Chapter Seventeen: New Day

Mac

NEW DAY

Performed by Robbie Seay Band

After dinner, I played Uno with my nephews like I promised but was pleasantly surprised when Georgie sat down with us. I was relieved when that game lasted a whopping thirty minutes before they were taken to bed, because, while I loved my nephews, they were exhausting.

I turned to Georgie, rubbing my hands together, and said, "Ready for the real game now?"

She chuckled, having no idea how deadly serious I, or my family, would be about the game. I led her into the dining room where Mom had the poker chips out, and everyone was focusing way too somberly on their Texas Hold ‘Em cards. We both bought into choruses of grumbling because we were joining late and would have more chips than those who had already been losing. I gave them all the stink eye.

"Be nice, we have a guest," Mom chided.

My family's obsession with their poker became increasingly obvious the more people lost their chips. Their faces closed down until they were almost mannequins. After calling on one particularly long hand, I looked at Georgie only to find her hiding a smile behind her cards. I leaned close to her ear, hid my lips behind my cards, and said, "If you keep smiling, they'll know your tells instantly, and you'll be out before you've even started."

She chuckled, and Bee called out, "No cheating!"

"Let him woo the girl in peace," Dad said, and Dani snorted.

"Woo? Really, Dad? What are you, Grandma now?"

"Just for that, Gooberpants, I'm taking all your chips." Dad waved his cards in her face before pulling all the chips in the middle toward him while Dani groaned.

The sucky thing about playing poker with your family was that they knew all your tells. You had to get really, really good at covering them up, or they would eat you alive. I tried to explain this to Georgie, but she just laughed her way through the game, losing her twenty dollars without a care in the world. But she stuck around to watch as Dad and I battled it out, even when many of the others made their way back to the kitchen for dessert.

Dad started in on the stories about my younger days in an attempt to rattle me.

"So, Georgie, did Mac tell you about the Mercedes incident?"

"Oh, that's a good one," Dani said, coming back in with chocolate cake and offering a plate to Georgie.

"Mac was, what, in the third grade?" Dad looked at me.

"Fifth, and you aren't getting away from this hand, Dad. I raise you five," I said, tossing more chips in the middle.

"He and this girl at school had decided they were a couple, ‘going together,' whatever the term was, and had arranged a date night, dinner and all. When I told him he was too young to date, he snuck into the garage, started up Clare's Mercedes, and ended up crashing it into the gates."

Georgie turned to me, eyes big, smile glowing, and I must have let my guard down, because Dad folded instead of calling.

"What did the girl think when you didn't show?" Georgie wanted to know.

I scratched my chin. "You know, I don't remember."

"Liar," Bee said, coming into the room with her own piece of chocolate cake. "He was devastated because she broke up with him, saying if he didn't know how to drive, she couldn't possibly continue to date him. He cried for a week."

Everyone laughed, and Georgie tried to hold back her own laughter but failed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't…but it's so sweet, and sad, and funny at the same time."

I stole her fork, taking a bite of her cake. She watched me eat it, and I lost my concentration again.

"Did you just steal my cake?" she asked.

"Oh my God, you can't leave anything sweet within ten feet of the man; it'll be gone in a flash," Gabi continued to torture me .

Georgie got up and returned shortly with a new piece of cake, and I was watching everything she did instead of paying attention to the game. Dad knew it as much as I did. For the first time in a really long time, my heart wasn't in the game. It was somewhere else. When I lost my final chips to him, my sisters all groaned.

"It's your fault," I said, waving at them. "You were distracting me with your stories."

"Yeah, it was us that was distracting you, um-hmm," Bee said with a pointed glance at Georgie who was talking to Dani.

"Someday, Robbie. Someday, you'll be able to beat the master." Gabi patted me on the shoulder.

"Never," Dad hissed playfully.

"Don't let Grandma hear you call Dad the master," I retorted.

There were mumbled agreements because we all knew Grandma was the real poker queen. Everyone slowly started meandering away to bed with yawns and talk of tennis. I walked with Georgie to the Blue Room and stopped her before she could go in.

"I'm really glad you came," I told her.

"I am, too."

"But don't believe everything they tell you."

"Why? It's sort of romantic that you tried to take your ten-year-old girlfriend on a drive."

I groaned, and she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. My hand snaked out to stop her from moving away when she would have, the laughter from before disappearing as longing welled up inside me.

She pushed gently against my chest, and I let her go.

"Goodnight, Mac-Macauley," she said quietly.

"See you first thing in the morning for tennis camp, Georgie-Girl."

She nodded and slipped inside the room, closing the door before I could change my mind, or her mind, about where we were sleeping.

I knew it was a good thing. We weren't there yet. We weren't at the part where I could lie down next to her and make her forget what was said about me and just believe what my hands and heart told her.

? ? ?

The next morning, I was at her door at seven because the court was going to be taken up for the Whittaker Family Tournament as of ten. I knocked on her door lightly. I didn't want either Dani or Bee, whose rooms were just down the hall, to hear.

No answer.

I knocked again.

Still no answer.

I tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. I turned, looking both ways, and then entered. I certainly didn't mind being in a bedroom with Georgie, but I knew what I'd promised her about this weekend. And I knew just how much my family would never let either of us hear the end of it if someone saw us coming from each other's rooms.

The wooden shutters on the windows cut off almost every lick of light, even though the sun was already up, making it hard to see into the depths of the bedroom. I moved closer and caught my breath.

Georgie was curled on her side, one arm around a pillow, shoulder bare, hair flung out behind her on the white pillowcase, eyes closed. The bedding had slipped off, and her long legs were also bare. From the angle I was at, with the pillow hugged to her middle, she looked like she wasn't wearing anything.

My entire body reacted to that, my tennis shorts not hiding any of it.

I ached to climb in with her. To tuck that long-limbed body up against mine. And that did nothing for the hard-on I had. I tried to think of anything but the gorgeous creature lying in the bed.

I looked at the ceiling and the cupids that were making their way across it. Thought of Mom having them painted when I was a teen and how I had remarked that the ceiling didn't match the room. Thoughts of Mom helped. I slowly drew a breath and said quietly, "Georgie."

She screamed, throwing the pillow at me, hitting me in the face because I was too surprised to catch it.

"What the hell?" she said when she realized it was me.

And I was right back to having to think about the ceiling and the cupids, because she was wearing clothes, but not much. She had on a silk camisole with the strap sliding off her shoulder and the neckline hanging low enough that I could almost see the full curve of her breast and dark nipples. Below the top was a pair of silk pajama shorts that barely fit the curves of her. She was goddamn breathtaking .

"Tennis," I croaked out.

"Now?" She hadn't moved, but her breathing was fast, making the neckline dip farther.

"I told you early," I said with eyes back at the ceiling.

"Early isn't before the crack of dawn."

I went to the shutters and pulled them open a little so the sunlight started to peek in.

"It's seven," I told her.

"We barely went to bed at one."

I came back to the bed, which was a mistake because she was still showing me all her contours, and I was still having a hard time controlling my dick's reaction to it. I went to the door.

"You're acting weird," she said.

I waved at her. "You're practically naked."

She looked down at herself and then crossed her arms over her chest, which just pushed her cleavage up in a way that made me want to kiss it more.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to learn tennis at seven in the morning," she said.

"I promise you coffee and a homemade blueberry muffin first."

"You made muffins?"

I smiled. "No, I'm an awful baker, but Mom makes the best. Plenty of sugar-coated goodness on the top."

Her smile filled the room more than the sunlight. "Sugar."

I shrugged, knowing she was making fun of my sweet tooth and not caring .

"I'll meet you downstairs. But hurry, the court won't be available for long. Some of the others will want to warm up before the tournament begins."

Georgie snorted, but she didn't understand the driven nature of my family. If she'd thought poker last night was competitive, she was in for a real surprise over how cutthroat it got over tennis.

She stood up, and I had to combat my desire to close the distance and wrap myself around her. Instead, I opened the door without thinking and ran right into Bee.

"Morning, Robbie," she said with a smile.

"It isn't what you think," I said automatically.

She snorted. "Of course, it's not. You aren't coming out of the guest room after a night spent with Gorgeous-Georgie."

"We didn't—She isn't—Never mind." I gave up because anything I said would have just dug me in further with any of my sisters.

By the time Georgie came down, I had two cups of coffee sitting on the counter in travel mugs and two muffins I'd heated up. She went directly for the coffee.

She was in a pair of white shorts with buttons on both sides of her hips―like sailor pants of old—and they were tantalizing me to undo them. The shorts weren't much longer than her pajama had been, but they covered her butt, which at least helped my body's reaction, if only slightly. She had a red, white, and blue striped top on, and it made me think of Fourth of July, and the fireworks, and how she'd said she loved America .

She looked like America. Freedom and independence. Elegance and charm. At least, the America that I wanted for our world―that I wanted for my niece and nephews. Her hair was up in a ponytail, the way she wore it the most, but I liked how it showed off the graceful lines of her face with her high cheekbones and slender nose.

"Thank God for coffee," she said.

"We don't have much time. I reserved us until eight, but Bee and Thomas are after us, and they won't give us thirty seconds of extra time."

"Wow. First poker, and now tennis. This family does take its games seriously."

"You haven't even seen the worst of it yet."

After we finished the muffins, I led her out toward the court. It was hidden from the pool and patio area by trees and shrubs. I had never thought much of it growing up—having a tennis court in my backyard—but I realized, now, that it made a statement about us―about me. And I wasn't sure if Georgie would see the lifestyle of my family as a good thing or a bad thing.

I already had my custom racket in my hand. Even my nephews and little Savanna-Rae had their own, custom-made ones. We had a shed full of all our old castoffs that were for guests, and I helped Georgie pick out one from those.

Tennis was not only a big deal for my family; it was a big deal for the country club I'd grown up at. Competition was high, but our family had been one of the top three finishers every year going back to when Granddad was a teenager. We had a title and a streak to hold on to, so if you weren't good enough today, you would be cut with no qualms from anyone. No pouting to Mom or Dad would ever get you back in. No crying to the grandparents would help.

My time on the court this morning with Georgie was just for fun. I was planning on warming up a little while I showed her the basics before I got serious. There was no way I was letting Gooberpants win this year.

I explained the rules, what the lines were for, where she should serve, and the scoring process. Then, I served the ball into her court gently. She went to hit the ball, and the racket flew out of her hand. She turned as red as the stripes on her top , and it made me smile.

"It's okay. It happens."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

"Premature…racket…happens to him all the time," Thomas said from the sidelines. I hadn't heard him come into the court, but then again, I hadn't shut the door, either.

Georgie turned an even deeper shade of red, and that pissed me off. That he'd embarrassed her.

"We have the court until eight, Thomas," I told him with a glare.

"We know," Bee said, coming in and joining him. "Just wanted to watch you warm up, see where your latest weak points are."

"Honestly, Mac, let them play. Or warm up with them, because tennis and I aren't really going to happen."

"No. It's our court time."

"Don't be an ass, Robbie," Thomas said .

Thomas was never my favorite person, and calling me an ass when they were encroaching on my court time wasn't going to win him any points with me. I looked over at Bee, trying to tell her with my eyes what I was going to do with her husband if he didn't get off my court.

"Since when do you think you have a chance at a spot on the team, Thomas?" I asked with plenty of sarcasm.

Bee bristled. "We've been playing a lot this year. Wait till you see his serve."

"I'll see it after eight," I told Bee.

She rolled her eyes and dragged Thomas from the court. I made my way over to Georgie. "Don't worry about them."

"I see why you don't like him," she whispered to me, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yep," I told her. "Here, let me show you how to hold it."

I wrapped my arms around her, grabbing her wrist that held the racket, and then swinging it with her. Having her body tucked up against mine was not any better than seeing her in the bed in the Blue Room. My hand tightened on hers, and I couldn't stop myself from placing a soft kiss on her jawline. She didn't stop me. I slowly kissed my way down until I reached the corner of her lips, and she turned ever so slightly as if she was going to meet my hungry mouth with her own. As if we'd finally be able to recreate the moment on my boat in July.

"Holy bejesus, Robbie. You just left her bedroom. We really need the court for practice; you two can do that anywhere," Bee hollered from the doorway to the courts.

Georgie pulled away, and I flipped Bee the bird. She just laughed, picked up the towel she'd left by the sidelines, and left again.

Georgie turned to me. "Really. I think…maybe this would be better another time."

"I told her it wasn't what she thought—me coming from your room. But older sisters never, ever believe you." I sighed.

She smiled. "It's okay."

"It is?" My eyes lit up at the thought of it being okay for me to be coming from her room.

"I didn't mean that as an invitation. I just meant I get it. But really, all I want to do is go finish my coffee, have another muffin, and break out my textbooks."

"I'll hardly get to visit with you again until dinner," I told her.

"Perfect time for me to catch up on my classwork, then."

I left the court reluctantly, not wanting to let her out of my sight yet, wondering if this had been the right weekend to invite her home at all. It was going to be tournaments all day today and then all day tomorrow. It wasn't exactly the best time for her to get to know me.

Bee saw us leaving the court and raced toward it just as Gabi and Dani headed toward it. My three sisters collided at the doorway, but Bee had her foot inside. "Dibs!" she called out in celebration.

"Ugh! You cheat," Gabi threw out .

"You're getting slow in your old age, Cheetos Breath," Bee teased.

"Don't even start, Granola Fart," Gabi retorted.

"Wow," Georgie whispered, but she had a smile on her lips.

"You're giving Georgie the complete wrong impression of our family," I hollered back at them.

"Don't start, Squirter," Dani tossed at me.

"Gooberpants, really, you had to go there?" I sighed and dragged Georgie away before it really got ugly.

"Do I even want to know?" she asked.

"You probably don't." I smiled at her as we made our way back inside. Mom was in the kitchen in her own tennis outfit, ready to go to battle on the courts.

"Didn't you have the court until eight?" she asked with a glance at the whiteboard leaned up against some of the kitchen cupboards.

"They started throwing names and euphemisms, and I called my training complete," Georgie told her, sitting at the counter.

"Starting early, are they? Did they call Robbie Squirter already?" Mom was smiling, and I groaned.

"Yes."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Mom!"

"When he was about twelve, he finally got serious about tennis and the tournament. He was so determined to win that he wouldn't leave the court even when he had diar―" I moved and covered her mouth .

"Mom."

"Your dad told the Mercedes story last night. Why can't I tell the Squirter story?" she asked as she pushed my hand away.

I knew I was probably the same shade of red that Georgie had been on the court.

Georgie was laughing—her laugh that always reached into my soul and grabbed my heart.

Mom patted me on the shoulder and went out into the backyard, probably to find a way to weasel in on someone else's practice time.

"I really like your family," Georgie said as I sat down next to her at the table.

"Yeah?"

"They're pretty amazing."

"Lunatics. All of them."

"But the love you all have for each other shows through."

I nodded. We did love each other. And we'd do anything for each other—even asshole Thomas. "You've heard some pretty scary things about me now. I feel like you need to tell me some things about you to even the field."

"Raisa said I didn't want you to find out about my awkward stage," she said, lips quirking.

"There is no way in hell I'll believe you ever had an awkward stage," I told her.

"Well, she said it was when I had my hair cut like a boy."

"You did?"

She laughed. "Yes, but you met me that way. "

I thought back to the first time I'd met her in New York City. Her hair had been almost shaved on the sides with spikes and curls on the top and a purple tint that had matched her lilac contact lenses. She had the blue ones in again today.

"That wasn't a boy haircut."

"Raisa believes that if your hair isn't past your shoulders, it's a boy haircut."

I cast my eyes at her hair, the almost black strands pulled up into another ponytail, the white streak barely showing.

"You hardly ever wear your hair down," I said.

She ran her hand over the ponytail. "It's just easier up."

I didn't want to tell her about the dreams I'd had of taking it down. Of running my fingers through her hair and tugging it so she had to come closer to me and my lips. I cleared my throat.

"That's not enough beans, Miss Astrella. I need the good dirt. Like diarrhea kind of dirt."

She showed me her muffin. "Please, I'm eating."

"Eating isn't getting you out of this one. I need at least one thing to hold over you, as you've got about twenty on me now." I leaned closer to her, elbows touching, faces inches apart.

She sat there, thinking. She finally blew out a breath, and I could feel it over my skin and could almost taste the blueberries on my lips.

"I wet the bed until I was nine," she said quietly.

My eyes widened, because I hadn't expected her to disclose something that personal. And yet, she had. A dark secret that not many people would have shared unless they were being tortured to do so. My heart twisted with happiness that she had felt comfortable enough to tell me something so deeply private. To open herself up to me in a way she hadn't before.

I couldn't help myself anymore. I closed the tiny distance between us and kissed her. Soft. Trying to convey the emotion behind the kiss as much as the desire. To explain with my lips because the words were eluding me. At first, she didn't respond, but then her mouth pressed into mine. And it was just like when I'd kissed her in Rockport. Passion. Torrential seas. Waves of emotion that felt like they were pulling me under just as she saved me by bringing me back to the surface. My hand went to the back of her neck, and I was two seconds from pulling her onto my lap when a throat clearing stopped me.

I was still smiling as I pulled away from her and turned to see my grandmother standing in the kitchen archway. "Grandma!"

I was up out of the chair and hugging her in a flash.

"Mom said you've been sick?" I asked, eyeing her.

"Everyone worries too much. It was just a summer cold, but it's enough to put me on the sidelines today," she told me, hugging me tightly and then turning to the table and Georgie. "So, this is Georgia."

Georgie got up from the table and came over to shake her hand, but Grandma pulled her into a hug, saying, "We are so glad to finally have someone to tell Robbie stories to."

Georgie laughed as she hugged my grandmother back before stepping away. "I've already heard the diarrhea story this morning. "

"Ooh, that is a doozy. How about the car stealing?"

"Heard that last night."

"Well, unless you are a world-class tennis pro, you can sit with me today, and I'm sure I'll be able to come up with some ones you haven't heard."

And I gave up. There wasn't going to be any more time for me to kiss Georgie or tell her how beautiful she was. Not until this clan had gotten out all their stories and thoroughly embarrassed me. I was okay with it, though. If she knew all these things about me and could still kiss me like she just had, everything was going to be okay.