than making progress within himself. To be better for her. To what end, he didn’t know yet . . . but with the deadline of their agreement fast approaching, the idea of letting her go threatened his sanity.
Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, Travis snatched the cell phone out of his pocket, tapping the number he’d programmed into his favorites years ago. He didn’t get an answer, but the cheerful recording told him to leave a message.
“Hi. Yeah, my name is Travis Ford. I want to speak with someone about a property appraisal.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
He’d decided to pick Georgie up in a limo at the last second.
It wasn’t a power play or a show of influence. No, if he was honest with himself, the eleventh-hour call he’d made to the limousine company stemmed from his need to soak up as much Georgie as possible. No more lying to himself. Since he wouldn’t be able to read her expressions—and, fuck it, touch her—with two hands on the steering wheel, he’d just pulled up in front of her house in a black stretch. Half the neighborhood was out on their lawns by the time he made it up the path. Tonight had a lot of the same merits as prom night. Travis was wearing a tuxedo, he was picking his date up at the door, and tonight was definitely supposed to signal the end of something.
That reminder caused a baseball to get stuck in his throat.
Travis wasn’t ready for this thing with Georgie to end.
In fact, calling it a “thing” was starting to get on his goddamn nerves. He was closer to Georgie than anyone else in his life. There had been a moment yesterday on the high school baseball field when Travis had dropped every pretense and just let her see everything inside of him. His love for baseball, his sadness over losing the ability to play. He’d forgotten to mask those always-present insecurities and laid them bare . . . and he was still standing. Better than still standing, actually. He felt unburdened. Stronger. Like a better version of himself.
All because of this girl.
Now he was supposed to parade Georgie in front of some corporate assholes and say good-bye to her at the end of the night? A permanent good-bye?
Panic made Travis’s arm too heavy to lift and knock. Why had he decided to put a time limit on this . . . dammit, this thing with Georgie? Being alone had worked very well for him in the past. Answering to no one, keeping every short-lived relationship on his own terms. What he had with Georgie felt outside of his control, though. A flame that fed itself—and he had no fire extinguisher.
The front door of the house opened and Travis’s jaw almost hit the porch. This was not the girl who’d woken him from his self-induced mental coma all those weeks ago. Except for in the eyes. Yeah, she may be dressed to induce fantasies, but that classic Georgie authenticity shone back at him from a pair of green eyes. Unbelievable that her eyes were demanding his focus when she looked insanely hot. Her shoulders were completely bare in the dress, a skirt flaring out around her thighs. Thighs that seemed to stretch forever thanks to the high heels. She was sexy and guileless and there was no one like her.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed. “You, um . . . look very handsome. In that tux.”
Travis’s lower body responded so intensely to the husky quality of her voice, the proof she was attracted to him, that he could only stand there and breathe through it.
“You don’t like the dress,” she said, running her hands down the front of the dress. “I know I’m supposed to be the innocent small-town girl that has saved you from a life of debauchery, but they don’t really make nice enough dresses for that.”
“Georgie.”
“I tried one with a higher neckline, but I didn’t have the right bra, so the straps kept peeking out the sides and—”
“You look fucking perfect. You are perfect.”
The worry in her eyes melted away. “Thank you, Travis.” Her mouth popped open. “Is that a limo?”
“Yeah.” Travis stepped over the threshold and backed Georgie into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He didn’t stop walking until her ass bumped the entry table, rattling knickknacks and making her gasp. “Listen up,” he rasped against her mouth. “You stick by me all night.”
Her fingers curled in his jacket as if they