Page 63 of Too Hot to Sleep
She clasped a hand to her forehead, stunned at her mother's revelation. "All these years, I thought that he was hurting you."
"Quite the opposite, dear. Your father and I loved each other deeply. He always felt so guilty about his affairs that he brought me gifts. I never doubted his commitment to our family."
In thirty seconds, her entire outlook on sex and relationships had been turned on end. "I don't know what to say."
"Then tell me about this Ken Medlock, dear."
Georgia's mind raced with images of Ken, so many of them jammed into only a few days, and all of them... profound.
"Georgia, what does the man do?"
She pressed the picture of Ken to her heart and closed her eyes. "He makes me happy, Mom. Can I call you back?"
"Of course, dear."
She hung up and brought her fist to her mouth. Her father had indulged in extra-marital affairs because her mother disliked sex. Not because one woman wasn't enough for him. Not because he enjoyed seeing how much he could get away with. Not because he didn't love his family. Georgia had sorely misjudged her father. She sent up a prayer of apology and a smile to the man she'd always adored, but whose situation she had never fully appreciated.
A warm, fuzzy feeling flooded over her, along with a revelation: Perhaps her father had orchestrated the chance meeting with Ken. The sequence of events seemed almost toofantastic for mere mortal coincidence. She smiled. He was still looking out for her. Fannie had Mother, and she had Dad.
So she hadn't inherited dark, lusty, philandering tendencies. Her sex drive had been kicked into overdrive by a man whom she'd been destined to meet. A man who stirred her soul before she even knew him.
A man to whom she was drawn both physically and metaphysically.
Georgia counted to ten to calm her pounding heart. She'd fallen for Ken. It was impossible, but true. They'd connected so quickly and so intensely that she'd been frightened. Since it seemed too good to be true, she'd been poised for the other shoe to drop. And it had, when she'd found out it was him she'd been talking to on the phone, him she'd been sharing her thoughts and fantasies with. But on some subconscious level, hadn't she wished it were Ken all along?
She was being handed a gift on one of those big table platters she coveted. She would not turn from love and run.
She looked at the phone and laughed aloud when she realized his number was still programmed in. She pushed the button, then his phone rang once, twice as her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Was he home? It was awfully late. Was he asleep? Would he be glad to hear from her?
"Hello," he said, and his voice filled her chest with warmth.
"Ken, it's Georgia."
"Hi," he said, sounding glad, but tentative. "It's great to hear your voice. I didn't think—"
"I love you, too."
Strangling sounds came across the line.
"Are you choking?" she asked. "Because I know the Heimlich maneuver."
He laughed. "So you say."
"I was wondering if you know where I live."
"Yes, ma'am, I do."
She smiled wryly. Of course he did. "Well, in that case, I was wondering if you'd like to come over."
She heard a loud popping noise, as if the phone had been dropped. "Ken?"
From the rhythmic knocking sound, she realized the handset was dangling and swinging back and forth against something. She laughed into the phone as she heard his door slam.
Georgia hugged herself, hoping that Ken had the cruiser and would turn on the blue lights. She hated to wait.
* * *
"THE NEXTtime we get married," Ken whispered against the back of her neck, "Pick a wedding gown that has fewer buttons."
