Page 11 of Own the Eights Gets Married
Georgie looked from Mr. Tuesday to Becca. “Do you mind taking him home? I’m not exactly sure what’s happening at the…”
“Why, we’re all headed to the Denver Palace Hotel! The perfect place for the prince and princess of CityBeat!” Hector supplied.
Jordan looked between the blog site founders. “You guys can’t be serious with this whole prince and princess thing?”
“That’s what the Belgian Waffle Princess dubbed you guys, and it seems to be trending online along with Emperor of Asshattery,” Barry said, tilting his phone for them to see the post.
“You know what that means,” Hector said, rubbing his hands together.
Jordan shared a look with Georgie, who shook her head.
“No, we have no idea what it means,” he answered.
“Tiaras!” Hector breathed with a wild glint in his eyes. “We need to start investigating tiaras, pronto, Bobby.”
Georgie stiffened. “I think I’d like to skip the car ride over.”
“Whatever for?” Bobby asked, concern etched on his face.
“The Palace Hotel isn’t far from here, and I could use a meandering walk,” she answered, and Jordan’s heart jumped into his throat.
Georgiana Jensen’s meandering walks meant she had something weighing on her mind, most likely due to the over-sized engagement ring sparkling on her go-fuck-yourself finger. But, truth be told, he could use a break from tissues, TV, and tiaras, too.
Georgie passed Mr. Tuesday over to Becca, and the women began to talk dog logistics as he gestured for Bobby, Hector, and Barry to join him down the hall.
He schooled his features into his do-not-mess-with-me CrossFit angry-god expression. A little something he kept in his back pocket from his Marks Perfect Ten Mindset days.
He narrowed his gaze. “Georgie and I will meet you at the hotel, but you guys have to take it down a notch.”
“Jordan,” Bobby said with a placating expression. “You know my husband, Hector—make a big deal out of everything—Garcia. He could turn a trip to the podiatrist into a major event.”
“Well, why wouldn’t you? I have those gorgeous eco-friendly sandals I wear anytime my little piggies need attending to,” Hector replied, then watched him closely. “You’re not afraid of piglets, are you, Jordan?”
Jordan scrubbed his hands down his face, suddenly feeling insanely exhausted. “No, it was just baby goats, and I’m totally over that,” he answered, not entirely telling the truth.
But close enough.
“Such a powerful moment for CityBeat,” Barry chimed, pressing his hand to his heart.
Georgie came to his side. “Are you ready?”
He took her hand. “We’ll meet you there,” he said to the men as he led Georgie out of the building.
She exhaled an audible breath and leaned into him as they strolled down the sidewalk. It was the perfect early fall day in Denver. The trees were beginning to pop with splashes of gold and red, and all he wanted to do was take his fiancée over to a bench and sit.
No words.
No Belgian Waffle Princesses orWake-Up Denverplugs.
Just the two of them with his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“Are you contemplating our escape, too?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
He chuckled. “Not so much as an escape but a moment alone with you without some idiot trying to work-in the words, Wake-Up Denver.”
She held out her hand with the sparkling diamond. “You mean a moment alone with your fiancée?”
He liked the sound of that.
