The Wrong Time Page 10

  I’m so pleased we won’t have to deal with those people again. Mom has no idea of what’s happened to Lauren. But I don’t bother explaining something I’d rather forget. She’s got a new friend in Georgia now, who’s more than happy to do her hair and watch Friends with her.

  Driving up the narrow driveway, I pull around to the back of the house, parking my car in its usual position in the open garage right next to Georgia’s car.

  I surprised her a month ago with the new car I added to my fleet. At first, she was hesitant to accept it, but it only took one drive of the sexy little black Audi, and she was hooked. She treats it like her baby now. It’s smaller than mine, but it’s exactly what she needs. Something zippy and safe to get her from point A to point B.

  Georgia’s standing at the kitchen window, the smile on her face looks forced as though she needs to tell me something. She’s added new lights and window ornaments at the rear of the house since I’ve been at my meeting. I chuckle to myself thinking she must be worried about what I’ll say about adding more lighting. I think I have created a monster by giving her creative control.

  After getting out of my car, I lock it and walk to the back door. Georgia pulls open the door, throwing her arms around my neck.

  Wrapping my arms around her back, I pull her in tight, enjoying our closeness. But I notice after a few moments, she’s not letting go.

  I lean back, wondering what on earth is going on.

  Tapping her arm to gain her attention, I whisper, “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. I just missed you.” She lets go of me and takes a few steps back. I shuffle forward a little before closing the door. “How was your meeting?”

  “Yeah, good. I think in another few weeks, maybe the new year, I will only need to attend once a week. Try and spread it out a little further. I’m feeling stronger than I have in a long time.”

  “That’s good, Adam,” her voice soft, but it’s as if she’s got something else on her mind.

  “Georgia, are you sure you’re all right? You sound a bit down.”

  “I’ve been thinking over the last hour, but it’s probably nothing.” Her lips form a tight line before she changes the subject. “I made some Christmas cookies while you were gone. Wanna try one?” She grabs a tray off the counter and holds it out for me.

  I frown at her mood change. It’s unlike her to be like this. I reach out and take one of the undecorated cookies. “Sure. What type are these?”

  “Sugar cookies. This was Dad’s mom’s recipe. I found it the other day when I was unpacking some things.”

  Taking a bite, I instantly enjoy the sugary treat. It’s delicious. The beam from my face tells Georgia how much I love the taste.

  “Good?” she asks.

  “Mmm…” I hum. “So yummy,” I add, taking another bite. The sweet treat crumbles in my mouth with the buttery goodness.

  “Grab another one if you’d like. I have a movie ready to play if you want to watch it with me.”

  “Sure. Sounds good,” I answer, grabbing two more cookies before following Georgia to the couch. I can see she has the opening sequence of Die Hard on the screen. It’s one of my favorites.

  She sits down, and I sit next to her, expecting her to cuddle into me as she usually does. But this time, she stays on her side of the couch, hands clasped together and resting on her lap. She appears tense.

  I pat the couch next to me, encouraging her, but she quickly shakes her head, staring straight ahead at the frozen screen.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask again, wondering what the hell happened while I was gone.

  “Really, it’s nothing,” she mumbles.

  “Georgia,” I exclaim, trying to get her to look at me.

  She begrudgingly turns, her eyes tell me that it’s more than just a random thought that has her worried.

  “Tell me what’s on your mind,” I encourage. “Remember, honesty.”

  She nods before looking down. “If I tell you that, I’m worried you’ll get mad.”

  “Is my credit card bill going to be huge for all of these lights? Or perhaps our power bill?” I laugh. “Because if it is, I told you—”

  “It’s not that. Nothing to do with it. I powered up my old cell today as I needed to find instructions on how to get to my dad’s parents’ graves. I couldn’t remember the name of the cemetery.”

  “Did you find it? I’ll happily drive you there.”

  “Oh, yeah, I found it. But while the cell was on, a message came through… from my mom.”

  “Your mom?” I ball my hands into fists. The last thing Georgia needs right now is contact with that woman.

  I don’t know what to say. This is the woman who treated Georgia like shit on her shoe since the day she was born. Why would she try to make contact out of the blue? I’m skeptical about it.

  All I know is that fucker Alfred better not come anywhere near my girl.

  Georgia

  Adam’s eyebrows have been raised for the last few minutes. He’s just as shocked as I am that Mom sent a text message.

  Finding the message on my cell from my mom blew me away. She never texted me when I lived with her, let alone asked how I was.

  “Don’t get angry. That was the reason why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  Adam’s reaction could have gone several ways and was the one reason I wasn’t sure if I should tell him or not. Truth is, when he got home, I was still trying to deal with seeing the message on the screen. At first, I stared at it for a good twenty minutes before I put it down and started pacing the house. Sometimes it’s best to leave people in the past. If she had her way twenty-five years ago, perhaps I wouldn’t have even existed.

  “I’m glad you did. What did she actually say?” he grunts. I know he’s trying to remain calm, but I can tell by his body language he is anything but.

  “It was from a few weeks ago. She was asking how I was and if I was injured in the incident. I don’t know how she knows what happened, though.”

  Adam nods like he’s deep in thought, his expression softening.

  I can’t imagine how Mom knew about the kidnapping. It’s not like they would have contacted her as my next of kin. I suppose it could have been in the newspaper, and I know how much my mom likes to read her newspaper for three hours over breakfast on a weekend.

  “Georgia—” Adam starts.

  I cut him off. I don’t want to talk about Mom tonight. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to ignore it, anyway. She never cared about me when I lived under her roof, so why should she give a rat’s ass about me now? She’s probably wanting to leave Alfred and wants money, just like the last few boyfriends she had.” I shrug my shoulders. I’m no longer upset. Honestly, I don’t think I care. My therapist has been at me to talk more about my mom, but I keep saying I’m not ready. Perhaps it’s because she means nothing to me.

  Even with Mom’s parents, I still feel a small twinge whenever they are mentioned, even though they don’t care about me. I wonder how they are. But I’m at the stage with my mom that if I never heard from her again, or didn’t see her, I wouldn’t care. My life will keep moving forward. I’ve met an amazing man who’s willing to show me how fantastic life can be. I don’t need negativity like my mom pulling me down.

  I’m not prepared at all for what comes out of Adam’s mouth next.

  “Georgia, let me finish… I was going to say that perhaps you should text her back.”

  My eyes almost bulge from my head.

  Why would Adam be encouraging me to contact my mom?

  It’s not like he’s heard any glowing comments about her.

  “What?” I screech, hoping I’ve misheard what he originally said. Only minutes before he was losing his shit that she’d contacted me at all, and now he wants me to reply? That’s strange.

  “It’s only a text. I’m not encouraging you to have a meal with her.”

  The expression on my face must say what I’m thinking.

  Has he go
t rocks in his head?

  Surely, he can’t be fucking serious?

  “Hear me out,” he starts, twisting in his seat to face me. “Tonight, at the meeting we spoke briefly about second chances—”

  “That woman has had a billion chances in my eyes,” I blurt out.

  “I know, sweetheart, but there was a woman there tonight who spoke about how her drinking affected her relationship with her daughter, and she’s trying hard for a second chance.”

  “Should you be telling me what happens at the meetings?” I ask. I’m sure it’s meant to be confidential.

  “I’m not naming names nor would I ever. I’m just giving you a quick summary. Anyway, coming home to you telling me about this has me thinking that perhaps she’s after that second chance with you. What I’m trying to say is that maybe a quick text won’t hurt. If you don’t want to contact her again, you don’t have to. But maybe there’s a reason why she’s contacting you.” He lightly rubs his hand across my knee.

  “My guess is… it’s money-related.”

  Adam slowly nods his head. “If it is, then you’ll know. The good thing about this whole situation is she only has your old cell number, and you can switch it off or disconnect it, and not have to contact her again. Don’t think of it as a second chance because she’s had too many of those. Give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “That’s true,” I reply.

  He’s always so knowledgeable. Adam’s planted a seed in my brain, and I’m starting to think of all the possible reasons Mom could be contacting me about. Perhaps something has happened to one of her parents. As much as they were cold fish like her, they are still my grandparents.

  “What about Alfred, though? I don’t want to be anywhere near that creep.”

  “Tell her that. Stay strong. You tell her how you want this to work. You’ll be in control.”

  He’s right. It’s time for me to use my newfound strength and live my life the way I want to live it. I don’t want Alfred anywhere near me, and that’s how it will be.

  We sit in silence for what feels like the longest of times. Many different scenarios play out in my head. Some include Alfred, although I try to block those out. I keep coming back to the different what-ifs. Adam’s words of encouragement about giving her the benefit of the doubt resonate inside me.

  I get up and walk to the hall stand where my old cell lays and pick it up, coming back to sit with Adam on the couch. Running my thumb over the home button several times, I finally press on it before working through and selecting my mother’s text message.

  I show Adam the message, and he gives me a half-smile and shrugs his shoulders. “What have you got to lose, sweetheart? Healing and moving forward is important,” he says before leaning in and brushing his lips across my cheek.

  He’s right. I don’t really have anything to lose. Mom doesn’t know where I am or where I’m working. So, if it gets too much, or she tries anything, I can shut my cell down and be done with her.

  Georgia: Hi Mom, I’m fine. My ankle was sprained but healed now. Hope you’re well.

  I pass the cell to Adam, who quickly reads it before smiling. “I think that’s good. Answers her questions and leaves it up to her if she wants to reply again or not.”

  Agreeing with him, I tap the arrow to send the message while my courage is still present, then place the cell on the coffee table in front of us. It’s what Mom would deem late at night, barely ten, but I stare at the cell for well over twenty minutes expecting a reply.

  Maybe I was too blunt? Perhaps she’s gotten her answer now to satisfy her curiosity and she won’t reply? For someone who thinks she doesn’t care about her mother, I sure have her on my mind right now.

  Adam tries to take my mind off it by playing the movie. I know how much he loves Die Hard, so I get up and clean the kitchen from my earlier cooking session before coming back to sit with him again. I can’t relax, though. My leg’s bouncing up and down as I glance at the cell every few seconds.

  This is stupid.

  Don’t fixate on her.

  She’s so not worth it.

  She’s probably asleep anyway.

  Agreeing with my inner thoughts, I decide I can’t sit around thinking all night. I’m not in the mood to watch the movie, and I tell Adam. While he looks a little disappointed that I don’t want to watch it, he switches it off, turning his attention to me. He can tell I’m fixating on this message and tries to calm me down.

  “Georgia, do you want to talk it out?” Adam asks.

  I furiously shake my head.

  I don’t want to talk.

  I don’t want to think about this anymore.

  Don’t dwell on things, Georgia.

  Take those feelings and channel them into another outlet.

  “What do you want to do then?” he asks.

  “Show me how to use the weights in the gym. I was told that working out helps clear the mind of negative things.”

  “It sure can. But you can’t exercise in jeans and a hoodie. Go and put on something more appropriate. I’ll meet you in there in five.”

  I grin at what he says, but I have another idea. I plan to tease him. Wriggling my butt at him, I turn, walking briskly upstairs to find some workout clothing.

  Knowing I don’t own any kind of sports gear, I take off my jeans and panties and pull on a pair of tiny shorts, the kind your ass cheeks practically hang out of. I replace my hoodie and bra with a tank top with built-in support. Not that I’m going to need the support. I’m freezing, even with the heating on, so I wrap a jacket around me, hopefully adding an element of surprise for Adam.

  Putting my hair into a messy bun piled on top of my head, I slip into my running shoes. My outfit is terribly mismatched, but I don’t care. My plan is to have a little fun tonight, and I’m sure when Adam sees what I’m wearing, my outfit won’t stay on for long, anyway.

  Walking downstairs, I head straight to where the gym equipment is set up and curl my leg around the door before poking my head inside.

  Adam’s sitting on the bench attached to the weights.

  “Ready to show me a workout?” I ask, a smile turning up on either side of my mouth.

  He mouths, “Wow,” before standing and walking over to me.

  But before he reaches me, I step into the room, walk to him, and place my hand firmly on his chest, pushing him back to the bench. Collapsing on the seat, he sucks in a deep breath as I wrap my arms around his neck, straddle him, and smash my mouth to his.

  As I run my fingers through his longer-than-usual hair, I pull him closer, deepening our kiss and thrusting my tongue into his mouth. His hands cup my ass before he palms my globes until a hand suddenly disappears under my shorts.

  I feel the thrum of a deep throaty grunt as we kiss before he pulls back, a smile creeping up one side of his face. He’s realized I’m not wearing any panties.

  “Ohhh… you bad girl. You had no intention of working out tonight. Did you, sweet one?” His voice is deeper than usual, and my body shivers at the sound.

  I grin and gently shake my head.

  His cock’s growing harder by the second, pushing against his pants, teasing me with its size.

  “Move back a little,” he murmurs, but I stop him in his tracks.

  “No. I’m in charge,” I purr, sliding back a little further, trying to get off his legs.

  Instead of being graceful like it’s playing out in my mind, my pants get caught on something on the underside of the bench, and I fall backward, landing headfirst with a thump, and my legs in the air almost kicking Adam in the face.

  “Ouch,” I cry from the floor. I’m not exactly flexible, so this awkward position has my back angry at me. The pain is nothing compared to the embarrassment I’m feeling. Allowing my head to slide back to ease the pain, my legs flop to the floor with a thud as my back relaxes flat against the carpet.

  “Shit. Are you all right, Georgia?” Adam asks, still sitting on the bench. “That happened so fast, I couldn�
�t catch you.”

  Holy shit. Why can’t I just be normal for once?

  I place my hand over my face as I feel the warmth spread over me. I don’t know why I ever think I can be sexy and graceful. I’m the biggest klutz in all of history. “I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

  Reaching down, I realize I’ve torn my pants, which are now pretty much holding on by one leg, my pussy partially exposed. I grasp at the fabric, trying to protect whatever modesty is left.

  Adam smiles as he slides down onto the floor, his hands resting on my knees. “This is where I like you,” he growls, pushing my legs apart before lowering his shorts.

  He leans forward, grappling with my ripped shorts. I think he was trying to tear the rest of the fabric off my body, but instead, he gives up and slides it over my bent knees, the material moving down my legs to my feet, brushing against my pussy. I shudder at the sensation.

  “What happened to me being in control?” I ask, slightly disappointed that he’s taken over.

  “Another time. How can I resist you in this position? I need this.” His hand cups my pussy, making me gasp for air as he runs a finger along my slit.

  Letting me go, he crawls up my body, my heart racing as I anticipate what’s to come.

  His mouth crashes on mine causing my breath to hitch. One of his hands is between us, and as his tongue enters my mouth, massaging mine, he thrusts his cock into me, and a groan escapes my throat.

  Adam grabs my hands, lifting them above my head, holding them there with the weight of one arm as he brings the other one back and tweaks my nipple, adding to the pleasure I’m already experiencing.

  Normally, I love to touch him while we make love, but this is new to me and something I can see us enjoying in the future.

  As much as I wanted to be bossy tonight, I’m so glad he’s taken over. He always knows how to make me lose my breath and my mind, helping me forget what’s going on around me.