Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2) (13 page)

BOOK: Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2)
12.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I moaned and arched into him just before my phone rang out.

“Shit, I bet that’s Drew.” I pulled away from his lips.

“Let it go.” He tried to reattach his lips to mine.

“She’ll keep calling. There’s no escaping her.” I lifted off his lap.

A tortured groan escaped his throat. He flung his head back on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut. He looked utterly adorable.

“Save it for later because I want these—” I traced my thumb along the outline of his lips. “—all over my body tonight.”

“Christ.” Another groan as he scrubbed his hands over his face and into his too long hair. “You love to torture me.”

“It isn’t hard to do.” I winked at him as I walked to grab my phone.

“Vixen,” Tristan growled before not so obliviously readjusting the tent in his jeans.

She was a fucking vixen and she knew it. She loved torturing me, and I loved it. The only thing I loved more than her torturing me about being inside her was actually being inside her.

I was a masochist, without a doubt. At least when it came to Georgia.

I heaved a sigh and stood to try and walk off the excess energy. Charlie jumped up and gave his tail a wag.

“Outside, boy?” I gave him a scratch before opening the French doors to let him out. He ambled down the steps and turned the corner of the house. I walked back to the TV and turned it off, meaning to step outside to keep an eye on Charlie, until I heard Georgia’s voice.

She sounded sad and forlorn and I instantly knew why.

She was talking to Drew about the letter. Telling her what it meant. Her fears about reliving the past and that night when two strangers had broken into her house and robbed and murdered her parents, all while a twelve-year-old Georgia hid under her bed.
 

I clenched my jaw when I heard Kyle’s name. Why the fuck had Kyle been brought up?

Dammit, I loved living on the beach just as much as the next guy, but the constant roar of the waves made eavesdropping pretty fucking difficult. I found myself taking a step down the hallway with the intention of hearing better before I caught myself.

I couldn’t listen to this. This was a private conversation, and it hurt like hell that she was opening up to Drew and not to me, but I understood it. She’d hunkered off to our bedroom for a reason; she’d wanted privacy.

I ran a hand through my hair and gave a rough yank before turning around and heading out the door to keep an eye on Charlie.

I ran my hands along the wood grain of the deck railing and let my thoughts run wild. I didn’t know if Georgia would go back and make an appearance for the hearing, but if she did, she would be back in DC, and back with Kyle; the one person she’d always relied on to get her through this shit when it came up.

It’d been sixteen years, would she still fall into old habits? I had no doubt that Kyle would try and convince her to stay with him and use every manipulative tool at his disposal. While I certainly wanted to fight for her—she was worth it to me, she was worth everything—it was against my grain to fight for someone. If she didn’t want to be with me, I wasn’t going to lower myself so far as to beg her to stay. If Georgia was going to fall back into her old life, then so be it.

That thought terrified me more than anything else, but I knew it would be hard for her to stay. Every fucking day, I saw it on her face. The battle she waged between her old life and our new one. I held my breath every time her phone rang. Gritted my teeth when I saw Kyle’s name flash across the screen. Deep fucking down in my pain-ravaged heart, I was afraid this time would be the time he finally convinced her to go back, because deep fucking down I didn’t have faith she would stay.

I didn’t have faith she would break the mold for me, and I knew I wasn’t fucking worth it—knew my past was colored with poor decisions. That was a real kick to the gut; I didn't deserve her. I’d done so much I now regretted, I couldn’t be surprised when she finally came to her senses and walked away.

I ran another angry hand through my hair and called for Charlie. I needed a beer and to plop myself in front of some mindless TV show to get this endless cycle of negative thinking off my mind. Or maybe do some work. Gavin and I had a big account that needed some attention. The CEO was a bastard who wanted his hand held through the entire process.

Charlie trotted up the stairs and we headed back into the kitchen. I tossed him a treat and then padded down to the spare room I used as an office. I closed the door behind me and settled into my desk chair for a long night of throwing myself into the comfortable mundane-ness of codes and numbers.

“Hey, love.” I heard Silas’s voice loud and clear over the phone.

“Wrong person.” Tristan grinned. “But it’s great to hear your voice too.” A sexy smile tipped his mouth. I wanted him to hang up on my best friend immediately so I could attack those lips. It had been a few days and I still hadn’t spoken to Tristan much about the letter but my mind had been consumed by it. The nightmares had returned; the previous two nights I'd woken up in a cold sweat, memories of that night playing on repeat in my mind. It was the first time I'd had a nightmare since coming back to the beach and now here I was, thrown back into the darkness.
 

I tried to keep my mind off the parole hearing during the day by marketing the rental. I’d posted it on some websites and had a local realtor who specialized in summer rentals walk through. I had inheritance and life insurance money in the bank account, but I'd been taking so much from it over the last year that I needed to start renting this house and get some funds going back in.

“Here she is.” Tristan handed the phone to me. I placed a peck on his cheek and then put the phone to my ear.

“How’s it going, baby girl?” I heard the grin in Silas’s voice from across the phone line. I pictured his brown eyes dancing, his blond hair styled just perfectly. My mood instantly lifted.

“It’s okay.”

“That doesn’t sound like okay.”

I sighed and picked at the frayed edges of a hole in my jeans.

“Spill, love.” Silas hit me with the sternest voice he could muster. It worked like a charm.

“I got a letter.” I turned to frown at Tristan. I really didn’t want to get into this at all. He rubbed my leg. I’d only just gotten it a few days ago, spilled my guts to Drew last night, still hadn’t spoken much to Tristan about it, and yet here I was. I heaved a sigh and lifted off the couch, headed for the kitchen and a bottle of wine.

Tristan followed me in and took the bottle from my hands, mouthing that he’d take care of it. I smiled at him thankfully before I started in on the letter I’d received and how I was feeling. Tristan tried not to hover, although he rubbed my neck every now and again when I was especially tense. That was until the wine seeped through my veins and had tingles lighting up my body.

I relaxed as I finished my story, telling him I needed to go back to DC for the hearing in May, a few months from now. My best friend listened patiently, murmuring and offering comfort when necessary.

“I wish you were here,” I finished dejectedly.

“Me too, love,” Silas answered.

“So enough of this sad stuff. Can we talk about you? How’s Justin?” I took a long draw of my wine.

“Well, we’re moving down there.”

“What?” I squeaked.

“I’m letting the lease go on my place. Moving in with Justin in the spring.”

‘Oh God, Silas! I’m so excited.”

“We can’t be apart, love. Not good for either one of us.” Silas laughed.

“Definitely not. So I guess that means you two are doing well?”

There was a long pause.

Too long.

“Silas?”

“I have something else to tell you.”

“Okay . . .”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Okay . . .”

“You may want to kick my ass.”

I groaned. “Silas, please just tell me.”

“Justin and I sort of . . . eloped.”

My heartbeat thudded in my ears. I shook my head in confusion, my wine glass suspended halfway to my lips. I couldn’t have heard that right. Silas—my commitment-phobic best friend—married? To someone he’d been dating for just a few months?

“Say something, love.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Georgia. When we were in Mexico for spring break, it just happened. We were having such a great time; it was perfect. The sun was out, the water was warm, the bed was big. He just asked me and I said yes. We did it an hour later on the beach. I don’t think he was expecting to do it. It just happened, Georgia, and I knew you would be pissed that I did it without you, but it felt so right,” he finally finished.

“I . . . I don’t even know what to say.” I was still in shock. My brain wasn’t computing what he was telling me.

“Congratulations, maybe?” Silas asked.

“God, I’m sorry. Congratulations. Of course, congratulations. I’m thrilled for you. I’m sad I wasn’t there, but I’m thrilled. Just shocked.”

“I know. This doesn’t seem like me, but Justin, he’s—”

“He’s perfect,” I finished, a grin pulling at my cheeks. “God, Silas. You’re married.” Tears sprang to my eyes when I thought of my best friend finding someone he loved so completely that he promised to spend his life with him.

“I know.” I could hear him tearing up on the other end. “You’re making me cry, Georgia.”

“I’m crying too.” Emotion shook my body as tears streamed down my face. I wiped them with the back of one hand.

Tristan came up and wrapped both his arms around my body from behind. “Congrats, Silas,” he muttered into the phone before tucking his face into my neck and kissing at the overheated flesh.

“Tell your hunk of a boyfriend thanks,” Silas said.

“Hey, you’re a taken man now.” I laughed.

“Just ’cause I’m off the market doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

“Heard that.” Tristan pulled his sensual lips from my neck and sang into the phone before attacking my lobe with his teeth.

“God, wait, you let me ramble on and on about my bullshit and here you’d gotten married, Silas?” I felt so selfish.

“You needed to get it out. I understand.”

“It’s not anywhere near as important as your news. You should have stopped me.”

Other books

The Lighthouse: A Novel of Terror by Bill Pronzini, Marcia Muller
Indulgence 2: One Glimpse by Lydia Gastrell
Squirrel World by Johanna Hurwitz
Beastly by Matt Khourie
The Anchor by B.N. Toler