What I Did for Love (Wynette, Texas #5)(71)

“You’re weird,” he said to Georgie. “Chaz is right.”

“I know. I appreciate the two of you putting up with me.”

Feeling as though she’d done something good, she left them alone.





Chapter 16




Georgie locked herself in Bram’s bathroom and soaked in his tub. She and Chaz had both been betrayed by men—Chaz, much more horribly, on the streets; Georgie on a boat in the middle of Lake Michigan, and later by the husband she’d promised to love forever. Now they were each trying to figure out how to move on. She wondered if Chaz would have told her heart-wrenching story if the camera hadn’t been there? This is important,” Chaz had said when Georgie tried to stop filming. “Make it important.”

Did the camera simply record reality or did it alter it? Could it change the future? Georgie wondered if having her story documented might help Chaz begin putting her past behind her so she could live a fuller life. Wouldn’t that be amazing? And wouldn’t it be even more amazing if recording Chaz’s story helped Georgie put her own life in perspective.

She sank deeper into the water and considered the only part of Chaz’s story that had truly shocked her. Bram’s role. He’d been Georgie’s destroyer, but he’d been Chaz’s rescuer. She kept learning new things about him, and none of it fit with what she thought she already knew. He proudly proclaimed that he cared about no one but himself, but that wasn’t entirely true.

She washed her hair and blew it dry so that it fell straight and shiny around her fuller face. She applied smoky eye makeup and one of her many nude lipsticks, then dressed in cayenne red stretch chinos and a shiny gray cami accompanied by silver ballet flats. With the addition of a pair of abstract silver earrings, she was done.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found Bram pacing the foyer in white pants and shirt. “I thought you were wearing jeans,” she said.

“I changed my mind.”

He took her in, doing his eye-smolder thing, which made her nervous. “You look like Robert Redford in Gatsby,” she said. “Except hunkier. A statement of fact, not a compliment, so no need to thank me.”

“I won’t.” He kept smoldering her, his gaze moving from her silver ballet flats, up over her legs and hips, lingering on her breasts, and ending up at her face. “You look pretty good yourself. Those big green eyes…”

“Bug eyes.”

His smoldering gave way to exasperation. “You don’t have bug eyes, and you should have gotten over your insecurities a long time ago.”

“I’m a realist. Moon face, bug eyes, and rubber mouth, but I’m starting to like my body again, and I’m not getting implants.”

He sighed. “Nobody wants you to get implants, especially me. You don’t have a moon face. And when are you going to stop trying to camouflage your mouth and splash it with some red lipstick? I happen to have an intimate acquaintance with that mouth, and I’m here to tell you it’s spectacular.” He slid the palm of his hand along her hip. “A statement of fact, not a compliment.”

This was getting way too hot for her, so she broke the mood with a friendly suggestion. “If you want Rory to think you’re reformed, maybe you should lay off the booze.”

“Iced tea.”

“Yeah, right.”

She headed for the kitchen to check up on Chaz. Cobalt pottery bowls with red pepper chunks, figs and mangoes, curls of sweet onion, and wedges of fresh pineapple covered the counter. “Make sure you turn the chicken on the grill after four minutes,” Chaz told Aaron, who was arranging glasses on a tray. “No more. Understand?”

“I understood the first two times you told me.”

“Those rosemary sprigs go on top of the beef while it’s cooking.” Ignoring Georgie, she pitched a tomato she’d dropped into the sink. “And baste the scallops with the sweet chili sauce. Remember they dry out fast, so don’t keep them on the heat too long.”

“You should be grilling instead of me,” he said.

“Like I don’t have enough to do?”

Chaz seemed as bad-tempered as ever, which was reassuring. Georgie gave her a break and spoke only to Aaron. “What happened to your hair?”

“I got it cut this afternoon.” Chaz snorted, and he glared at her. “It was taking too long to dry in the morning, that’s all.”

Another snort.

“It looks great.” Georgie observed him more closely. The buttons lined up in a neat row down the front of his dark green shirt with no sign of strain, and his khakis no longer stretched so tightly across his stomach. Aaron was losing weight, and she had a feeling she knew who was responsible.

“Thanks for helping Chaz tonight,” she said as she stole a mushroom from a bowl on the counter. “If she gets too dangerous, use some pepper spray on her.”

“He’d squirt himself in the eye,” Chaz retorted. She was all attitude, but she knew Georgie had witnessed her pain, and she wouldn’t look at her.

Georgie squeezed Aaron’s arm. “Remind me to give you hazardous-duty pay when this is over.”

Meg stuck her head in. She wore a very short chartreuse tunic with blue leopard-pattern leggings and orange ankle boots. A narrow, braided jute headband had replaced the bindi on her forehead. She grinned and spread her arms. “I look fabulous! Admit it.”