Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2) (3 page)

“Didn’t know you were back in town. Why didn’t you call me?” she breathed as her hand trailed down to my ass and gave a squeeze. I rolled my eyes before I turned and plastered a smile on my face.
 

“Hey, what’s up?” I took her in. Briana, I think it was. Tight jeans, heels, bright red sweater that covered her sizable tits, but still managed to be indecent.
 

“You been here long?” she murmured in my ear as her hand smoothed down the front of my jeans and brushed against my cock. For a split second, I thought about taking her home. My body and mind raged. I wanted to fuck Georgia out of my system. Sink balls-deep into this girl and fuck away the pain. But the thought of being with anyone other than Georgia had my stomach twisting painfully.
 

“Few weeks,” I said before removing her hand from my junk.

“Let’s get together. You still have my number, right?” She caressed my arm suggestively.
 

“Yeah, I have it.” That was a lie. I’d cleared all numbers out of my phone that weren’t Georgia’s one night on the boat when I was drunk and bitter. “I’ll call you.” I turned back to the cart, trying to blow her off.
 

“Are you busy tonight? I have plans, but I could be persuaded into canceling them.” She brushed her tits against my arm. My dick was still stirring to life. He was all in. My fucking head wasn’t, though. I was getting pissed. I was so sick of girls that refused to take a hint.
 

“Got things to do. Sorry.” I pushed the cart down the aisle and headed for the liquor. Tonight was going to be a scotch kind of night.
 

“Maybe tomorrow, then?” She trailed after me.
 

“Maybe. I’ll call you.” I continued to walk.
 

“Okay, Tristan. Good to see you.” She cupped my ass and her fingers wrapped around to my balls from behind. I sucked in a quick breath as all the blood rushed to my dick. My head refused to think straight.
 

Fuck.
 

I ground my teeth together.
 

All I wanted was Georgia.
 

Could I fuck someone else? Did I want to? I’d tried that all summer and it hadn’t worked for shit. Except now, Georgia wasn’t here to pull me back in. I wouldn’t have to wake up the next morning, the smell of sweaty sex on me from some other chick, and look into her pained eyes. My dick pounded in my jeans as I scrubbed my palm over my face.
 

“See you later,” I grumbled, pushing the cart with a little more force than necessary. I bee-lined for the scotch, grabbed the most expensive bottle they had, and then hit the checkout lane.
 

Close fucking call. It was a good thing I didn’t have the girl's number because it was possible I’d be tempted to cave some night when I was drunk and angry as fuck with Georgia. Thankfully, at this moment, I’d had the foresight to see I’d only wake up with a sick sense of regret in the morning. I headed back out to my truck and prayed I wouldn’t run into her again.

That week, I finally got back into my routine. I felt semi-settled—my couch, my chair, my TV—I felt like I was getting back to a new normal. I'd hired a contractor to come in and fix up the place, including a new roof. The quaint three-bedroom was small, but I could see the potential. The wide-open space of the kitchen, living, and dining areas made it feel more spacious, and the wraparound deck off the back looked out over the ocean.
 

Every morning, I woke up just as dawn hit the horizon and went for my morning run with Charlie. He was old, so he dragged ass, but it was good for him to get some exercise. If I let him, he’d lie like a pile of bones on the leather couch all day. He always took his time getting out of the house in the morning, but after a few minutes, we hit a rhythm and he trailed behind me happily.
 

Despite the fact that we were into late fall and I’d been at the cottage for more than a month now, the days could still have a humid stickiness to them. On those mornings, Charlie and I ran the first half of our morning jog and walked the way back. The dog was odd and had a favorite stick that he kept outside the front door. He chewed on it for a few weeks until it was down to nothing before he’d find another. So it was that morning he’d chosen a new stick and I was tossing it down the beach for him. We were on the way back from our run and he was galloping into the waves, trying to bite at them with his teeth, before I threw the stick and he paddled out to get it. He came bounding back to me, dropped the stick at my feet, and gave a shake
every single fucking time.
Wet dog stink in the morning. Nothing better. I grinned and gave his ears a scratch before throwing the stick back into the water for him. We walked down the beach until my dock and Georgia’s beach house came into view. I bit my bottom lip painfully, trying to redirect the pain that sliced into my gut at the sight of her house. I saw the little sand dune where we’d sat and read
Tristan and Iseult
.
 

Charlie came bounding up to me, dropped the stick, did his shake, and the cool water hitting me brought me out of my thoughts.
 

“Hey, old man, still got it, don’t ya?” I gave him a pat and tossed the stick again, my thoughts returning instantly to Georgia. It’d been over a week since I’d run into Briana at the store and I was thankful I’d turned her down. I was also thankful that I didn’t have her number, because I’d gotten so pissed drunk later that night on scotch I probably would have fucked anything on two legs if given the opportunity. In hindsight, scotch had been a bad choice. I was also thankful she didn’t know where I lived; I had no doubt she’d be tapping on my door all hours of the night, looking for a fuck if she did. Another Sophie all over again. Christ, was my radar off? Why was I landing in bed with the psycho ones lately?

“Come on, Charlie. Let’s head in.” I patted my leg and the old dog wagged his tail and then led the way up the dock to the porch of the cottage. I felt a twisting in my stomach, just like I always did when I passed the spot where Georgia and I had had sex for the first time. I kept walking and tried not to go down that road all over again.
 

The following Saturday afternoon, Charlie and I pulled into the marina, ending what might be our last day on the boat for the season. I locked up the boat before making arrangements with the marina to put it up for the winter. Charlie leaped up into the front seat of the Jeep and I started to make my way back to the cottage before I remembered Charlie needed dog food. I turned the car around and headed for the small pet store in town.
 

“No humping this time.” I pointed a finger at him as we pulled into the parking lot. His tail wagged back and forth as he looked up at me with big, round eyes. “Don’t do it, old man. I know you still got it, but you don’t have to prove it to every pretty little thing on four legs.” He gave a short bark and I smiled. “Come on.” I ruffled his ears and then moved aside so he could jump out the driver's side door. I belatedly realized I hadn’t put his leash on him, but he was pretty good at sticking by my side and the parking lot was nearly empty this late in the off-season anyway.
 

Charlie trotted around some cars and out of sight. I rolled my eyes and followed him around the back end of a car.
 

“Charlie!” I rounded the bumper. “Charlie, come on.” I slapped my thigh to get his attention.
 

“Tristan,” a soft voice carried on the wind. I lifted my eyes from his wagging tail and saw a dark mane of chestnut hair cascading around his big dog head and gorgeous brown eyes that had been keeping me awake at night peering back at me.
 

“Georgia?” Was I seeing things? Was she really here, stooped over in a parking lot, petting my dog? The girl who’d consumed my thoughts the past three fucking months. Had I wished her into existence? Was I going insane? “What are you doing here?” I asked, my mind a whirlwind of emotion—confusion, anger, and pain the most prominent three.
 

“I came back,” was her simple answer. What did she mean she
came back
? Was she here to stay? Was there a problem? Had Kyle done something to her and she was running? I knew I didn’t trust the guy the moment I’d laid eyes on him. The way he acted around her—as if he owned her, talked down to her—made my stomach crawl.
 

“To the beach house? When?” I squatted and patted Charlie as I spoke.
 

“Beginning of November.”
 

My mind computed the time.
 

Over a month?
 

She’d been right under my nose for over a month and I hadn’t noticed?
 

I searched my memory for a sign she’d been at the beach house, something I'd missed, but I found none. Maybe I hadn't been paying attention. Maybe I'd been walking around in a drunken stupor too much of the time to see the girl I wanted so desperately right next door.
 

Anger boiled in my stomach.
 

She'd left me.
 

She'd lied and said she'd be back, then she hadn't even picked up her phone. I was so bitter, so angry that this girl who'd consumed me all fucking summer was back. I wanted to hold onto the anger—she'd proven why I'd hit the road at any sign of commitment in the past; women had the ability to suck you in, like a siren call, and then walk away without another glance back. I'd learned that lesson the instant my mom had left and my dad had spiraled into his dark place.
 

What pissed me off even more than seeing her standing in front of me, looking so beautiful and serene, was a sliver of hope in my heart that we could be
us
again. I wanted her but I didn't
want
to want her. I wanted to hold onto the anger and pain and blame her, because being numb was easier than opening up.
 

“You’ve been here for more than a month?” I asked numbly.
 

“Yeah. I’ve been fixing up the place for winter.”

“You’re staying? Permanently? What about Kyle? Is he here?” I took a quick glance around the parking lot. I was as good as gone if he was here. I was sure I’d sock him in the jaw if I ever saw his face again, just for the mere fact that she’d chosen him, been sharing his bed since August.
 

“I’m staying, hopefully forever. I don’t think anything could pull me away from here, not anymore. And Kyle isn’t with me.” She frowned before she finished. “We’re, not really . . . together.”

What? Suddenly rage boiled inside me. Why hadn’t she called me? I’d come to terms that she’d chosen Kyle in August, but she was back; she’d left him. So why hadn’t she called?

Because she doesn’t want you. Just because she finally walked away from him, doesn’t mean she’s choosing you. What could you give her? Heartache? A tainted past? She deserves so much better.
 

She did. I knew it.
 

I stayed silent as the pain radiated through my body.
 

“What about you? Why are you here? And whose dog is this? Oh God, are you with Briana or Kelsey or whoever?” I watched her eyes take in the parking lot, looking for someone.