“There’s nothing to tell,” he said, his voice firm. He set Nate down by the train picnic and headed for the hall.
Twenty minutes later, Eric pulled up alongside Georgia and cut the engine on his four-wheeler. The spot she’d picked for their early evening picnic offered a view of the valley and the surrounding mountains. He frowned. He knew this area. And this spot was not on his land. A couple from California had cleared the homesite a few years back, but then the market dipped, especially in rural Oregon. It had been empty ever since.
“You know, I own plenty of acres with good picnic spots,” Eric said. “We don’t need to trespass.”
“No one will know, and this place has great views.” She released the bungee cords securing their meal to the back of her vehicle.
“Any more surprises I should be aware of? We’re not going to skydive after dinner?”
Georgia smiled sweetly. “Nope. Now we eat and shoot some arrows.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who brings a bow to dinner.” He released the cords holding the equipment she’d placed on the back of his four-wheeler.
She shrugged, attaching the quiver to her belt. “I figured we could both use the practice. When was the last time you shot a bow?”
“Before Nate moved in. These days most of my spare time is spent with him, and he’s too young to handle one of these. Maybe when he is older I’ll teach him.” He shook his head. “I’ll add it to the list, which grows longer every day. There is so much I want to show him.”
“You’re a good dad.” Georgia set the basket and blanket down. “I knew that from the moment I started living with you two.”
Eric froze, the bow in his hand. “You did?”
He’d felt as if he’d been standing on the edge of parenting failure since Nate arrived. He loved and provided for him, but he wasn’t sure it was enough, especially for a kid whose world had been turned upside down and inside out.
But what else was he supposed to do? He didn’t have a clue. His parents were not the best role models. As a kid, he had often felt like a footnote in their lives instead of the focus.
“How?” Eric asked. “How did you know?”
Georgia turned her head to one side, studying him. And in that moment, he felt vulnerable and exposed, as if he’d showed up at a work site buck naked.
“You made Nate the center of your world,” she said. “He comes first.”
Eric nodded. “He does.”
Georgia walked a few steps from her chosen picnic site. He watched as she set her sights on a towered pine, withdrew an arrow from the quiver, and raised her bow. “Having a three-year-old hasn’t left much time for you, has it? And your personal life?”
She let the arrow fly, hitting the tree in the center.
“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m seeing someone?” he said.
“No.” Georgia pulled out a second arrow and handed it to him. “I’d know if you were. Unless you’re sneaking off to a motel while we’re all asleep.”
Eric laughed, taking the arrow and loading his bow. “I’m not. If I was, someone in this town would find out and they’d talk.”
“I didn’t think so,” Georgia said. “But just because you’re not dating doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
He turned his gaze back to Georgia. His body tightened, jumping to conclusions at the thought of fun and Georgia.
“How about a friendly competition?” she suggested. “Best out of three? Winner claims the prize.”
She was talking about arrows and adventure while his lust-filled mind barreled straight across the line into a place he couldn’t go, not with her.
Eric raised his bow, aiming for the arrow she’d placed in the tree. “You’re on. What’s the prize?”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Georgia grin. “You prepare breakfast for one week.”
Eric released the arrow, watching as it missed the tree. “You want to win a week of cold cereal? That’s the extent of my cooking.”
“Hmm, you’re right.” Then her smile widened, lighting up her brown eyes. “How about you have to buy me all the gumballs I want for one week?”
“Gumballs?” Eric laughed, shaking his head. Growing up, if Georgia won a bet—with him, Liam, or anyone else—she’d demand payment in gumballs from the machine outside the Independence Falls grocery. “Seriously?”
She nodded, fighting to look serious. “Old habits die hard.”
“And if I win, what is my prize? A candy bar?”
“Sure.” She glanced at his first failed attempt to hit the tree. “But I wouldn’t start thinking about whether you want nuts and caramel or peanut butter cups just yet.”
His competitive drive, which had thrust him to the top of his industry, took hold. Pushing aside everything else, Eric focused on hitting the target. But by the time the sun edged behind the mountain peaks, Georgia had three arrows embedded in the tree. And Eric had one.
He shook his head as he headed out to collect the arrows while Georgia did a victory dance. “No need to gloat,” he called over his shoulder.
“Come on, every win deserves a victory dance. You and Liam taught me that when you finally let me play flag football with you in high school. And I just won a week’s worth of gumballs.”
He marched back to the picnic area with the arrows. “We’re not kids anymore, Georgia.”
Eric regretted the words the moment they crossed his lips. Every time he looked at her, he grew more and more aware of that simple fact. Her jeans hugged the curves he wanted to run his hands over. The fabric of her shirt brushed the smooth skin of her stomach and low back. Georgia was a lot of things—but she wasn’t a kid.
She froze midtwirl. “No, we’re not.”
Her words were heavy. It was as if he’d reminded her of everything she’d seen and done, experiences that, at twenty-six, pushed her far away from childhood innocence. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she’d witnessed, but he knew it had stripped away pieces of her, while at the same time adding to the woman he’d known. She’d come home wild, scared, and—against all odds—determined to push past it all. He wanted to help her find her way, but he didn’t have a clue the right way to go about it.
Eric picked up the blanket and spread it on the grass. “What happened the other day at the cookout, when you hid in the trees—is it just crowds that frighten you?”
Georgia knelt and began pulling items from her bag. Fried chicken, potato salad, green beans, and biscuits. Still not saying a word, she withdrew two cans of beer and handed him one.
“Thanks.” He took it, sitting on the blanket across from her. “If there is something that scares you, I’d like to know. If I’d known that crowds made you feel like a target, I would have cancelled the picnic or moved it to another location. I want you to feel safe. Always. And I want to help you through this. Let me in, Georgia. Let me help you.”
GEORGIA SIGHED, SHAKING her head. The space between them felt thick, weighed down by his words. This wasn’t supposed to be a night of serious conversation. But Eric knew her. Better than most. If something touched a nerve, he noticed. And unlike most people, he didn’t look the other way.
She studied him, compiling her thoughts as if they were pieces to a puzzle. He leaned back on his elbow with his long legs stretched out before him. He’d changed out of his office slacks and into jeans when he got home and saw her gassing up the four-wheelers for their date. But he’d kept the crisp white button-down sleeves rolled up.
Part businessman, part rough lumberjack—it was a potent combination. She wanted to laugh and joke with him. Maybe kiss him. Not talk about what scared her or what kept her up at night, why she needed so much more out of every single day just to feel alive.