Unlike him.
“That’s pretty amazing,” Georgie said. “I wish I could say the same.”
He laughed and shoved his beer back a little. “Really? You strike me as the kind of woman who knows what she wants.”
His comment hung between them for a moment, heavy with possibilities, and he saw a flash of something in her eyes. Finally, she said, “Wanting something isn’t the same thing as going for it. Sometimes you can’t.” She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing a little. “You know, my dad had always told us kids he’d finance us if we had a good start-up idea. So after I graduated business school, I spent weeks putting together my proposal for Moon Goddess. I had a whole hour-long presentation planned. Do you know how much of it he listened to before refusing me?”
He reached across the table and put his hand over hers, needing to touch her, to comfort her. “I can tell from the look in your eyes it wasn’t long.”
Which made him want to pummel the stuck-up asshole for being too blind to see his own daughter.
“Seventy seconds. That’s how long he gave me. He said it would never work, that he was ashamed his daughter would ask for help with something like feminine products. He thought it was a disgrace to the family name.” She looked at her hand, that little crease appearing between her eyebrows, but she didn’t pull away. “He gave Lee a job as soon as he graduated. I was never offered one. I’ve never had an interest in real estate, but for a while that was what I thought I wanted. Or I guess I wanted him to want it. But Georgie Buchanan stopped being his replacement son the second he got a real one.”
“Well, you showed him,” River said, because she had, and then some. “If Mr. Big Britches was such a good businessman, shouldn’t he have recognized a multimillion-dollar opportunity when he saw one?”
“Did I, though?” she asked, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m not going to lie, River. I wanted him to grovel at my feet. My therapist would probably have something to say about it, but I sent him the article about the sale. He never acknowledged it. Still hasn’t. I’m a joke to him, and he treats Adalia even worse. The only reason he ever took any notice of us was because my mother insisted. After she died, we were beneath his notice. And Jack…”
“And Jack was always beneath his notice. It’s none of my business, but do you still see your father? I mean, outside of the will reading.”
Her expression held not a little bit of bitterness when she nodded. “He summons us sometimes. For family photo ops, that kind of thing, and we usually spend the holidays at the family house. I always tell myself it’s just to see my brother and sister, and because my mother would want it that way, but a part of me always hopes it will be different. Even though I’m old enough to know better. I don’t know if he’s ever talked to Jack at all. As far as I know, he hasn’t.”
Because she’d told him something private about herself, something he doubted she shared with many people, he found himself wanting to do the same.
“I understand Jack a little. Or at least I think I do. I never knew my father either.”
She shifted her hand, and for a moment, he thought she was pulling away, but instead she turned it around and wove her fingers through his. Her grip was firm and assured, and it felt like a lifeline.
“Oh?” she said, giving him the opportunity to talk but not insisting on it.
He squeezed her hand back. “I still don’t. I don’t know who he was or where he was from, but I suspect he might be Chilean. My mother was traveling through Chile before I was born.”
“Is that a picture of your mother on the mantel?” She winced a little after she said it, like she couldn’t believe she’d asked him, or maybe she was just mortified that she’d called herself out for snooping.
“Yeah,” he said. “I can’t seem to get rid of it. Funny, isn’t it, how you can still care about someone after they’ve treated you like you’re nothing?”
“No,” she said, “it’s not funny at all. But you, River Reeves, are not nothing.”
And then she leaned across the table and kissed him.
Chapter Seventeen
Georgie hadn’t meant to kiss him, but everything had been too perfect. Making beer, River’s eagerness to teach her, and his affection for the puppy. The way he’d opened up after she’d spilled her embarrassing truth about her father, something she’d told no one in so much detail. Her head told her that this couldn’t happen, but her heart…oh, her heart. Her heart was smitten with him—no, more than that, it was enamored. Those eyes of his seemed to see the real her through the put-together image she tried so hard to maintain—not Georgie Buchanan, businesswoman, but Georgie the woman, who wanted to love and be loved. But it was more than that. Her heart recognized that River was a truly good man—loyal, trustworthy, fun. He had a way of taking a bad situation and making it better. So her heart rebelled, and for the first time in her thirty-three years, she let it take the lead, reason be damned.
Her lips pressed lightly to his—the kiss a question for him to answer. She was technically his boss, and he might think this was as bad of an idea as her head insisted, only he didn’t pull away. He leaned closer, only an inch or two as his hand lightly cupped her cheek.
Her body was alive, but the tenderness of his touch, as if she was something precious to treasure, drew her to him like a magnet.
Wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, she tugged him closer and deepened the kiss, and he eagerly accepted the invitation, exploring her mouth with his tongue.
But then her stomach grumbled, and River pulled back with a grin. “It is pretty late. We should probably think about something for dinner other than cinnamon rolls.”
Damn her stomach. She leaned back in her chair, realizing her hips were sore from leaning into the table. It wasn’t very romantic leaning across the kitchen table to kiss him, yet the happiness on River’s face made it clear he didn’t have a problem with it.
“How about we order pizza?” he asked, already getting up to grab his phone from the kitchen counter.
“Yeah,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, her head already swooping in for damage control.
“Do you have a preference for toppings?” he asked.
She got up and grimaced as she turned to face him. “Maybe we should just call it a night. It’s been a pretty long day.”
Disappointment flickered over his face, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “Of course, Georgie, but you’re still staying at the hotel, right? Unless you were planning on getting room service, why don’t we move to the sofa and talk or watch Netflix, or whatever you want to do to unwind before the pizza gets here?”
She had to admit that sounded ten times better than being alone at the hotel, but if she stayed…she was worried where that kiss would lead.
When she hesitated, he added, “I don’t know if you’re having second thoughts about what just happened, but I’m okay with whatever direction you want to take. If you want to pretend that kiss never happened, I won’t deny that I’ll be disappointed, but I also understand and promise to respect your decision. And if you decide it wasn’t a mistake, I want you to know I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.”