Page 39 of Where the Blacktop Ends

This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a damn stalker—or worse, like I’m her father making sure she’s not hooking up with her boyfriend.

I do some quick mental math, reassuring myself that I’m notthatmuch older than her. Fourteen years. Not exactlyscandalous though she’s the same age as my sister. But still, this is a mess. There’s no way anything can—orshould—happen between me and Georgia. She’s Liam’s nanny, my employee, and completely irrelevant to my political career. The last thing I need is a complicated relationship, let alone a girlfriend or wife, especially when I’m about to launch my campaign.

She’s a distraction. Nothing more.

But despite all that, I can’t shake this nagging sense of protectiveness. It’s as though she’s already become part of my family, instantly bucketed into the space I have in my head where my four siblings, Max and Liam belong. Maybe that’s why, when we’d run into each other in the steam room months ago—wrapped in the sauna, our identities shrouded in mystery—I’d let her go without pressing for more. No one knew who I was back then. I’d kept a low profile, avoiding the media and staying behind the scenes with the politicians I advised. But all of that’s about to change.

Where the hell is she?

I head upstairs, checking the conference rooms one by one until I finally reach the Bluefish Room. The exact room where we first figured out who the other was.

I freeze just outside the doorway. I can hear Georgia’s voice, soft and giggly—clearly drunk now. Then James’s voice follows, low and unmistakable.

Every instinct screams at me to burst in and stop whatever’s happening. I know I should turn around and walk away. But that doesn’t stop me from standing there, listening, the rush of blood pounding through my ears.

Chapter 13 – Troy

“My parents are such assholes,”James says on a huff from behind the doorway.

Georgia chuckles good naturedly.“They aren’t so bad. They just want you to be happy and care about your reputation.”

He scoffs. “They care about their reputation. I am, unfortunately, an extension of them in their minds.”

“Maybe they were hoping you’d bring someone you’re serious about because they actually care about your happiness?”

“I am happy. Completely content on my bachelor lifestyle living in New York City. I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy. Plus, you’re one to talk, aren’t your parents eager for you to get married and take over the family ranch?”

Georgia’s silent.

Maybe I read their relationship wrong. Maybe they really are just friends. A flicker of guilt tugs at me for eavesdropping, but I still can’t make myself walk away.

I hear James shifting, the quiet rustle of movement in the dark. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I inch closer, peering throughthe doorway and hoping not to get caught. His shadow barely stands out against the tall glass windows overlooking the party below. He’s crouched now, down near Georgia, who’s sitting on the floor, her back against the same table where we did the interview over a week ago.

“Georgia, look at me,”James says, his voice low but serious now.“I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks. You’ve been the most consistent person in my life, even with us living hundreds of miles apart most of the year. I’m about to turn thirty-one, and in the five years that I’ve known you, I’ve only had one serious girlfriend. My family should realize by now you’ve been the most important woman in my life.”He wraps his arms gently around her neck, pulling her into a hug. I hear a soft sniff, and something tells me she’s crying.

“I think Mr. Marshall hates me,”she mumbles against James’s shoulder. He pulls back slightly, searching her eyes. I can’t see her face, but her words make me feel terrible. Have I really been that much of an asshole to her?

“Trust me, he doesn’t. I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. I think he hates himself for being attracted to you.”

I shift my stance, and my fists clench.Fuck, am I that obvious?

“…but even if he did hate you, fuck him because I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and his grandson. Love you, Georgia.”

In the dim lighting, I can barely make out Georgia’s expression, but it’s clear from her posture—she’s gazing up at him like he’s her entire world and I feel even worse and completely exposed.

“Love you too, James.”

Okay, that’s enough. Time to break this up before anything more happens.

I clear my throat from the doorway, stepping forward just enough to cast a shadow over them.

Georgia jumps to her feet, clearly startled, while James rises slowly, as if he knew I was stand there all along.

“Mr. Marshall,” she gasps, followed by a hiccup. Yep, she’s definitely drunk.

“Troy,” James says evenly, nodding. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“It’s time to go, Georgia,” I say, my tone clipped, not looking at the guy who’s clearly seen straight through my mask.

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