Page 35 of Too Hot to Sleep
"Yes, Mom, I know."
"Did you get my letter?"
"Yes, thank you for lighting a candle for me."
"A mother's job."
She frowned. Weren't those Ken's words?
"I saw on the news that Birmingham is under a dangerous heat wave, and I wanted to see if you were okay."
"It's hot, and my air conditioner isn't working, but I'm surviving."
"Good. Do you and Bob have big plans for the weekend?"
"It'sRob,Mom, and as a matter of fact, we're going to a wedding."
She clucked. "Are you getting serious about this young man?"
Georgia reached for a cord to fidget with, then remembered the phone was cordless. "I... don't know. He's... nice." And safe. She frowned. Where had that thought come from?
"Nice? He has his own business and a home—you'd better snap him up."
Her mother saw the world in such simple terms. "But I'm not sure I'm in love with Rob."
"Love?" Her mother made a tsk-tsking sound—she had an entire repertoire of chiding noises. "You're not getting any younger, Georgia."
"Mom, I'm only thirty."
"By the time I was your age, I'd been married for thirteen years."
Georgia bit her tongue to keep from uttering something regrettable—her mother couldn't help that she'd fallen for a smooth-talking philanderer. "Mom, I still have lots of time to settle dow—"
"Oh, there's Fannie, I have to go, dear. Tell Bob I said hello."
She sighed. "Okay, I'll tell him."
"Toodleoo."
"Toodleoo." She disconnected the call, shaking her head. No doubt her poor mother had endured a rocky marriage, although she'd never discussed it with the girls. It was obvious that she was living vicariously through her daughters, mainly Fannie, but Georgia knew she truly wanted them both to be happy.
But she sorely missed her father.
Georgia gave the thermostat a swat as she walked toward the shower, peeling off her clothes. Her earlier thought sprang to mind. Rob wassafe?Safe wasn't a characteristic, safe was a, a, a... place.
Had she been so affected by her father's indiscretions that she'd projected love on to a man who was as opposite from George Adams as was earthly possible?
She stepped under the cool spray and tilted her head back until her hair was saturated and heavy. She sighed as the day's stress began to wash away.
And conversely, had she shunned the interest of the man who reminded her very much of her irresistible father? Ken Medlock's dancing brown eyes mocked her, challenged her.
You did a bad, bad thing, Georgia. You know you want me. I can take you places you've only dreamed of going. Unsafe places.
"I went there with Rob," she murmured.
But you were thinking of me. I was in your mind before you even met me.
She slid the loofah glove over her hand, reveling in the nubby texture and the bulk, the glove resembling a man's hand... a lover's hand... Ken's hand. She resisted the pull of him, his smile, his big body, seemingly built to plague her. Georgia ignored the alarms going off in her head. Perhaps a little fantasy would help get him out of her system. He owed her that much...
