“I’ll remember you sitting across from me in that red dressand how proud I felt that you were right there, with me, and you’d end thenight in my bed and I’d end it in you, for the rest of my life.”
“Dutch,” she whispered.
“So don’t listen to my bullshit.I’m just impatient to getyou home.”
“Then hurry,” she urged.
He was not about to get in a wreck that would end afantastic day in blood and trauma, so he did not hurry.
He didn’t go slow either.
And outside Carolyn showing, and maybe even partiallybecause of Carolyn showing and how that eased the mental load for Georgie, ithad been a fantastic day.
They’d fooled around in bed all day, whispering to eachother and dozing between times, getting out of it only to grab food and when itcame time to get ready to go out to dinner.
Georgiana told him about her mother, who was definitely amother.A woman who sounded dedicated to nothing but striving to mold her girls intophysical perfection that would attract a man in a way he would not get shot ofher.
Not surprisingly, that meant they had a strainedrelationship that included what amounted to duty visits and texts only, withthe occasional dinner thrown in and the obligatory rotation of holidays betweenher and Georgie’s dad.
Dutch told her how Hound was his dad without being his dad,this not about blood, but about not hooking up with his mom until a few yearsago.
She told him she was uncertain about the crime beat, becauseit required a fair amount of aggression and legwork, and she wanted somethingthat was more about face-to-face interaction and research.
He admitted working in the shop wasn’t so bad, but there hadbeen something about doing what he did for Carlyle that meant something to himand he’d have to think about that and what it meant because Chaos wasn’t aboutthat.Not anymore.Every brother either worked the shop or worked in thegarage.But Dutch was not into builds, or cars, though he was into bikes butonly in the sense of riding them and knowing what he had to know to keep hisrunning.
They’d also had the necessary conversation about birthcontrol.
She told him she was on the Pill, hadn’t been “active” in awhile, but she didn’t take anyone ungloved when she was.And he shared he neverwent in ungloved.When she learned that, she told him when they got there thatnight, she wanted nothing in between.
That was the obvious choice for him too, but he pushed thediscussion so he could make certain she was totally on board with that.
She was.
He still was uncertain.
Until she said, “It’s a matter of trust, Dutch.”
That said it all.
She trusted him.
He trusted her.
And that ended that particular discussion.
It was easy, their flow.Even when he got into the difficultshit, like where he was going in his life, it was effortless to give her that.Look in her eyes, their limbs entwined, no judgment, Georgie not jumping in tosuggest shit or say things to make him process it when he wasn’t ready.
So yeah.
It had been a fantastic day, discovering time with Georgiewas that good when there wasn’t drama swirling with Georgiana proving shewasn’t only gorgeous, but good in a crisis, had a crazy-awesome head on hershoulders and a spectacular sense of humor.
And on these thoughts, it was not a surprise to him that hecould no longer see her in that dress with her beside him in his truck, hercoat on, but still, when he pulled in his drive beside her Subaru, he had hisdoor open before he had the ignition shut off.
Georgie wasn’t fucking around either.When he met her at thehood of his truck, she practically ran on her gold stilettos beside him,holding his hand, to get to his side door.
He knew Murtagh was well and truly his boy when the cat cameto the doorway to the mudroom, let out a truncated, “Mur—?”but at one look atthem, he turned around and moseyed off.
When their coats were on hooks and Georgie had thrown hergold bag to the counter, their knuckles slammed together as each sought theother’s hand.
