Fix Her Up: A Novel
Fix Her Up: Chapter 24

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 couldn’t help it and he wished she would just rip it off and climb him, damn the dinner party. “What’s wrong?” She laid a tentative kiss on his chin. “Are you nervous?”

“No.” Travis turned his head and caught her mouth with a kiss. It was only meant to be a brief one, but her head fell back and he dove in, pressuring open her lips and rubbing their tongues together. “No, I’m just not sure what I was thinking. This plan. This . . . showing you off in order to get a job.” His thumbs stroked the hollows of her cheekbones. “I don’t like it. I didn’t think this far ahead.”

She was breathing with her eyes closed. “People do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Believe me, I know. That’s why it feels wrong with you.”

Those green eyes popped open. “I don’t understand.”

Travis searched for the right words. Ones that wouldn’t reveal this struggle he was having over tonight being the end. Georgie’s mouth distracted him, though, and all that would come out was the truth. “I don’t want you on display. I don’t want . . . us on display.”

The pulse in her neck visibly jumped. “Us?”

On the other side of the door, the limousine driver honked. Just a light tap, intended to let him know if they didn’t leave now, they wouldn’t make it on time. And thank God for that honk, right? He’d been about to tell Georgie he wanted their relationship to last beyond tonight. That he wanted it to be real. Wanted the right to kiss her, take her out, sit beside her at family dinners. Fuck her into the next stratosphere, take her jogging, show up when she performed at birthday parties, and, most importantly, tell other men to stay the hell away. Wanted the right to do it any time, any day of the week.

Ridiculous.

He didn’t know the first thing about being someone’s boyfriend. Jesus, though. “Boyfriend” sounded so much more accurate than “thing.” With her sweet body pressed up against him, possessiveness flowing in his blood, they were so far beyond a thing, he almost laughed. Almost. He was too unnerved by the ultimatum he was giving himself. He couldn’t just be her indefinite hookup—she deserved better than that. The prospect of letting her go made him feel submerged in quicksand, but she deserved someone who had a healthy outlook on commitment. Marriage. He was not that man. He would never, ever be that man.

Say good-bye tonight or ask Georgie for more. Those were his only two options.

“Travis?”

Taking one final sniff of her hair, he stepped away. “We should go.”

Georgie scrutinized him for a moment and nodded, letting him open the door so they could step onto the porch, before she turned and locked up. Despite reminding himself he and Georgie couldn’t be together, he found himself taking hold of her hand on the walk to the limo, cataloging her blush, her silent Oh God, oh God when she realized the neighbors were staring. A gust of summer wind blew a strand of hair across her mouth and he almost tripped off the sidewalk where it ended.

God, she was gorgeous.

Despite Travis’s inability to stop staring at her, there was a definite strain between them on the ride to Old Westbury. He continued to hold her hand nonetheless, as if letting it go would make time go faster. They remained silent, facing forward in the rear seat, humming down the Northern State Parkway for half an hour before Travis couldn’t take the distance anymore and dragged Georgie sideways onto his lap. She went without protest, tucking her head underneath his chin with a wince.

The weight of her in his lap caused his eyelids to droop. “What was that about?”

“I did lunges this morning. A whole lap around the high school track.”

“More Tough Mudder training?”

She nodded, bumping his chin. “We have thirty-one new members and they seem to have made me their unofficial leader. I have no idea why. But now I feel compelled to set an example.”

Travis’s hand slipped under her skirt and ran a thumb along the outside of her right thigh. He decided not to be offended that her reaction was more rapturous than it was during orgasms. “First of all, thirty-one new members?”

“Yes,” she moaned, shifting in his lap to give him better access to her sore muscles. “My sister-in-law led them to believe we were starting a manless utopia. You should all be seriously alarmed how many women showed up.”

He applied more pressure to the spot just above her knee, laughing quietly when she went boneless, moaning without shame. “Yeah? I better release a man memo.”

Her eyes sparkled up at him. They were almost enough to make him forget the growing bulge between his legs. Almost. “A man memo? Is that just cave drawings on a napkin?”

“It’s a foolproof code. You’ll never break it.” He slid the hem of her dress higher and began massaging the inside of her thigh. “I take that back. You’re pretty good at making me break codes, aren’t you?”

“I assume you’re talking about the best-friend’s-sister code,” she said breathily.

“The very one,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down the center of her black panties.

“Do you regret it?”

Travis’s throat felt tight. All of him did. “No.”

He’d never been in this place. Torn between aching to fuck and needing to talk. To just . . . hold her. Doing all of those things at the same time seemed like too much. Like they would rip him wide open. So he continued to run his hands over her roughly and breathed. Memorizing the smoothness of her thighs, the dip of her belly, the curve of her hip. He didn’t know how long the touching went on, but eventually Georgie straightened up and stilled his hands with her own. She brought their mouths together for a long, torturous kiss. A slow one. His cock grew thick and pressed up into her backside, but neither of them seemed inclined to give in to the hunger. There was a need inside Travis to prolong the night, to hold time at bay—and the kiss succeeded in doing that. It was wet and endless and left them both shaking by the time they arrived at the sweeping Tudor-style mansion.

Georgie pulled away first, breathing heavily against his lips. “I—I meant to go over everything with you. Who exactly I’m meeting . . . anything I should talk about—”

“We’re having dinner with Kelvin Fisher. His father used to run the network before he retired, and Kelvin has stepped in and started making changes. I’ve never met him. My agent is meeting us here and that windbag never shuts up, but he’s a good buffer.” His hand moved on its own, stroking her hair, her cheek. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Just be yourself.” Nothing could stop him from leaning in again and giving her some tongue, deepening the kiss until her ass started to flex in his lap. “Thanks for being here with me, Georgie.”

She nodded, her expression dazed as Travis lifted her off his lap. They both watched as he adjusted his hard dick and took some centering breaths.

“That’s not very family friendly.”

“No, it’s not,” Travis muttered. “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

The limo driver opened the door and extended a hand for Georgie to take. “Oh, but I am,” she threw over her shoulder with a wink. “Take your time.”

Travis shook his head and climbed out after Georgie. At the entrance to the sprawling residence, a man waited with hands clasped behind his back to guide them inside. Travis had been to some incredible homes in the last few years, some belonging to coaches and teammates, but he could say without reservation that this one took the cake. It wasn’t flashy or decked out with fish and flat screens. It was old money. Understated and tasteful.

Polished marble floors gleamed in the entryway, which spread into a foyer on one side, a wine cellar on the other. A staircase lay just beyond, curving around to the hidden second floor. It was huge and airy and lit by sconces. Low music drifted in, mingling with the sound of an unseen water fixture.

“Mr. Fisher is just showing your agent the grounds,” said the butler. “Please wait here and I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.”

The man left the room, leaving Georgie and Travis alone.

“Whoa,” Georgie whispered. “It’s like we stepped into an Italian piazza or something. Probably. I’ve never been to Italy.”

“Do you want to go to Italy?”

“Of course I do.” She turned in an awed circle, heels clicking on the floor, her lips parted. “Who doesn’t want to travel?”

Travis took a step closer to Georgie, unsure if he was going to kiss her again or demand to know everything she’d ever wanted in her life. To what end, he didn’t know. But she was beautiful in the muted light and blown away by this mansion. It made him highly aware of the fact that they’d gone out only on a couple of impromptu dates. Is that what she would remember about their time together? “Georgie—”

“Welcome.” Kelvin Fisher strode into the room the way a king might, but less aloof. His smile was hearty and genuine as he shook Travis’s hand. The head of the network was younger than Travis thought, midway through his thirties and radiating energy. “Travis Ford,” Kelvin said. “I’m a huge fan.”

Travis nodded. “Thank you.” He lifted an arm and Georgie slid under it like she belonged there. Fuck. It felt like she did. “This is Georgie Castle.” Travis stopped short of calling her his girlfriend and wished like hell he’d staked that claim when Kelvin kissed her hand, smiling over it while she blushed.

“I’ve seen you in the papers. Have to say we all enjoyed reading the reporter’s account of you swooping in to shut down that man in the bar. Well done.” He tilted his head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met a professional clown. Do you have any tricks up your sleeve for tonight?”

Georgie gave a ladylike shrug, taking her hand back so she could make a coin appear from behind Kelvin’s ear. “It’s not my best work, but you caught me on a night off.”

Kelvin’s laugh echoed off the many marble surfaces in the entry. Georgie grinned back.

Travis wished he’d kissed her one more time in the limo. “Let me guess. Donny is off somewhere taking an important call.”

“Sports agents,” Kelvin said, finally managing to drag his attention away from Georgie. “Can’t live with ’em . . .”

“Can’t sign a deal worth a damn without them,” Donny said, swaggering into the room in a cream-colored suit. “Let’s see if we can manage it tonight, huh, boys?”

Travis was forced to let go of Georgie to give Donny a back-slapping hug, but he really didn’t want to. As soon as it was over, he urged her back up against his side as they followed Kelvin through the living room to the terrace. “We’ll be dining alfresco tonight. I hope that’s okay,” Kelvin said, nodding to two women in aprons who immediately disappeared from sight. “I spent last summer on the Amalfi Coast and now I’m subjecting everyone in my life to Italian culture.”

“There are definitely worse things,” Georgie said, once again starry-eyed over their surroundings. And yeah, once again, Travis had to admit the atmosphere was pretty amazing. Evening was fading from the sky and candles were lit and flickering on every available surface. A low chandelier hung over an ornate antique table decorated with white and yellow flowers.

“Georgie,” Kelvin said smoothly, signaling yet another member of his staff. “Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Sure, I—”

A small female child burst out through the back door onto the patio, throwing herself at Kelvin’s legs. “Dada! I’m not tired.”

Obviously not expecting the intrusion, Kelvin twisted awkwardly, trying to see the girl wrapped around his legs. “You have to be tired. We rode bikes. Built a fort. Everything we did today was designed to make you tired.” He gave an awkward laugh. “We talked about this. I have a meeting tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’m all yours.”

“It’s cold in my room.”

“We can adjust the temperature.”

She peeked through his legs. “Who are they?”

Instead of answering, Kelvin turned to the woman pouring wine and communicated Help me with his eyes. The woman stopped what she was doing and rushed over, wrapping an arm around the little girl’s middle and attempting to lift her. Which of course made the child scream.

Kelvin massaged the center of his forehead and offered them an apologetic smile. “It wasn’t supposed to be my week, but something came up for my ex.” His smile dropped as his daughter started to wail in earnest. “Bedtime is always an adventure.”

Georgie moved away from Travis, skirting past the ornate table to kneel in front of the child. “Hi. I’m Georgie. What’s your name?”

The girl scrubbed at her eye with a chubby fist. “Madison.”

“Do you want to see something cool?”

No hesitation. “Yes.”

Travis watched spellbound as Georgie snagged three lemons from the centerpiece and started juggling them. “Okay, Madison. You have to help me. Clap your hands so I don’t drop them.”

The girl slid out from behind her father slowly, tears beginning to dry.

“I can’t keep it up . . . my arms are getting weak . . .”

Kelvin crouched down next to Madison and clapped, finally giving the girl the push she needed to join in. Within seconds, the little girl was laughing, her eyes wide as Georgie picked up speed.

Christ. Travis didn’t know what to make of the fiery sensation in his chest. It didn’t take a huge leap of imagination to paint Georgie, Kelvin, and the child as a family. One that loved each other so much, they couldn’t help but break into spontaneous acts of cuteness wherever they went. The dumbstruck way the other man was looking at Georgie made Travis want to knock him on his ass, even though he fully understood. Who wouldn’t look at her like she was a fucking angel? That’s exactly what she was in that moment. Every moment. A being sent straight from the clouds.

God, he was cold. Felt like a beggar watching a family eat Thanksgiving dinner through a picture window. It was all so wholesome. Exactly what Georgie deserved. Exactly what she wanted.

Exactly what he could never give her. Someone else would, though.

Travis was so focused on the chaos in his stomach, he didn’t notice Kelvin stand and make his way over. “Georgie is magnificent. You’re a lucky man.”

“Thank you,” Travis managed, some honesty slipping free without his permission. “I don’t know what the hell she’s doing with me.”

Kelvin chuckled, but his expression was thoughtful. “I didn’t believe my team when they suggested you’d changed, but part of my success comes from being a good judge of character. I don’t think a woman like her could be wrong about someone.” He paused. “Still, I can’t make an assessment on that alone. Why do you want this job, Travis?”

The last couple weeks came back to him in a rush of color and sound. Georgie was front and center of every memory. Throwing food at his head, tossing him baseballs in the middle of a rainstorm, sitting on her kitchen counter and telling him he was more than the sport. Somewhere along the line, he’d started to believe her, hadn’t he?

“If you’d asked me that a month ago, I’m not sure what I would have told you. The truth would have been that I wanted the job so I wouldn’t be a failure. I grew up surrounded by doubt and I didn’t want to fulfill it. When the league dropped me, I thought I’d earned that doubt. Become someone who deserved it.” He locked eyes with Georgie and her presence invaded him, rocked him full of confidence. “It’s different now. I want the job because I love baseball and I would work damn hard. I would never take the opportunity for granted. But whether you see fit to make me the voice of the Bombers or not, I’m not a failure. I wouldn’t fail you, either.”

The men stood in silence for long moments before Kelvin finally spoke. “I don’t think you will.” They shook hands. “Welcome to the Bombers, Travis Ford.”