The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [252]
Georgia blinked. “I really don’t think—”
“It’s obvious to me that old Jordan here has lost his finesse. I’d be willing to bet he tried to defend your honor or something like that, is that right?”
Jordan growled, but Georgia paid him and his nasty temper no mind. This night had been endless and she’d had just about enough. “You think, perhaps, that I don’t have any honor to defend just because I work for a living?”
Morgan surprised her by shaking his head. “Not at all. I don’t make those type of assumptions about ladies. Malone’d have my head if I did, seeing as I once made a horrid assumption about her.”
Before she could ponder that particular scenario too long, Jordan slapped one hand down on the dash and twisted in his seat to face them both. “You want the nitty-gritty details, Morgan? Is that it?”
“Of course.”
Jordan glared at his brother, and Georgia could feel his hot breath as he leaned around her. Being stuck between these two big oafs was not her idea of fun. She pressed farther back in her seat.
“All right, fine.” The words were ground out from between clenched teeth. “She finished dancing and some bozo started groping her leg. He wouldn’t quit when she asked him to and I stepped in. Unnecessarily, it would seem, at least according to Ms. Barnes.”
Slowly, Georgia turned toward him. She heard his brother mutter, ” uh-oh” under his breath, yet all her attention was now on Jordan.
“For your information,” she said in a slow, precise tone, “I work all week in the bar as a waitress. I deal with those bozos day in and day out. I know them, and I know just how to get them to back off. Without throwing any punches or starting any riots.”
“Uh…” Morgan said, attempting to intervene, “Jordan actually punched someone?”
“Several someones!”
“Only two.”
Morgan cleared his throat. “You dress like that to serve drinks? You must make some hellacious tips.”
Contrary to what she’d just said, Georgia felt like throwing her own punch. “I dress like this to dance on the weekends because it pays a lot better than serving drinks through the week, and unlike some people—” she fried Jordan a look “—I have obligations, and have to do whatever I can to make ends meet.”
The car slowed as Morgan pulled into her driveway. Even as angry as she was, a curious peace settled over her at being home. She’d loved the big old house on sight and dreamed of renovating it into a home her kids could finally be proud of, a home that would last them forever.
It needed work, no denying that. But the yard was spacious, giving the kids plenty of room to play. And the air out here in the country was clean, fresh, putting new color in her mother’s cheeks. The house represented everything Georgia had ever wanted or needed for her family.
Her fist curled around the strap of her purse, now filled with the money that had been thrown onstage. With a little luck, a lot of determination, and enough fortitude, she could make everything right. She had to. Her options were sorely limited.
Morgan turned the car off and Georgia, pulled from her thoughts, realized Jordan was staring at her mouth. Again. Heat rushed through her like a tidal wave, stealing her breath until she nearly choked.
How did he keep doing this to her? He’d made it clear he didn’t approve of her, yet he wanted her. And if she was honest with herself, she was far too aware of him as a man. Absurd. She’d sworn off men!
“It looks to me,” Morgan said softly, “as if a couple of small obligations have been waiting for you.”
“What?” Georgia twisted around at the considering tone of the sheriff’s voice, only to see her son and daughter standing anxiously in the open doorway of the house, their noses practically pressed to the storm door. She knew in an instant that something was very wrong. They should have been long in bed. Her mother never let them to the door without her.
In a