“I love you,” I breathe out, feeling him pulse inside of me.
I shut my eyes as Miles takes the last final thud into my ass, following suit. He groans, leaning forward and pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“You’re so good, baby. I love you.”
I smile, falling back against him. “I love you, too.”
We collapse together in a sweaty, cuddly mess. Emmett sprawls half off the mattress, Miles throws his arm over my waist, and Brody tucks in behind me, breath warm at the base of my neck.
I close my eyes, heart thudding slow and sure.
This issoworth everything I’ve gone through to get here.
Chapter 31
Brody
Where is she?My eyes scan the faces on the crowded street.
I stand at the curb, hands in my jacket pockets, trying to settle my nerves. As much as I want to be a part of Georgia reaching her dreams…
I also respect that this is a sensitive subject. I get it now.
But I don’t know why she’s taking so long.She’s late, and mentally, I assume she’s either second-guessing herself or lost track of time. I’m hoping it’s the second, because when I last saw her at the penthouse, she’d been so excited, talking so fast that even Emmett had to tell her to slow down.
And that makes me smile to myself. Even if I’m worried.
I scan the block around me once more. It’s comprised of brick row houses, a sea of coffee shops and dry cleaners, and a yoga studio that used to be a synagogue. The foot traffic is solid, a blend of nannies pushing strollers, dog walkers, and tech guys sipping expensive lattes.
It’s perfect for the café.
But I have to let Georgia make that decision for herself.
The windows are floor-to-ceiling…And even dirtier than I remember from the online listing.
But the bones are good.
I can picture her thriving here with a sleek new logo, sidewalk seating, in an apron with her hair back, yelling orders at the staff and taking phone calls from produce vendors.
I finally see her, emerging from the side alley, bag slung over one shoulder and a binder clutched to her chest. She’s in jeans and a yellow tee and I immediately want to kiss her beautiful face.
“Hey,” I call out, and she turns, blue eyes brightening as they meet mine.
She jogs the last few steps. “Sorry. I totally got sidetracked at the hardware store.” She holds up a small brown bag. “Tape measure. You know, for measuring…things.”
“Good idea.” I smile, and she gives me a quick hug, planting a kiss on my cheek.
Georgia then turns to the building, visibly taking it in. “You ready?”
“Of course. After you, boss,” I say, and she grins, already fishing the realtor’s key out of her bag.
The old lock takes some effort, but she’s patient with it. The door groans open, and I wince, making a mental note of needing WD-40.
The air is a mix of ancient linoleum, cardboard, and cinnamon. The space is mostly open, consisting of a big rectangle, thirty by eighty maybe, with a wall of glass and the weathered wood floors. I expected her to linger, but she’s already moving through the place, talking to herself in half-sentences.
“Okay, I know it looks rougher than the pictures,” she starts, “but the light in the afternoon is incredible. Watch…” She walks to the window and points at the shadow line on the floor. “See that? By three in the afternoon, this whole area will be golden. I’m thinking small tables here, by the window, with…” Her voicetrails off as she flips open her binder to a page of sketched layouts. “See? Two-tops and a few four-seaters.”
I lean in. “I like it. Let them feel like they have plenty of room, not packed in like sardines.”
