Page 90 of Where the Blacktop Ends

I kiss her again, harder this time, then swat her on the ass, spinning her around and guiding her back toward the bed before tucking her in. If I don’t stop now, I’ll take her again. And I will later. Over and over, even when we’re back in New York later tonight. Because I meant what I said—I’m not letting her go and hearing that she likes how I look here, well that gives me a little hope that she might like living here too. I’ll keep her close, show her what life could be like here...

And hope like hell that love is enough to make her stay.

Chapter 34 – Georgia

It’s been almost two weeks since our trip to North Carolina to visit Troy’s hometown, and things have mostly returned to normal.

Our routine with Liam has resumed. Troy commutes into the city for work most days, while Liam, our new bodyguard, and I explore the Hamptons.

I’ve noticed that Troy makes a point to come home early most evenings—even if he misses dinner—just to kiss Liam goodnight and make love to me before I fall asleep wrapped in his arms.

With the colder weather and the arrival of November, the tourist season is long over. But as the pressure of the upcoming election looms, I’ve started noticing more tabloid articles focusing on Troy and his personal life. They speculate about his family in North Carolina, about Liam and Max—and, worst of all, about who he’s dating.

I’ve tried to ignore them like Troy does, but I can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits every time I see multiple outlets suggestinghe’s still involved with Minnie. The constant questions about Liam’s paternity don’t help, despite my best efforts to protect him from the public eye.

Even though we haven’t discussed anything official, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m still Troy’s dirty little secret—despite knowing, deep down, that he isn’t seeing any of the other women mentioned in those articles. There wouldn’t be time when he rushes home to see me every night.

“Hi, Georgia! You look beautiful today,” Eleanor greets me as she steps into the kitchen of the beach house.

It’s Friday afternoon, which means she’s here to pick up Liam a few hours early—at Troy’s request. He’s taking me to a new seafood restaurant that just opened in the Hamptons for a date.

Ourfirstofficial one.

Well, that’s what I’m calling it in my head, anyway. That’s how I described it to James earlier on the phone. Troy only called it “dinner,” but I can’t help the flutter of excitement that stirs in my stomach at the thought of us finally being out together. Not as a nanny and her boss. But as something… more.

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Thank you!” I chirp back, spinning in my fitted black dress with long sleeves that flare at the wrists, giving me a sultry, fall-inspired look. I’ve blown my hair into soft, voluminous waves and painted my lips with a deep maroon lipstick from my favorite little beauty store back in Texas. Total witchy vibes.

“I hope you two have fun tonight. Troy deserves a break from the constant scrutiny he’s been under lately,” Eleanor winks as she turns to leave, carting Liam out to her car.

The rest of the afternoon is spent finishing my outfit with knee-high black boots and my sexiest black lace lingerie, hoping tosurprise him later when he inevitably rips it off me. He rarely gets a glimpse of what I’m wearing underneath, too eager to have me naked but tonight feels different.Special.

With fifteen minutes to spare, I move to tidying up the house—cleaning up toys, tossing a load of Liam’s clothes into the washer, and vacuuming his bedroom—when finally, I hear heavy footsteps entering through the front door.

I step out, ready to greet Troy with my most seductive look, but the voice that reaches me is definitely not his.

“Dad?”

Dad?

Oh my god. It’s Max.

I freeze. Because what else can I do when I’m about to meet my boss-slash-sort-of-boyfriend’s twenty-two-year-old son for the first time?

It’s way too late to hide since he’s already at the top of the stairs now, his eyes widening as soon as they land on me. I suddenly feel very self-conscious in my too-sexy, too-short dress, witchy boots, and sultry lipstick.

“Holy shit. If I’d known Liam’s new nanny was this hot, I’d have come back sooner,” Max says teasingly, a smirk pulling at his lips.

I burst into laughter and move toward him with my arms outstretched. “And you must be Max. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Max looks so much like Troy, it’s uncanny. Twenty years younger, a little shorter, and not quite as built—but still, a near replica. His jawline is softer, his face untouched by the years and stress that have carved Troy into the man I adore. But his eyes? A lighter shade of hazel. And his smile—that’sjust like his dad’s.

Seeing him in person for the first time feels like looking at a grown-up version of Liam. Three generations of the Marshall men—it’s a beautiful thing to witness.

When Max steps forward and wraps me in a hug, I don’t miss the way he holds on a little longer. A little tighter than he probably should.

“Yep, I’m Max. I guess Dad told you all about the son who left him with a grandson to raise,” he says with a grin.

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