kitchen and stopped in front of Stephen, popping a canapé into his mouth. Chewing, he grumbled, “If anyone should be taking shots at him, it should be me.”
“Teamwork is key in this family.” Bethany set her purse down and dusted off the arms of her blouse. “While we have you to ourselves, I should tell you I am completely fine with you dating Georgie.”
Travis raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, I can tell.”
“She’s smart. Funny. Selfless.” Bethany ticked Georgie’s merits off on her fingers. “And she’s taken charge of her sexuality.”
Stephen interjected a loud sigh. “Gross.”
“As soon as this whole business is finished, she’ll be wading through options.” Another brush of her sleeve. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Travis’s stomach pitched. In the kitchen, pots and pans banged together loudly, mingling with the Castles’ signature bickering. Sights and sounds from his youth, and he was grateful for them now, because they distracted him from his seasickness. Georgie dating other men. Recognizing the best thing to ever happen to them, they would lock her down in a heartbeat. Travis would be nothing more than a stepping-stone. In the past. Before Bethany could rain down another blow, the front door opened again.
In the split second before he saw Georgie, he was hit with anticipation and . . . joy. Yeah, joy. Everything would be fine now. She was here with her wit and funny facial expressions and that way she looked at him. Like she understood his every thought without him even opening his mouth. That was before he saw her.
Holy motherfucking shit, Georgie, are you trying to murder me?
She looked so good it hurt. As in his dick. Hurt.
Why? The long-sleeved dress wasn’t even revealing. The V-neck showed off the swell of her tits, but the buttons came up high enough that you couldn’t classify what was showing as cleavage. No, it was the high hem at the bottom that made his mouth water. The yellow dress was loose around her thighs, but it showed so damn much of them, he wanted to cry. He was scared of her turning around. Didn’t even want to know where that hem hit her ass. Were her legs always so shiny—
Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute. They’d been waxed.
These were lounging-poolside-at-a-resort-in-Vegas legs. Which led him to a seriously disconcerting question. What else had she gotten waxed?
“Georgie,” Kristin said, clapping her hands together. “Look at you.”
Bethany put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Hide your sons, Port Jefferson,” she drawled, sending Travis a wink. “A fashionably late entrance and everything. The student has become the master.”
“More like I got caught talking to Mrs. Casey about a party for her triplets.” Georgie set down the bottle of wine she’d carried in, her eyes briefly landing on Travis. A red blush overtook her face and, goddamn, that uncalculated reaction increased his hunger tenfold. This girl could make a man crawl and had no idea. “She wants an underwater theme, so apparently I’ll be wearing a snorkel and flippers.”
“Do they make clown bathing suits?” Bethany said on a laugh.
“No,” Travis growled. “They don’t.”
Everyone stared at him, including Georgie. He liked having her undivided attention. Putting himself in this awkward situation was worth it just to have her look at him, ground him, show him that rare, honest quality he couldn’t get anywhere else. Yeah, he was staring, too, so he was grateful when Vivian and Morty ambled out of the kitchen with yet another cheese plate.
“I’ll carry it,” Vivian said out of the side of her mouth. “That way you’ll stop eating olives before everyone has a chance to see my masterpiece.”
“It’s food,” Morty pointed out, patting his pocket for his eyeglasses. “Food is supposed to be eaten, not styled.”
Vivian skidded to a halt and thrust the cheese plate at her husband. “Georgie! Is that a dress? Are you wearing a dress?”
“Is that what this is?” Georgie looked down. “I must have worn it by mistake.”
“No! No mistake.” Vivian circled around the back of her daughter. “Oh, excuse me. Someone’s got a pair of pins. And not the kind that go in your hair. What do you think, Travis?”
“Don’t answer that,” Stephen called, draining his beer.
“Mom,” Georgie groaned. “You’re pretty much ensuring I never wear another dress again in this house.”
“My lips are zipped.” Vivian patted her hair and grabbed the cheese plate from Morty, just in time to thwart his olive stealing. “I just think it’s nice, Georgie bringing a date to Sunday dinner. I don’t mind