Page 50 of You Wish
He caught up to the pack in no time, passing three cars in a single move. But the only car he cared about passing was the race leader, whose chocolate-brown hair was screaming out the back of her helmet like she was doing a hundred miles per hour instead of thirty.
There was another track a few miles away, but those carts were serious, reaching a top speed of over eighty miles per hour. Not that he thought Georgia couldn’t stand up to the pressure—she absolutely could. Not a lot intimidated her—except being vulnerable.
You earned that kind of trust before and, like a dumbass, lost it. But if you play your cards right you can get to that place again.
Jake raced toward her, coming up on her tail so fast he was certain he’d pass her. Only, Georgia took the inside curve like a pro, cutting him off with a move so shameless it made him laugh. She got bolder with every lap.
Jake was within passing distance, so close he could smell the faintest whiff of her vanilla-scented shampoo mixed among the gasoline-and-cotton-candy air. And for the first time in years, Jake realized the thrill of the race had nothing to do with the checkered flag.
All that restless energy coiling in his chest was pretty damn close to what he’d felt with Georgia all those year ago.
He didn’t want to go as far as to say he was in love with her. But the probability that he could be was reaching dangerous levels.
What had she been thinking?
Agreeing to walk through the Christmas tree maze had been a stupid move of epic proportions.
Epic.
The safety of the crowd vanished the moment they stepped into the man-made forest, leaving them completely alone. Which went against her new rule:
Never be alone with Jake.
Because when she was, she made bad decisions. She’d taken being hishandlertoo far.
Yet there she was, ticking off another decision placing her closer to the Naughty List.
Pine needles and bittersweet memories hung heavy in the Christmas air. The maze was a majestic green box, wrapped up like a present with twinkle lights and chilled December air.
Georgia kept one mittened hand tucked around her hot chai and the other buried deep in her coat pocket, mostly to keep from reaching for Jake. The man walked like he owned the path, his long strides confident even while weaving between eight-foot evergreens.
Georgia sipped her hot chai, the steam turning into frost the moment it made contact with the late afternoon air.
“This,” she said breaking the silence, “is exactly how every holiday should smell. Sugar, cinnamon, and the subtle hum of potentially rebellious Christmas lights.”
Jake chuckled. “The cinnamon is winning me over. But questionable wiring? Deal-breaker.” His grin came with that same easy warmth that could melt through ice.
“What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” Georgia asked.
“Why?”
“I could ask you your favorite color or number or childhood pet?”
“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All. Go.”
He cracked his neck from side to side. “Not orange, but tangerine. Eight because it looks like the infinity sign. And Miss Peepers, a Himalayan whose namesake comes from her enormous blue eyes.”
Something flickered in her chest like a fragile flame, which sparked when Jake helped that single mom, began to grow. “You remember all of that?”
“I remember all of you,” he said quietly. “But I want to get to know all of the new you.”
Geogia stopped to think about what that would entail—for her mind and her heart. Right then, standing alone in the tight aisles of Christmas wonder, swapping stories sounded more intimate than sex.
“Getting to know each other only works if we’re both brave enough to let our guards and past pain go,” Jake said.
“What if I don’t want to let go of the pain?”
“It’s the only way to move forward. Wherever that leads.”
