Page 16 of Faith Notes
Georgia has been inside all day, sitting on the couch and working. I’ve noticed that she gets tired easily, so I’m glad she’s getting her rest where she can.
“I don’t think I will.” She snickers.
The patio door is open so I can hear her, but I step inside, finished with my task anyway.
She’s sitting on the couch where I left her earlier, hair hanging down her shoulders. When she hears me walking up behind her, she turns her head to look at me, and there’s a smile on her face that stops my heart inside my chest. She might not be able to see it, but she is glowing.
“Delete it, or you won’t get your surprise that I’ve been working on all day,” I say, bending over the back of the couch and kissing along her neck. Her skin pebbles beneath my lips, and a shiver runs across her spine. I smile against her shoulder, loving knowing how much I affect her.
“You don’t play fair.” Her voice comes out as a breathy whisper as she tilts her head, allowing me better access to her neck to kiss her.
“All’s fair in love and war, Peach, and that picture is war.”
She snorts. “What was even happening in that picture?”
“Strategy, Peach. We were talking strategy.”
She snorts again, pulling away from me and turning on the couch so she is sitting backward on her knees, facing me.
“What kind of strategy?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I pull her into my chest, holding her close as I lift her up and over the back of the couch, and when she is standing in front of me, wrapped in my arms, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you. And you’re too pretty to take out.”
Her hand comes up off my neck, slapping me on the back of the head.
“Hey,” I cry. “What was that for?”
Looking up at me, she smiles. It’s bright and beautiful, making her eyes sparkle, and my chest feels like it could burst with the amount of love I have for this woman.
“For trying to blackmail me. The picture stays—and I get whatever surprise you’ve been working on all day in the backyard.”
I bite down, flexing the muscle in my jaw to try and hide my smile. “Are we negotiating?”
“What do you think?” she asks blandly, dropping her smile into a blank expression.
I can’t lie. She’s a little scary when she looks at me like that.
“I think we should go see what’s in the backyard.”
Patting my cheek like an overly affectionate grandma, she says, “Good choice.”
With a quick peck to her lips, I grab her hand and turn around so she can’t see my eye roll. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s psychic, though, because I no more than get my eyes back into their proper place when she says, “Grayson Lewis, don’t you roll your eyes at me.”
“You’re going to make a great mom. You’ve already got the sixth sense down pat,” I say, smiling back at her as I pull her along with me to the back patio door.
But she plants her feet and tugs against my hand. Stopping, I spin, so I’m facing her again. Worry marks the lines on her face as she chews on her bottom lip.
“What?” I ask, stepping toward her and brushing her hair back from her face. “What did I say?”
She shakes her head, clearing her throat, and tears glisten on her lashes when she looks up at me. “Do you really think I’ll make a good mom?”
That fear plays across her face, and I can tell it’s a question that’s been on her mind. But what I don’t understand is why.
Georgia loves deeply, and she takes care of the people she loves. So, where this fear is coming from, I can’t say.
“Peach, of course, you’re going to make a great mom. There was never a question on my mind about that.”
Her teeth dig deeper into her lip, worrying it until I reach up and gently tug it loose. “I don’t know. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for weeks. What if I don’t get this motherhood thing right? This is someone’s life we are talking about. What if I royally mess it up?”
