Wild Horses (2 page)

Georgia chuckled. She grabbed another card out of her purse. “Here ya go. One of your own.” She handed the card to the boy who hesitantly reached for it.

Jonathan whispered to his son, “What do you say?”

Sweet brown eyes looked up through long lashes. His voice was soft, “Thank you.”

“Good job, kiddo.” Jonathan met her eyes. His brown eyes twinkled.
Oh, it would be so easy to get lost in those.
“We don’t want to keep you, but thanks again.” He slid the card into his back pocket.

“You’re welcome. Nice to meet you both.”

Georgia fired up her car as the two walked toward a black pick-up truck parked farther up the road. She found herself smiling as she headed back to Santa Fe.

****

It took almost a week before she had a chance to download her photos. Business was booming, and by the time she got home, Georgia was beat. A couple days prior, she’d received an email from Jonathan, thanking her again for being willing to share the photos. She sent him a quick response, telling him she hadn’t looked at the photos yet, but that she hoped to get to them soon.

Curled up under her down comforter, she sipped a cup of hot tea while the photos transferred. Mr. Biggis hopped up on the bed and started scratching his chin on the corner of her laptop. She tapped her fingers impatiently as she waited for her computer.

“Hey, big boy, you need some attention?” she rubbed the patch of fur between his eyes as he purred lovingly.

“Ah, good,” she murmured as the last of the photos loaded. Mr. Biggis walked over and plopped down against her leg.

She took her time clicking through more than three hundred photographs. One of the landscape pictures with the fence and the mountains turned out particularly well.

Next, she reviewed the photos of the horses. Georgia selected a handful of potential shots; one or two of those would likely end up on the coffee shop’s wall.

“Time to check out the shots of Jonathan and Aiden.” The boys hadn’t been far from her mind. She wondered about Jonathan and what he did for a living. She guessed Aiden was around four or five. Even though she was only thirty-one and had plenty of time to have children, Georgia never saw herself as a mother. Aiden made her reconsider. He was well-behaved and cute as a button.

Georgia’s jaw dropped as she browsed through their photos. Several of the shots of Jonathan and his son were extraordinary. It was going to be difficult to pick out only a couple to email to him.

Two hours later and well past her bedtime, Georgia composed an email to Jonathan. She barely kept herself from rambling. She attached five shots and crossed her fingers as she hit
Send
. Georgia really hoped he liked them, but there was nothing she could do but wait.

“Well, Mr. Biggis, cross your paws for me,” she yawned and shut down the laptop. “Night, kitty.”

****

Three days. Three stinking days since she sent the email, and she hadn’t received any kind of response. While she tried to console herself with the fact Jonathan could be out of town or could be too busy to check his email, those excuses seemed hollow.

Once the rush died down, Georgia logged into her email. Still nothing. She sighed, upset with herself for being so stuck on hearing from Jonathan.
You know nothing about the man. Knock it off, girl
.

She busied herself with wiping down several of the tables. The door chime indicated a customer. A melodic voice belted out
Georgia on My Mind
. Georgia didn’t bother looking up before greeting Manny. “How’s it going, Officer?”

“A beautiful, yet chilly day in the neighborhood. How’s my Peach?” He grinned unrepentantly before wrapping his beefy arm around her shoulder.

“Only you, Manny.” She chuckled and stood her on tiptoes, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “How’s Chad?”

“Doing well, thanks for asking. He’s happy business has been so brisk at the gallery.”

Georgia nodded. “Good, glad to hear it. What kind of latte would you like?”

He scratched his chin before answering, “The usual.”

  “So predictable, you are.” She’d begun to make his drink when the door chimed again.

  A man paused just inside the door. He appeared to be taking in the shop’s décor. Finally, he made eye contact with Georgia, and laid a dazzling smile on her. “Hey, Georgia! Nice place you’ve got here.”

Georgia glanced at Manny who now resembled an overprotective big brother, his gaze direct, studying the newcomer. She stifled a chuckle. “Hey, Jonathan! This is a pleasant surprise.”

He walked up to the counter and shot Manny an inquisitive glance. Manny hadn’t moved, but at least his expression softened into curiosity.
Jonathan nodded, “Officer,” then studied the board behind the counter.

“Can I make you a drink?” She handed Manny his latte and tried not to fidget, surprised by how nervous she was. For some reason, she wanted Jonathan to be impressed.

He crinkled his nose before saying, “Maybe just a black coffee? I’m not into all that flavored, sweet stuff.”

Although he didn’t know it, Jonathan just lost major points with Manny. Georgia shot the cop a look. He rolled his eyes and loomed over the end of the counter. “Sure. That’s easy enough.”

As she handed Jonathan the mug, her fingers brushed his. The jolt of electricity in their touch made her release the mug before Jonathan had a secure grip on it. Georgia watched in horror as the cup crashed on the granite counter, sending coffee flying. Most of it landed on the front of Jonathan’s button-down shirt.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Georgia frantically grabbed a handful of paper towels and passed them to Jonathan.

“No worries, I’ll live; although, I’m not so sure about the shirt.” Jonathan wiped his hands on the towels before mopping up his shirt.

Ever helpful, Manny motioned to his right. “Bathroom’s that way if you want to clean up.”

By the time Georgia looked at Manny, the latte was poised in front of his mouth. Given the wrinkles around his eyes, he was trying to hide at least a smile if not a laugh.

Georgia glared at the officer before handing Jonathan another handful of napkins. When she looked over at him, he just shrugged.
Men!
  At least the tension in the room had diffused.

“Let me get you another cup of coffee. I promise not to drop this one.”

Jonathan held up his hands, palms out. “You know, that was enough coffee for one day. Thanks, though.” He threw the last batch of soiled napkins in the trash. “I have to confess: my goal in stopping by was to talk with you about the pictures. They were . . . incredible. Although, that word doesn’t come close to describing them accurately.”

Georgia walked around the counter, grateful for the change of subject. Maybe she hadn’t ruined her chances, despite drowning him in hot coffee. “We don’t have to stand. Why don’t we take a seat in front of the fireplace?” She gestured to the grouping of leather chairs.

Manny shook his head, “Thanks, my southern belle, but duty calls.” He pulled Georgia against his body and wrapped his arms around her. Burying his face next to her ear, he whispered, “Be careful.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and spoke loud enough for just her. “Get me his last name, and I’ll run him through our system; make sure he’s clean.”

Georgia couldn’t believe his nerve! She appreciated him and Harry looking out for her, but this was a bit much. She skimmed her hand up the back of his neck and pulled his head down to hers. She seethed, “You will do no such thing, Officer Palmero.”

His eyes filled with mirth, and he let loose with a laugh. “Whatever you say, babe!” He headed toward the door.

Men: can’t live with ‘em; can’t shoot ‘em
. She took a seat adjacent to Jonathan. “Don’t mind him. Manny always treats me like his baby sister, who can’t do anything for herself. He and his partner had me over for Christmas dinner. They are quite the pair!”

Jonathan looked bemused. She guessed he didn’t expect Manny to be gay. “Definitely protective.” His hand indicated several of the landscape photos. “You’re very talented. I wanted to talk with you about printing out some of the photos of me and Aiden. I’d like to frame them.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. In fact, I have an agreement with the local frame shop. If you give me an idea of style, I’ll have them framed. It’s the least I can do, given your ruined shirt.”

He glanced at the now damp shirt. “I’m not worried about it.” When he looked up, his eyes met and held hers. Georgia couldn’t look away—his eyes drilled into her heart.
What is that stirring low in my stomach? It has been so long.
She looked away, not able to take the intensity of his gaze. “Georgia,” his voice was husky.

She shifted nervously, crossing her legs. She risked a glance at his eyes. Desire bled through their chocolate depths. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.
Get a hold of yourself, girl!
Back to business. We were talking about photography.
She studied the flickering flames in the fireplace when she spoke, “If you want to email me the photos and what sizes you want, I can get an estimate on the printing and framing.”

A warm hand grasped hers and squeezed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Georgia. You’re an attractive, talented woman. I thought . . . um, I hoped you might like to go to dinner some time . . . if you aren’t already involved.”

She chuckled, although it was forced. “Nope, nobody in my life.” She wanted to say yes, dinner sounded great but things seemed too good to be true. No way was this hottie interested in her. “I’m not sure . . .”

He gave her hand another squeeze and used a finger to lift her chin. “Georgia, it’s just dinner. You can pick the place if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

She felt a smile form.
Georgia, you can do this
. She studied his whiskered jaw – safer than looking into those eyes. “Okay . . . dinner would be nice.”

“Saturday night work for you? I can come to Santa Fe.”

Her eyes traveled to his mouth when his tongue snuck out and moistened his bottom lip. Georgia’s mind filled with lust-driven thoughts.
What is wrong with me?

He leaned closer when she didn’t answer. “Georgia?”

Oh yeah. Saturday. Restaurant. Right. “Yeah,” her voice squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Saturday is fine. El Gordo’s?”

He chuckled, his minty breath filling her nose and mouth. “I know it. There is a beautiful view from the second story. I’ll make reservations for seven.”

“Seven, good.” If she leaned just a bit closer, she could swipe her tongue out and sample that minty goodness. She was, however, saved by the bell. A couple entering the shop broke the mood between her and Jonathan.
Close one!

She greeted the customers before standing. “So, I’ll meet you there Saturday?”

His eyes dimmed just a bit. “I don’t mind picking you up. How about I meet you here at six-thirty?”

Georgia hesitated. “Sure. That will work.” She looked toward the customers who studied her drink board. “I need to go,” she said softly.

Jonathan stood and waved good-bye. He smiled, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

****

Friday night found Georgia a mess of nerves and second thoughts. Halfway through a glass of red wine, she convinced herself to email Jonathan and cancel their date. No way could she go through with it. Her mother hadn’t been dead a year, and she was contemplating a relationship with someone. What if tragedy befell him? Then where would she be? Georgia couldn’t handle the thought of getting close to someone only to lose him, too.

She and her mother had been the best of friends. Her father passed away suddenly when she was just a little kid; Georgia didn’t have any memories of her dad. As she got older, her mom became more like an older sister to her. They had such a great relationship; one that she now missed terribly, as though a piece of her heart had been ripped away when her mother died, and she was left with a gaping, festering wound.

She put a quick call in to Lucy. The woman agreed to cover the shop for her both Saturday and Sunday. Georgia figured she would hibernate and go into avoidance mode. Hopefully, Jonathan wasn’t a stalker, who would check to see if she manned the shop. In any case, if he did, he would find Lucy there.

After hanging up with Lucy, she hit
Send
on the email. Her excuse of being sick was lame, but with wintertime came the flu and stomach bug. Hopefully, he would believe her and not offer to deliver chicken soup.

****

Saturday and Sunday dragged by. Georgia was utterly miserable. She felt horrible for cancelling the date. The email response from Jonathan was nice enough. He said he hoped she felt better soon and asked when she would like to reschedule.
Thank goodness!
She had yet to respond. Georgia wished she was stronger and could face her fears and doubts. She truly didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone, but maybe she needed more time?

“What do you think, Mr. Biggis? Can I be that brave?” She’d finished her last bottle of wine Saturday night so she sat sipping at vodka on the rocks.

Of course the cat didn’t answer, but he looked at her as though he thought her crazy.

She was saved from further conversation with her having-trouble-staying-awake beast, when her doorbell rang. Georgia jumped. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Random visitors didn’t usually stop by to visit her. Besides, she would not answer the door looking like a bum. Her hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun, and she wore a baggy Denver Broncos shirt over leggings.

Ding-dong.

“Damn it, go away!” She yelled at the door.
Can’t people get a clue?

Apparently not, as her phone beeped with an incoming text. It read:
open the door, peach, know ur home
.

She threw her phone on the ottoman and stomped down the stairs. If she didn’t answer, Manny would continue the harassment until she did.

She pulled the door open, huffed in greeting, and started back up the stairs. Manny followed her and took in the messy living room. He picked up her glass, sniffed it, and promptly walked to the kitchen and poured it down the sink.

“What the hell, Manny?” she stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms akimbo.

He pushed by her and took a seat on her couch. She followed and slumped on the opposite end. “What’s up, darlin’? Not like you to miss two weekend days at the shop. Plus, you were out of sorts on Friday when I stopped by.”

She rolled her eyes. Fine, if he wanted to play shrink, she would let him. No doubt it would be the only time. He would run scared the next time she was in this position. “I was supposed to have a date Saturday night, but I cancelled. Got cold feet.”

“With that guy? The one about the photographs?” Manny shifted, getting more comfortable. The man dwarfed her leather loveseat.

She huffed. “Yep. That’d be the one.”

“Why’d you cancel? Despite my ribbing, he seemed like a nice guy.”

Georgia picked at a hole in her leggings. “I’m not ready. It’s too soon after Mom’s . . .” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Oh,
mi amor
. You can’t let your mother’s death keep you from a chance at love.” He reached across the couch and pulled her into his body.

She snuggled into his lap, fighting back tears.
What is with me and crying around this man? Sheesh!
“I hear you, I really do. I just . . . don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can. You are the strongest woman I know. Besides, you have me, Chad, and Harry as moral support.” He poked her in the ribs. “You can do this!”

She sniffled through her giggles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Now, do you have his phone number? Can you call him and set something up?” He poked her again. “I know you, and I am not leaving until you contact him.”