last night—that I think he’s a lucky man?”
Georgia nodded.
“And what did he say?”
She inhaled. “He asked me if he should be jealous.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him no, because…”
“Because?”
Best to nip this flirtation in the bud. She exhaled. “Because you’re not my type.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, a small smile on his lips. “What type am I?”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek.
He leaned forward on the table, his face inches from hers. “Georgia,” he said softly, “what type am I?”
Her throat convulsed. The type of man who could set her world on end. Send her spiraling into decadence. His eyes searched hers, and she was afraid of what he saw. She wanted to pull away, but their mouths were like inverse magnets, the attraction growing stronger exponentially as the space between them closed millimeter by millimeter.
Georgia didn’t know what she expected, but the electricity of his lips meeting hers was an intoxicating, luxurious feeling of pure indulgence. Like eating white-chocolate-covered cherries while relaxing in a deep, fragrant bath as hot as the body could stand. She opened her mouth to receive him, flicking the tip of her tongue against his teeth in invitation. He accepted with a deep moan that vibrated inside her mouth, sending a stab of desire straight to her belly, and moisture to her—
Georgia pulled back, and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. What had she done?
He remained leaning forward, his mouth open a fraction, his brow furrowed. “Georgia?”
This was sheer lunacy. The man was a player, and she’d fallen for it. Mortified, she stumbled backward, away from the confining picnic table. “You’re the typeof man…who would kiss a woman who’s involved with another man.” She wiped at her mouth, breathing hard. “I…I don’t like the way you make me feel. I try to be an honest person, Ken, just as I expect the man I’m seeing to be honest with me.”
He didn’t answer, just stared at her.
“You probably think that’s old-fashioned,” she said with an awkward but sober laugh. “But trust is very important to me.”
A flush darkened his face. Perhaps she’d spoken too vehemently, but the words needed to be said, if only for her own ears. After all, if
Georgia stood up. “I have to go.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Already?”
“Yes. Th-thank you for rounding up your comrades last night. Many of them signed up to give regularly.”
“That’s good,” he said. “But I was hoping that you and I might have longer to talk today.”
She brushed crumbs from her lap and fed her last bite to Crash. “Sorry, I still have to shop for a wedding gift for tomorrow.”
“What about the pictures?”
With hurried hands, she removed the camera and took a couple of shots of Crash from different angles. “I’ll mail them to you,” she said as she crammed the camera back into the bag.
“I thought you were going to take some photos of the park.”
“I changed my mind. Thanks for the hot dog.”
“How about dinner?” he asked, standing. “Georgia, I’d like to get to know you better.”
Her breath caught in her chest. Ken Medlock was too overwhelming, too…potent. She and Rob were intellectual equals, who now shared a sensual bond as well. She wasn’t about to throw all of that away because she was physically attracted to a cocky self-proclaimed bachelor cop.
“I can’t,” she murmured. “Like I said, I have Rob.”
He pursed his mouth.
She swallowed, and her ears popped with the released pressure.
“Did you tell him what I asked you to last night—that I think he’s a lucky man?”
Georgia nodded.
“And what did he say?”
She inhaled. “He asked me if he should be jealous.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him no, because…”
“Because?”
Best to nip this flirtation in the bud. She exhaled. “Because you’re not my type.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, a small smile on his lips. “What type am I?”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek.
He leaned forward on the table, his face inches from hers. “Georgia,” he said softly, “what type am I?”
Her throat convulsed. The type of man who could set her world on end. Send her spiraling into decadence. His eyes searched hers, and she was afraid of what he saw. She wanted to pull away, but their mouths were like inverse magnets, the attraction growing stronger exponentially as the space between them closed millimeter by millimeter.
Georgia didn’t know what she expected, but the electricity of his lips meeting hers was an intoxicating, luxurious feeling of pure indulgence. Like eating white-chocolate-covered cherries while relaxing in a deep, fragrant bath as hot as the body could stand. She opened her mouth to receive him, flicking the tip of her tongue against his teeth in invitation. He accepted with a deep moan that vibrated inside her mouth, sending a stab of desire straight to her belly, and moisture to her—
Georgia pulled back, and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. What had she done?
He remained leaning forward, his mouth open a fraction, his brow furrowed. “Georgia?”
This was sheer lunacy. The man was a player, and she’d fallen for it. Mortified, she stumbled backward, away from the confining picnic table. “You’re the typeof man…who would kiss a woman who’s involved with another man.” She wiped at her mouth, breathing hard. “I…I don’t like the way you make me feel. I try to be an honest person, Ken, just as I expect the man I’m seeing to be honest with me.”
He didn’t answer, just stared at her.
“You probably think that’s old-fashioned,” she said with an awkward but sober laugh. “But trust is very important to me.”
A flush darkened his face. Perhaps she’d spoken too vehemently, but the words needed to be said, if only for her own ears. After all, if
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