Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(101)

“I miss him.”


“I know you do, baby.”


Georgia ripped up more grass. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her chin trembled.


He felt so damn helpless, even when he knew exactly what she was going through. He dealt with the anniversary of Luke’s death differently, surrounding himself with people—strangers usually—so he had no choice but to slap on a happy face and not dwell on the loss.


Several long moments passed. Then she blindly reached out to him. “I…”


Tell stood and picked her up like she was a child, cradling her to his chest. “It’s okay. I’m here.”


She melted into him, with a whispered, “Thank you.”


“You’re breakin’ my heart, sweetness. What can I do?”


“Take me home.”


He headed back to his truck, wishing he could wrap her in cotton batting and keep her safe from all the hurt the world inflicted. He rubbed his lips over her crown, breathing in the scent of her, murmuring assurances he’d be there for her, no matter what.


She’d stopped crying, but she clung to him.


By the time he reached the parking lot, a prickly feeling caused the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned and saw an older man standing at the opposite end of the path.


A man he recognized as Georgia’s father.


Tell started in that direction, but the man shook his head. Then he pointed to Georgia, indicating Tell should continue as he was, tending to the weeping woman in his arms. Tell nodded, but it made him uneasy, given the strained relationship Georgia had with her father.


“Where to?”


“Your place.”


Such a surprise that she preferred his crappy trailer to her house in town. Wait. Did she consider his place…home?


She stayed in the middle of the bench seat, tucking herself against his side so no space remained between them. Tell idly played with her hair, letting music from the radio fill the silence on the drive to house.


Once they were inside his trailer, he noticed her cradling her arm. “What’s wrong?”


“I keep forgetting about my tattoo and then I rub against it.”


He frowned. “When did you get a tat?”


“Before I went to the cemetery. It’s a memorial tattoo India did for RJ. So I don’t forget what he meant to me.”


Oh. Sweetness. You are such a beautiful woman. Inside and out. “Does it hurt?”


“A little.” She blew out a long breath. “Okay. It hurt a lot. I cried while she was doing it. I cried when she finished.”


“Maybe the tears weren’t only from the pain of the needle?” he murmured.


Her beautiful eyes were wet again. “No. How did you know?”


He just stared at her.


“I’m sorry. Thoughtless of me, isn’t it? Sometimes I’m so…selfish in my grief I forget I’m not the only one in the world who’s lost a brother.”


“But you’re the only one who’s lost your brother,” Tell said gently.


Georgia touched his face, her palms lightly resting on his jaw as her thumbs stroked his cheekbones and his temples. “You are a good man, Tell McKay. Everyone underestimates you, don’t they? Believing you’re just a laid-back, fun-loving guy out for a good time. You keep things light because you don’t want people to realize the intensity of emotion inside you.”


How in the hell had she seen that?


“Thank you for letting me see that part of you. Thank you for letting me have some of your strength.”


“Anytime, sweetness. Anytime.”


She looked down and tears dripped on her jeans. “I’m so tired.”


“I know. C’mere.” Tell hauled her onto his lap.


She wiggled until she found her spot and sighed.


He kissed her crown. “Rest. I’ve got ya.”


They both dozed off.


Georgia shifted and something sticky rubbed on his arm.


He glanced down and saw blood. He kissed her forehead, wanting to wake her up gently. “Georgia? You’re bleeding through the gauze.”


“Guess that’s my sign it’s time to clean the skin and change the bandage.” She sat up. “Are you squeamish?”


“No. Why? Do you need help?”


“Probably.”


Tell followed her to the bathroom.


She ripped off the gauze and surgical tape. She wet a big cotton square with water and squirted on antibacterial soap, dabbing at the crusted blood. After rinsing with clean water, she patted the area dry. “Wanna see it?”


“Hell yeah.”


Georgia showed him the inside of her forearm. Black block initials RJ outside a red circle. But upon closer inspection, the circle appeared to be in 3D, like a woman’s rounded belly, with the yin and yang symbols at the center.


“This is perfect. Did you design it?”


“Just the rough sketches. India did the real design work.”