The Boss and His Cowgirl(32)
“I meant that as a compliment, sweet pea.” He murmured the words, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. “Don’t get bent out of shape. Yes, Giselle is beautiful in her way but when it comes down to what’s important? I’m picking you.”
“You are?”
“I am.” He turned her, his hands rubbing up and down her arms as he gazed at her. His expression was both bemused and sincere. “You’ve been here right under my nose and I’ve been too stupid to recognize what I had. Have. Because you’re here. I have you. And I want to keep you.”
“You do?”
Clay threw his head back and laughed. “For a woman who makes her living with words, you’ve become rather...reticent.”
“I have?”
He kissed her forehead, turned her toward the door and gave her a nudge. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a bit blown away by this turn of events, too.”
“You are?”
“You’re repeating yourself, sweet pea.”
Georgie planted her feet and twisted her head to look at him. “Clay, I need to be honest here.”
His eyes shuttered but he didn’t interrupt her.
“I’m...this...us...” She inhaled, held her breath and exhaled, but her hands still shook as she turned and reached out to touch his chest. “I’ve had a crush...”
“I know, Georgie.”
“You do?”
“Well, I know now. I guess Boone saw it all along. He was just waiting for me to pull my head out and realize what a treasure you are. Professionally, yes, I knew that, but I have the feeling that—” He snapped his jaw shut and his eyes cut away from her.
“What feeling, Clay?”
“You’re real, Georgie. And I find myself needing a whole lot of that—of you—in my life. Is this forever? I don’t know. We’ve just started this—” He gestured between them with his hand. “Whatever this is. I care about you. As a friend and now as something...more. I can’t make promises to you. Not yet. But damn if I don’t want to give this my best shot.”
Everything she’d wished for and then some was standing right here in front of her. All she had to do was acknowledge her feelings. She stretched up on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Me, too.”
Clay exhaled on a relieved laugh. “Can we go eat now?”
Feeling lighter and happier than she had in ages, she preceded him out the door. As they exited the security gate separating his yard from the sidewalk, Georgie looked up and recoiled, stumbling backward. Clay caught her in his arms and held her steady.
“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”
Ten
They’d been ambushed by Parker Grace. With a catty smile, the reporter drawled, “Fancy meeting the two of you coming out of the senator’s home the morning after you appear together at a state dinner. Lovely sweats you have on, Georgeanne, but then you’ve never been known for your fashion sense.”
Georgie needed to remember to be careful what she wished for. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Caught red-handed by the one woman who could create a maelstrom in the press and more problems for Clay’s upcoming presidential bid than Georgie could shake a stick at. Her mind spun like slick tires in a mud pit. She had no response, no story spin to give the nosy reporter to make this look like something other than it was. Before her brain could engage, Clay squeezed her arm.
“Reduced to skulking now, Parker?”
The woman glared at him, a portrait of righteous indignation. “No. I just happened to be walking past.”
Her excuse was flimsy and they all knew it. Georgie opened her mouth to explain away her presence, but Clay’s hand gripped her shoulder. “Well, I’ll make it easy for you, Parker. Georgie and I are headed to the Daily Grind for coffee and muffins. No, you aren’t invited to join us. But if you hurry, you might be able to get a cameraman over there to catch two colleagues sipping coffee and stuffing blueberry muffins into our mouths.”
Without waiting for a reply, Clay urged Georgie away, hand now on her back. At the end of the block, Georgie glanced over her shoulder. Parker, cell phone glued to her ear, stared after them.
“You shouldn’t encourage her.”
“Probably not.” Clay pulled her to a stop and gazed at her. She blinked up at him owlishly. “Where are your glasses?”
She shrugged and dug the toe of her boot into the sidewalk. “I didn’t have room for them in this.” She pulled out the ridiculously small beaded bag Jen had loaned her.
“Can you see anything?”