“It’s too late,” I whisper as an overwhelming sense of panic rises from my toes to my chest.
“It’s never too late, Cam. Run. Run now. I’ll make up some bullshit excuse for you.”
I look my brother squarely in the eyes.
“Run, Cameron. Run now while you still can.”
I turn my head, looking from my bride-to-be and her dad, who are rapidly approaching, and then to my brother, who’s pointing at the doorway behind us that the vicar came through a few minutes before.
I give my brother a quick nod and move to make my escape through the small arched exit, but my legs feel like lead weights. I actually grab my left thigh in both my hands and lift it, I do the same with my right, but it’s no good, not fast enough.
“I love you so much, Cameron. We’re going to be so happy together.” I can hear Chantelle calling from behind me.
I throw myself on the floor and attempt to crawl towards the door, but there are hands everywhere, grabbing at me.
“Come back, Cam! You promised.” I hear Chantelle’s voice above all of the others that are calling my name.
“Cam, baby, wake up.”
I sit up, nearly headbutting Georgia as I do.
“Jesus. Shit. Fuck,” I get out between gasps of air.
Georgia comes into focus, kneeling beside me and holding my right hand between both of hers. I drag the fingers of my left hand through my hair. Her eyes are wide and her mouth’s slightly open as she watches.
“You all right?” she asks quietly.
“I was dreaming.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I gathered that much, babe. Was it bad?”
I slide my hand from between hers and scratch my head whilst yawning. Georgia remains staring at where I just removed my hand from her hold.
Her head slowly rises, and her eyes meet mine. They’re still wide, but now, they’re also shining with unshed tears.
What the fuck is she getting upset for?
“Was it bad, your dream? A nightmare?”
She watches my throat as I swallow, and despite still feeling a little shaky and disoriented, my dick stirs to life when she licks her lips.
“C’mere.” I gesture with my head and hold out my arms. Now, it’s my turn to watch as her throat moves when she swallows. My erection not giving a shit about the inappropriateness of his appearance.
“Are you pissed off with me?” she asks quietly without making an attempt to move towards my open arms and waiting lap. Which doesn’t make me in the least bit happy.
“Why the fuck am I pissed off with you, Kitten?” My voice sounds croaky from sleep. I watch as she laces her fingers together and sets them on top of her knees, rolling her thumbs around and around each other.
Georgia looks nervous. Georgia doesn’t do nervous. I’ve no clue what could be going through that complicatedly beautiful mind of hers.
“My meltdown at lunch time. You’ve stayed up here all day. You’ve not even seen much of the kids.”
I feel like I’m living in a parallel universe. I must still be foggy from sleep because I feel like I’m missing something.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” My question comes out harsher than I intend, but I’m baffled.
“You were pissed off with me earlier when I had my meltdown of Georgia proportions. You carried me up here, and we must’ve fallen asleep. Harry came in and woke me up because he was starving. We promised the kids TGI’s tonight, remember? I woke you up, and you said you were coming, but you went back to sleep. I ended up taking them on my own.”
“Wha, wait, wait, wait. What time is it?”
“Just after twelve.”
“At night?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember saying that I was getting up.” She’s still kneeling next to me, looking all wide eyed and sorry for herself.
“Come the fuck over here, Kitten. I won’t tell you again.” She silently slides herself into my waiting lap, and her scent is all it takes to calm my racing heart. I kiss the top of her head.
“I thought I’d finally fucked things right up this time,” she says into my neck. I feel like a complete prick.
“The jetlag must’ve hit me and then kicked my arse. I’d never stand you and the kids up, babe. I’m surprised you would even think for a minute that I would.”
I move her legs to either side of my hips and pull her in close so I can look into her face.
“You really think I’d do that?” I ask her. She shrugs her shoulders and lets out a long breath.
“I thought I’d driven you to do that.” She blinks repeatedly, but it doesn’t keep her tears at bay. They hang from her dark lashes, and my gut twists at the thought of her feeling shitty the whole night.
“I’m so sorry about earlier, Cam. It was so unfair of me to behave like that. You’d just come home and I laid all that shit on ya.”
I don’t think I can remember a time when I’ve seen Georgia so emotional. Opening this bloody box has had a bigger impact on her emotions than I think even she was expecting.