Page 44 of You Wish
Rachel hadn’t just crashed their party. She sucked all the lightheartedness out of the room. Georgia was no longer laughing and flirting, she was head down, nose to the grindstone, doing everything possible to steer clear of him and whatever had just happened between them.
He’d grab a paintbrush and she’d move on to cleaning; he’d pick up a broom and she’d sneak to the other side of the barn. But when she made a bolt for the exit, he followed.
The frostin the late afternoon air slapped Georgia in the face the moment she slipped out of the barn. She wrapped her arms around herself, walking fast down the gravel path, the sound of her boots crunching loud in the silence.
Her cheeks were still burning, not just from Joy’s teasing or Rachel’s smirk, but from the way her mouth had been on Jake’s, well, on Jake only moments before his family barged in.
She’d wanted to do what she did—God, she’d wanted it—but being caught? That was a whole different story.
The barn door creaked behind her.
“Georgia.”
She froze, then kept walking. “You should stay and finish with the painting.”
“I’m more interested to see why you’re avoiding me.” Jake’s boots crunched closer, steady and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. “Why’d you run out?”
“I didn’t run,” she said quickly, picking up her pace.
“Darlin’, you took off like the barn was on fire.”
Heat crept back up her neck. “I just needed some air.”
Jake caught up with her easily, long strides closing the gap. He moved in front of her, walking backward so she had no choice but to face him. His grin was infuriatingly calm, but his eyes were sharp, searching.
“So, let me get this straight. You don’t mind kissing me, but the second we get caught, you can’t even look at me?”
Her stomach flipped. “We did more than kiss.”
“Oh, I remember.”
“And that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
She shook her head, frustration tightening her throat. “Remembering what Rachel said all those years ago. Seeing the same disappointment in her eyes now makes me wonder?—”
“Ignore her.” His voice dropped, softer now. “She likes to give me grief no matter what. None of that matters.”
“It matters to me.”
Jake stopped walking, forcing her to stop too. His hands slid into his back pockets, shoulders loose, but there was nothing casual in the way he was watching her. “Georgia, talk to me. You keep pulling away like you’re afraid of something.”
Her chest tightened. She hated how easily he saw through her. How much she wanted to lean into that steadiness. “You don’t get it. Every time I let myself be vulnerable with you, it feels like the ground’s moving under my feet. And when someone’s watching? It feels like I’m right back where we were a decade ago. Rachel judging me, blaming me.”
Jake’s expression softened. “She can judge all she wants. This is between you and me. Not her.”
She swallowed, trying to look away, but his hand came up, brushing her jaw lightly with his thumb, tilting her chin so her eyes met his. The touch was gentle, grounding, impossible to ignore.
“You don’t scare me, Georgia,” he said quietly. “Not your running, not your walls, not even that temper of yours. You wanna avoid me, fine. But don’t lie to yourself and say you don’t want this.”
Her breath caught, the gravel crunching under her boots as she shifted, suddenly aware of how close they were again. His thumb lingered against her cheek, his eyes steady on hers, daring her to deny it.
She opened her mouth—ready to deflect, to joke, to run again—but nothing came out.
Her phone blew up. Ping after emergency-sounding ping.
She opened her phone and saw a dozen text messages. From her boss, from Whitmore, from the guy in marketing. All asking what the hell had happened. Then a picture came in from Liz, and Georgia was truly speechless.
