Wild Horses (4 page)
Authors: Denise L. Wyant
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“Sleepover with his grandfather. He was very excited. My dad will have him spoiled in no time.” Jonathan walked around the counter and grabbed her hand, directing her toward the dining room table. “Aiden wanted to make sure you got this.” He picked up a crayon drawing off the table and handed it to Georgia.
She smiled, although her insides were a jumbled mess. She was stuck on ‘sleepover.’
Could he be implying I should stay? Do I even want to spend the night?
Georgia finally managed, “That’s so sweet. He did a great job.” Aiden drew what Georgia guessed was a steaming pan of lasagna with stick figures representing her and Jonathan. She traced the smile on her figure’s face. Never before had a child made something so special for her.
“Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll get a plate ready for you?” Jonathan pulled out her chair and waited until she was comfortable before heading back to the kitchen.
Georgia’s mind drifted as she watched Jonathan walk away. For some reason — the drawing, maybe — the prospect of spending the night wasn’t so frightening. In fact, a comfortable warmth coursed through her body, sparks firing low in her belly. For the first time in a long time, her heart was filled with something other than dark spots and gaping holes. Desire and Jonathan twined together to sew those holes back together. Never had she felt so cared for or so special. Jonathan gave her the reason to do more than just go through the motion; he brought life and love and the prospect of family to her lonely life.
“Hey, everything okay?” Jonathan set a plate, overflowing with lasagna and salad, in front of her. He knelt by her chair and took her hand in his.
She blinked away her unfocused gaze and gave his hand a squeeze. “Everything’s fine.” More confidently and with a playful glint in her eye, she continued, “In fact, things are perfect.” For the first time in her life, she knew what she wanted. And what she wanted was right in front of her: Jonathan.
“If you say so.” Standing, he brushed a kiss across her lips before turning to head toward the kitchen.
She interrupted, “Jonathan, do you think the food can wait?”
Jonathan glanced toward her plate. “Aren’t you hungry?” His brows furrowed with uncertainty.
She rose from her chair and stalked toward him, forcing him to back up until his hips hit the counter. Georgia slid her hands around his waist and gripped his sweater. Stepping between his legs, she met his eyes while her teeth nibbled on her lower lip. “I thought I might like to have dessert first — if you’re up for it, of course.”
Georgia watched as Jonathan’s eyes darkened with desire.
Good, the man’s a quick learner.
His teeth gently bit her ear before his lips skated down her neck, nipping and sampling. He breathed against her skin. “Dinner can definitely wait. To the bedroom.” In one graceful move, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
****
Georgia tip-toed barefoot down the stairs, clad in one of Jonathan’s T-shirts. The strong aroma of coffee greeted her as she made her way through the great room to the kitchen. She paused, watching Jonathan juggle various cooking utensils. On the counter, she noticed a tray complete with a red rosebud and a glass of orange juice.
As Jonathan turned with a loaded plate in his hand, his shoulders sagged slightly when he noticed Georgia. “You’re supposed to be in bed. I was going to surprise you with breakfast.”
She walked over and placed a kiss on his bare chest. “Sorry to ruin the surprise, but I missed you.” Georgia teased her fingers over his nipple before skating her hand toward the waistband of his pajama pants.
“You look great both in and out of clothes. I hope to see you in my shirts more often.” His voice was husky as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Is that an invitation for another sleepover?” she teased.
“Absolutely. And of course, breakfast is included.”
“Breakfast . . . well, you’ve got yourself a deal.” She chuckled before grabbing his pants and tugging him toward the stairs. “Bring that plate. We’re going to need the energy for what I have in mind.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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