Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
But she’d made it work, it had personality, and it stated plain there was more to Georgiana.
She dove deep into her job, it meant something to her, and she was good at it.
Her roommate had abandoned her cat, and Georgie had adopted it.
She’d blown it with Dutch, liked him, and went way the extra mile to make up for it.
She was loyal to a sister that didn’t deserve it.
She had guts.
She had spunk.
She was hilarious.
She knew how to use her mouth, and almost better, when to stop using it and let Dutch take what he wanted, and in doing it, give her more.
And she cared about the space around her, made it hers, stamped it with her style, and it was interesting.
He turned his attention to her and finally took in what she was wearing.
Another black sweater, this one a crewneck. A tan skirt. Pencil, fitting close to her hips, ass and thighs. Black boots, high heels, not ridiculous drag-queen high, but still hot. She had a little scarf tied around her neck that had a pattern on it that was black and cream with some pink thrown in. Her hair was up in a messy bunch at the back top of her head, with tendrils floating down. And she had studs in her ears that were little clusters of tiny pearls, and other than a watch glinting from under her long sleeve, that was the only jewelry she wore.
Class. Professionalism. Personality.
Jesus.
Thank fuck Jag and Carolyn blew off picking her up from the airport.
She’d pulled on a lightweight feminized peacoat and was grabbing her beat-up, cognac-colored leather backpack.
“Ready,” she said.
He jerked up his chin and looked down at the cat. “We’re outta here. Catch you later.”
He got a buzzing “mwrr” before he put the cat down.
“Be good, Murtagh,” Georgiana ordered.
Sharing the affront he took at this, Murtagh turned his back on her and jumped on the couch, not bothering to reply.
Outside the apartment, after she made sure the self-closing door latched, Dutch took her hand and held it all the way down the hall, while tagging the button to the elevator, waiting for the elevator, and then in the elevator.
It wasn’t until then that Georgie spoke.
“You’re a hand-holder.”
He looked down at her, starting to let go, asking, “You’re not?”
She held tight to his hand before she lost it. “I wasn’t. Until now.”
He smiled at her.
She smiled back.
They held hands the rest of the way to his truck.
“What’s for lunch?” she asked when he’d pulled out of his parking space.
“Las Delicious.”
“Excellent,” she muttered.
And she had good taste in food.
“So, I’ve been thinking about Carolyn,” he began.
“Ugh,” she grunted.
“Baby,” he murmured.
“It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it too. It’s time. High time.”
“In the past, before this, have you talked to her about it?” he asked.
“When we met, you said something about how Carolyn had spoken about me, so you knew about me, and my guess from how you said that, what she told you about me wasn’t stellar. What do you think?”
“So you’re a pain in her ass because you ride her ass.”
“Dutch, she…God.”
She was struggling, she didn’t hide it, but instead of pushing it, he gave her time.
It was the right call, because she didn’t take much of it before she said, her voice pained, “Essentially, she’s whoring herself for material items and dope.”
Essentially, she was correct.
Dutch kept his mouth shut.
“Mother thinks it’s a phase.”
Dutch said nothing.
“Mother is wrong.”
Dutch had a question about that. “You call your mom ‘Mother?’”
“My mom is a ‘mother.’ Dad’s a dad. Mom’s worked hard at being Mother.”
“You said your dad wasn’t around—”
“He wasn’t. They split. He traveled for work so there were reasons he was absent in the beginning. He also found another woman, married her, they had a kid. Through all of this, Mom put a lot of effort into making his life hell. So he made the decision that life was too short to deal with her, and he put great effort into omitting her from it. The side effect of this was, to do that, he had to omit us. Carolyn and me.”
“The fuck?”
And back was the growl.
“There’s that cute again,” she whispered.
“There is no excuse to pick yourself over your kids. Christ, your daughters.”
“A son would be different?” she asked curiously.
“Okay, get this, it’s important. I don’t have any kids. I still know I’m gonna be protective as fuck if I get girls. Not that I won’t love and protect a boy. But it’s gonna be stratospheric with a girl. So my advice, file that away, and if you got a problem with it, get over it.”
“So…crazy…cute.” Again with the whisper.
“Georgie,” he warned.
“Dutch,” she replied, sounding amused.
“Haven’t met the man and already not a big fan of your dad.”
“He paid support. He sent us money, a good deal of it, on birthdays, Christmas, even Easter and Valentine’s Day, and sometimes we’d get a card with cash in it just because.”