Page 198 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“Have fun, love birds!” June teased, abandoning me the second George was within the general vicinity. “See you at the rehearsal tomorrow?”

“Of course.” I agreed. She gave me a dual pair of finger guns before wandering off and leaving me alone with George.

He looked like an angel, sun behind him, sweat glistening at his temples.

“You…” I didn’t know what to say.

Without the chatter of the crowd it was eerily quiet. Just the steady lap of the water meeting the shore, over and over.

“Here.” George shoved the watch toward me.

It wasn’t rusty.

But it was certainly wet.

I grabbed it, my throat tight when my fingers met the chilly metal. I didn’t know what to say. That early overwhelm flooding through me again as I clutched the watch close to my chest, eyes pinched shut.

“Thank you.” My voice was barely a croak.

“You’re welcome.” George didn’t ask for anything else. He struggled into the lounger at my side with a tired sigh, head dropping back against the seat.

“I’m—”

“If you say you’re sorry I am going to strangle you.”

I laughed. How could I not?

He’d made that threat so many times by this point, I didn’t believe him anymore.

“I was going to tell you that you look cute.” I totallyhadbeen about to apologize, but he didn’t need to know that.

The look George gave me could’ve leveled a mountain. “I lookridiculous.”

“Ridiculouslyhot. Where’d you get your sexy lil outfit?” I inquired, genuinely curious.

“Apparently the boathouse is useful for more than just…” George’s cheeks flushed, and I grinned. “Suffice to say—” he added quickly. “There happened to be a bunch of these detestable ensembles in a closet at the back.”

“Handy.”

“Very.” George didn’t speak, though the atmosphere remained friendly. “Roderick told me about it—and then helped me find the one closest to my size. He was…very…”

“Roderick-y.”

“Right.”

“Thank you, again.” My thumb skimmed over the face of the watch, the slick surface drying by the second. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you did this.”

“It was nothing.”

“Itwasn’tnothing,” I argued.

“Fine then. Itwasn’tnothing. But your thank yous are still unnecessary.”

I could tell that George had had enough praise for now—and I restrained myself, even though I wanted to kiss the hell out of him in his sexy-silly outfit and declare my undying fealty.

Instead of saying anything else that George would deem “unnecessary”, I reached out, fingers tangling with his gloved hand and squeezing tight. He made a pleased sound, but otherwise didn’t respond. When he squeezed back, the remaining tension in my body eased.

I loved him even more fiercely then.

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