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“That’s great news,” I told him. It was better than great news. Every time I thought about riding again, I felt a surge of adrenaline. Being able to rev up my bike and actually take off, as opposed to just starting it up to run some juice through it had been on the top of my priorities list. A priorities list that had recently changed. A part of me was reluctant to bust through the door at home and tell Georgia the great news.

The past few days had been so good between us. We were happy. Things were easy. I knew that once she knew I was going to be going back to Texas, we’d have to have the long-distance-relationship talk. I didn’t know if I was ready for that pressure to be on either of us yet. I had no doubts that my feelings for her were real. I was willing to do whatever I had to do to make it work between us. I just hoped that she felt the same.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re back on the track,” Will teased as he signed off on the papers in the folder. “Don’t forget who whipped your broken ass back into shape.”

“I won’t,” I assured him with a laugh. I didn’t want to tell him that he wasn’t the only one who’d whipped me into shape. Georgia was as instrumental in my recovery as Will was. She made me want to take better care of myself. She made me want to be a better person. She made me want to be a guy worthy of having her. Will might have helped strengthen my knee, but Georgia was responsible for fixing my heart and soul.

* * *

After physical therapy, I had plenty of time to plan my night with Georgia. She had class until four and I knew she’d be ready to relax when she was finished. I’d invited her over to the cabin for dinner. Reid and Nora were on their way back to Texas. Not that I minded staying at Georgia’s house, but this place was perfect for a romantic evening in. I’d light a fire, pour some wine, maybe get her naked in front of the aforementioned fire. I had big plans for us.

Not only was I planning our night’s activities, I’d also offered to cook. I’m not sure why, considering that I had no idea how to. I wasn’t even sure I knew how to boil water, but cooking her a meal seemed like something a good boyfriend would do. Which was exactly what I wanted to be. Especially, considering that I was only a week or two away from my doctor’s release. I needed to show her that I was the kind of guy that could make a long-distance relationship work.

As I pushed my cart through the grocery store, I started to realize that I was in way over my head. I’d tossed some chicken in the cart and was wandering around the produce section while I scrolled through a recipe site I’d pulled up on my phone. The recipes might as well of been in a foreign language. How the hell was I supposed to know what blanch or brine meant?

“Excuse me,” a voice called out, giving me a good reason to slip my phone back in my pocket. Georgia had said she was good with pizza once before. I’d put the items in my cart back and pick up Carlino’s on the way home. When I looked up, I saw Iris Shaw standing in front of me dressed in a starched white shirt with a floral scarf around her neck. She seemed very well put together compared to me. I was still wearing my workout clothes and a backwards ball cap. Our carts were nearly touching in front of a display of potatoes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I hope I didn’t run into you.” This woman already didn’t like me. I wasn’t doing a very good job of improving the impression she had of me. I’m sure I looked like an idiot.

“You didn’t,” she assured me. “You were very into whatever you had on that screen.”

“I was looking up—” I paused. I’d already given up on trying to cook dinner. “It’s doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if I was blocking your way.”

“You’re Brett, right?” she asked. “I don’t think we were properly introduced last time.” She extended her hand, and shocked the shit out of me when she smiled. “I’m Iris Shaw.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, placing my hand in hers. “I’m Brett Sallinger.”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted that day we met,” she said as I shook her hand. “I wanted to let you know that it had nothing to do with you. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to see Georgia with someone else.”

“It’s okay,” I said, releasing her hand. “I understand.” I smiled politely.

“You know,” she said, “I can understand why Georgia likes you. You’ve got a sweet smile.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And good manners.”

“I try. I was raised in the South. My mama didn’t give me any other option than to be polite.”

“She did right by you then.” She laughed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my behavior that day. It was wrong of me to react the way I did. I trust Georgia’s judgment,” she paused. I could see the nostalgia in her eyes. The thoughts of her son with Georgia. “I hope you know how lucky you are to have her in your life.”

“I do.” I’m not sure why, but having Iris Shaw be nice to me was doing something for my morale. This woman didn’t know me from Adam and she surely didn’t owe me anything, but having her give me her blessing when it came to Georgia was beyond reassuring. I knew how much Georgia loved Jamie’s family and how much she worried about them not being disappointed in her decisions, even if they were her own.

“For what it’s worth.” I paused, I wanted Iris to know that I did respect her son’s memory. “I know I didn’t know Jamie, but from what I’ve learned he was a real stand-up guy. I haven’t met a person from this town that doesn’t have great things to say about him. And I really admire him for serving our country, the military and its servicemen are something I have always respected,” I paused when I saw her eyes get a little misty. She smiled and nodded, telling me it was okay for me to continue. “I’d say you did right by him too.”

“Thank you for your kind words.” She started to push her cart past me, but stopped to place her hand on my arm. “Treat her right.”

“I will,” I promised. We held each other’s gaze for a moment, a thousand unspoken words passing between us. This was her blessing. This was her accepting that her son’s fiancée was moving on. This was me telling her that I’d take care of the girl who used to be his.

“Okay,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re about done with blubbering woman in the grocery store. I’ll leave you be.”

“Ma’am,” I said, before she wheeled away. “Can I ask you for a favor?” She turned back to face me. “Any chance you can tell me what the heck I’m supposed to do with this chicken?”

I could not wait to get home. The drive back from class that day seemed to take twice as long as usual. The fields were bare and the trees had almost lost all of their leaves. It was a bleak landscape and quite boring for driving. Brett had texted me that he was cooking me dinner. I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but I was starving. I’d texted him that I was on my way and as I drove down the two-lane highway that connected my hometown with the college town, I felt completely at peace.

No stress. No worries. Nothing. Just contentment. I was a go with the flow girl now. Or at least I was trying to be. Brett had helped me see that living in the moment had its perks. Without the stress of planning every single thing I did down to the minute, I had much more time to appreciate the things—and the people—that were right in front of me. We’d spent a fair amount of time with my sister and Reid while they were home. The four of us laughed and talked for hours over beer and take-out.

Moreover, I was thoroughly enjoying my time with Brett. Each kiss. Each touch. Each night that we spent wrapped up in each other’s arms. Not to mention, the hours that we’d spent talking about everything under the sun. I’d thought I had a pretty good understanding of who he was as a person, but as he described his childhood and family to me, I could grasp his wild and carefree side a little better.