Page 37 of Own the Eights
He eyed the books. “Interesting combo. I can appreciate the similarities inJane EyreandPride and Prejudice, but how doesHarry Potterfit in?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I had a weird childhood. Jane fromJane Eyre, Lizzy fromPride and Prejudice,and Hermione fromHarry Potterbecame my girl squad.”
“Girl squad?” he repeated with a chuckle.
“You can laugh all you like, Mr. Marks Perfect Ten Mindset. But these books got me through some tough times.”
“Comics did that for me when I was a kid,” he said softly, then glanced at her and found her watching him closely.
Did he just share that comics were his escape as a kid? Dammit! He looked back at the shelf, then tapped a framed picture of a man standing next to a little girl, holding what looked like a credit card. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, that’s my dad and me the day I got my very own library card. My dad was a mechanic, and he really loved books. He was kind of a Renaissance man, a Jack of all trades.”
“And your mom?”
Georgie looked away. “She splits her time between Denver and her homes in Aspen and St. Croix.”
He took a step back and whistled. “I would not have pegged you as someone who came from money.”
“I didn’t. My parents divorced when I was young, and my mom married into it,” she answered, her gaze trained on the photograph.
“But still, if your mom is wealthy now—”
“That has nothing to do with me, nor do I want a penny of her money. I live my own life, and I make my own rules, Jordan,” she answered, heat flashing in her blue-green eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s fine,” she answered with that same smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Come into the kitchen. The least I can do is feed you after you had your friends fix my car.”
What the hell was he doing? Twenty-four hours ago, Georgie Jensen didn’t even exist to him. He’d been living in the twilight zone from the moment she’d barreled into his life, yelling for him to catch her dog.
“Can you chop a cucumber?” she asked, holding out the vegetable.
“Yes, of course, I can. If you read the Marks Perfect Ten blog, you’d learn that cucumbers contain silica, which is essential for maintaining healthy connective tissue,” he said, choosing a knife from a block on the counter and joining her at the cutting board.
“If you read the Own the Eights blog, you’d know that what we’re eating tonight is a cucumber, tomato, and basil salad, which contains vitamin C,” she threw back as she chopped a tomato.
“I already knew that,” he mumbled.
“Just dice the cucumber, emperor.”
He sliced the vegetable. “You should really have a protein to go with this.”
“I do,” she answered and gestured with her chin toward two salmon fillets in a glass dish.
Shit. This was a pretty decent meal.
“The fish is from last night. I like to make extra to eat as leftovers the next day.”
Double shit. He suggested doing that, too.
Georgie took his perfectly diced cucumber and added it to the basil and tomatoes with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper. She pulled two plates from the cabinet, then proceeded to make him a plate.
“Is this okay?” she asked, handing him a fork and napkin.
It was more than okay. He mostly ate alone. Breakfast at home. A protein shake in his office at the gym and dinner either in front of the computer or proofing an article for a blog post.
“Yeah, it’s great. Thanks,” he said, taking the plate.
