Sara Stone - Full Exposure

Eric frowned at her. Liam wasn’t an idiot. If she kept pressing, he’d put the pieces of the puzzle together. And connecting the dots was no way for Liam to find out.

“But don’t worry, big brother,” she continued. “We stayed in and watched the new Ryan Gosling movie. Nothing too exciting.”

Liam snorted. “Man, I owe you one for that.”

Eric looked over at Georgia. She was still smiling, but it looked forced.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Georgia said. “I’ll leave you boys to your gossip.”

Eric watched her leave, knowing that was a lie. Georgia didn’t sleep much. Even when he worked late, she was up when he got home most nights. After Liam left, he should swing by her room and talk. Or maybe he should let her have some time and space to think things through. He should probably do that himself. Between Georgia, his mother, and now the DOF investigation, it was a wonder his head hadn’t exploded.

WHEN KATIE HAD invited her out for a new homecoming adventure, Georgia had jumped at the chance for a distraction from the constant stream of questions and doubts running through her mind about her time at Eric’s condo. Georgia had expected a trail ride or a hike. But no, her friend had driven her straight to Ariel’s Hair & Nail Salon.

“Waiting for nail polish to dry is not exactly my idea of a fun morning.” Georgia wiggled her freshly painted red toes. The color was bright and cheerful, but did little for her brooding mood.

“Sit back and relax,” Katie said. “Drink your lemon water. This is girl time. You need this. And now that we’re alone, I want all the details.”

After their pedicures, they’d moved to the salon’s back patio to sip the supposedly detoxifying water and wait for their nails to dry.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Georgia said, hoping the line she’d used with her brother last night would work on Katie.

“Fair enough. But I have one question. If your brother knew, would he start throwing punches?”

“Yes.”

Katie let out a sigh, covering her heart with her hand.

“Oh please, this is not a fairy-tale romance,” Georgia said. “And I have a question for you. How did your brother find out you were watching Nate the other night?”

Katie’s eyes widened. “Not from me.”

“Chad told Liam that I’m seeing someone. And Liam confronted me last night. In front of Eric.”

Katie closed her eyes. “Oh no. I mentioned that I’d been playing trains with Nate to Lila. The receptionist at the office,” she said, referring to her family trucking company. “She has a two-year-old boy who is just starting to like trains. She must have said something. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Georgia said. “I told him Eric was helping me find an outlet for my adventurous spirit.”

Katie laughed. “There’s a degree of truth to that. Do you think Liam suspects something more?”

“Maybe.” Georgia stared at her red toes. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“Because of Liam?” Katie picked up the pitcher of lemon water and refilled their glasses.

“Yes. But only a little.”

“You’re entitled to your private life,” Katie said, her voice strong and fierce. “You and Eric—that has nothing to do with Liam. Don’t let your brother stand in your way.”

“It’s complicated.” Her fear of opening up and letting someone in, leaning on them and trusting them, ran bone deep. She could see that now.

Katie reached over and took her hand. “Honey, you’ve loved Eric Moore since you were a teenager. This was never simple. But if neither one of you is willing to make the first move, to push this further, then you’re at a standstill. And I’m starting to think that would hurt you more than anything.”

Georgia nodded, the truth in her friend’s words sinking in. “He made the first move. He wanted to tell my brother. I’m the one holding back.”

“Oh, Georgia. Why?”

Georgia stared at the mountains. She was home. Safe. Yet, it still felt as if she couldn’t let down her guard, as if she needed to fight her way through every minute of every single day. And she had to do it by herself.

“I get the feeling he wants to step into my life and take over,” she said. “And he wants promises, ones I don’t think I can make without cutting away at my independence.”

It might not happen overnight, but over time, she had a feeling that letting him in, opening her heart to him, would weaken her.

Katie gave her hand a squeeze. “Talk to Eric. Explain how you feel. I think he might surprise you.”

HOURS LATER, GEORGIA closed the door to Nate’s room without making a sound. The little boy had protested going to bed without seeing Eric, but she’d insisted. She’d waited as long as she could, and Nate had nearly fallen asleep on the floor beside his train tracks.

She headed for the kitchen, mentally switching gears from toddlers and trains to how she would approach her conversation with Eric tonight. Exposing her emotional vulnerability—it was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid that first night when she’d gone into his bedroom. But if she didn’t, Katie was right—they’d reach a standstill. And that’s the one thing Georgia could not stomach—hiding from her life, instead of taking action. She had to face her fears. This was her life. She had to live it, even if doing so hurt.

She went to the kitchen and started cleaning the dinner dishes, scraping the remains of Nate’s mac and cheese into the trash. In her pocket, her cell vibrated.

“I’m at home, Liam,” Georgia said, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder while she finished loading the dishwasher. “I just put Nate to bed, and I’m getting ready to prepare his snack for preschool tomorrow. Nothing crazy.”

Unless you include preparing to confront my lover, who also happens to be your best friend.

“I’m not calling to check up on you,” her brother said. “Not this time. I wanted to give you a heads-up that Eric had a bad day.”

Georgia frowned. “Worse than fighting a forest fire?”

“Yeah. This morning he had to fire B&B Trucking. Their guys showed up late again. The owner didn’t take it well. He’d been working with Moore Timber since Eric’s father ran the business. Summers Family Trucking stepped up. But as soon as we fixed that problem, he got called into a DOF meeting. His assistant told me he left in a huff,” her brother said. “So go easy on him tonight.”

“I will.” And that meant the little talk she’d planned would have to wait.

“No wild stunts,” Liam added.

“I’ll call and cancel my BASE jumping plans.”

“Georgia—”

“Good night, Liam.” She hung up the phone and opened the fridge. The housekeeper had left a pot of chicken stew and wild rice. Healthy, but not exactly comfort food. Georgia pulled out the weekend bacon and began heating a pan. She had just started slicing the tomato when Eric opened the door leading to the attached garage.

Her senses turned up to high alert before she even caught sight of him. And when she looked up?

It didn’t matter what he wore, he couldn’t hide his drool-worthy muscles. But tonight, seeing him in his business suit? Her fingers itched to unbutton his dress shirt and explore what lie beneath. Her gaze traveled up his torso to his face, noting the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. Poor man, he looked as if the past twenty-four hours had drained him completely.

“I’m making BLTs,” she said, turning her attention back to the tomato before she sliced her fingers.

“I smelled the bacon in the garage.” His voice was a deep rumble. “I thought I was on restriction.”

She started assembling the sandwiches, trying not to think about the way her breasts perked up at the sound of his voice. They needed to talk tonight before she even considered going down that road. “Liam called. Said you had a bad day. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll grab you a drink. Beer?”

“Water is fine.” He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, undoing the top button of his dress shirt before sinking into a chair.

Georgia brought the sandwiches to the table and sat across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Bad day. That’s all.” Eric shook head. “The DOF believes we failed to follow the fire precautions. They’re accusing us of running chainsaws during restricted hours.”

Her eyes widened. “But you didn’t, right?”

“I sure as hell hope not. We’d be on the hook for the full cost of the fire if we did,” he said. “But it’s not the money that gets to me. I hate sitting in those meetings, answering their damn questions, when I know they’re fishing for some way to pin this on us. They won’t have cold, hard facts until they determine the fire’s point of origin. I just want to forget about it until then.”

Freeze the feelings, the weight of it all, and set it aside. She understood that better than most. “If you need an escape, we could skinny-dip in the pond after dinner. The cold water always makes me feel better.”

Eric set down his sandwich, shaking his head. “I don’t think an adrenaline rush will solve my problems.”

“I wasn’t suggesting a rush—”

“This investigation has real consequences, Georgia. For my company and for your brother.”

The spark of irritation she’d felt yesterday when Liam demanded to know the details of her personal life as if she were a teenager who couldn’t be trusted returned. “I know all about real consequences.”

“I know, Georgia,” he said with a sigh. “But this problem can’t be solved by jumping into cold water or with kinky sex.”

And neither could hers. She knew that despite her attempts to bury her emotions. She understood what she was feeling, and the fears that pushed her to make the choices she did, far better than Eric or her brother gave her credit for. They pretended they knew better, but they didn’t have a clue what she’d been through.

Because she hadn’t told them. She hadn’t trusted them or herself enough to share those experiences. That was on her. If she wanted them to see her strength, to understand, she had to open up.

“The other day in your bedroom or Saturday night, in the hot tub, it wasn’t about chasing the next rush. I had sex with you because I wanted you too much to walk away,” she said, her voice firm. “But you’re right. My experience overseas left me with this need to feel alive. It’s the only way I know how to keep going. There are days, less now than before, when I wake up amazed I’m still here. Why me? Of all the people who served alongside me, why did I live? And what am I doing now to prove I deserve a chance to move on when so many others didn’t?”

“Georgia, I’m sorry. You were right. I had a bad day. I should not have snapped at you,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to talk about this.”

“These memories and feelings follow me around, and I keep wondering when I’ll find the words, when I’m going to trust someone enough to let them in. And if anyone will be there to listen when I do.”

She saw the concern in his eyes. Tonight was not the night for this conversation. She knew that. But if not now, when?

“I’m here,” he said, his words strong and firm as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m listening.”

“The men and women I served with, they were good people. Mitch had a wife and a kid back home in North Carolina. Jennifer had twin girls at home. Those kids were her world, and she wanted them to be proud of her. Louis, he was raised by his grandmother and talked about her like she was a saint. They were all such good people. And then . . .”

Georgia closed her eyes. “The first time, I was traveling in a three-vehicle convoy. Mortar rounds exploded one right after the other. Louis, the gunner I was riding with, he was hit. Our vehicle was on fire. We had to get out, but Louis was unresponsive. I had to pull him out.”

She heard the sound of Eric’s chair moving across the floor, but she kept her eyes closed. She suspected he’d walked around the table, as she felt him at her side, but he didn’t touch her.

“One minute Louis was telling me about his grandmother’s cooking,” she continued. “The next I’m dragging his body out of a burning vehicle. I didn’t know we’d lost him. I thought he still had a chance. I rode with him, with his body, to the hospital after the firefight ended. But he was already gone.”

“Georgia, honey—”

“The people I met,” she continued, unable to stop now that she’d started to recount her experiences, “men and women I worked with, shared meals with, they were killed over there. Mortar attacks, IED blasts . . .”