Chasing Kane Read Online Free PDF Page B

Molly’s. “Why aren’t you off romping around with him when he gave you such a thorough and gleaming résumé?”
    She threw her head back, the muscles in her long, slender neck contracting against laughter. “I figure I’ll make him sweat it out a bit.” Throwing me a quick wink, Nessa turned and linked arms with a female bandmate of hers—Clara, I think—and headed for the restrooms.
    I’d never actually seen Nessa go off with any guy after a show—or girl for that matter—but I’d also never spent much time with her, knew nothing about her personal life, and there was the pesky little bit about it being none of my business. I stuck to my beer and enjoyed the comforting sights and sounds of the local bar, pulling out my cell phone.
    Me: We’re at Molly’s, wanna come down?
    It was a long three minutes before I got a response.
    Georgia: Sleeping.
    I sighed. Of course she was. It was two fifteen in the morning, according to my trusty cell phone, and she’d have to wake up in less than two hours to get the ovens roaring at Sweet Forty-Two for the Sunday morning brunch rush.
    Me: I’ll come home soon.
    Georgia: Don’t rush. You know where I’ll be. I love you.
    I didn’t rush. I stayed, partying with my friends and acquainting CJ with everyone, and vice versa. We laughed and partied until closing time at three thirty when the designated drivers, myself included, poured our charges into our respective vehicles and deposited them at their desired locations. CJ didn’t need a ride home, thanks to Mona, one of the waitresses at Molly’s. So, when I’d dropped the last person off, I slid quietly into the back door of the bakery, which is at the bottom of the stairs leading to our apartment.
    “Hey,” I whispered, even though she’d peeked over her shoulder when the door opened.
    Georgia turned with a tired, but gorgeous smile, her hands wrist-deep in pillowy dough. “Hey,” she echoed. “Why are we whispering?”
    I wrapped my arms around her waist as she continued to knead what would certainly become a heavenly creation. “It’s early,” I continued.
    “Or late,” she retorted, still soft. “You smell like a bar.”
    “You smell like brown sugar.” I brought my nose to the crook of her neck and inhaled the thick molasses scent, letting a small moan escape in my exhale.
    I let my hands run along the waistband of her worn jeans before bringing them over the sinful curve of her backside. Her grey T-shirt with the shop’s logo on it was tied in the back, as usual, with a black elastic hair tie—while her trademark red bandana was tasked with keeping her hair out of her face.
    Turning her face toward me slightly, Georgia allowed my lips to skim down her jawline where I planted a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You guys have another show today?” she asked
    “Tonight.” I nodded. “Later. Much, much later.”
    The mention of time weighed heavy on my eyelids as I stole one more kiss off the skin of my bride’s cheek before giving her butt a firm squeeze.
    “I’ll come. Ride with you guys.” I hadn’t noticed she’d stopped kneading until she started again. Her narrow shoulders moving with the punching, stretching, folding, and turning. “Want me to wake you up later?”
    Stepping back, I allowed the yawn I’d been holding back to roll through me. With a slow nod, I conceded. “Please.”
    Georgia looked at the clock hanging on the wall over her left shoulder. “Noon?”
    I looked, too, as if I didn’t already know it was approaching five in the morning. I didn’t know how life-long rock n’ rollers did it, I was sore .
    “Noon’s good,” I agreed. It was a lie even Georgia chuckled at as she heaved the dough from the wide metal bowl onto the counter, rolling it out and sectioning it off into perfectly identical triangles.
    Scones. Mmm.
    “Well, it’ll be good enough for today,” I compromised.
    “Don’t burn yourself out right out of the gate, Mr. Kane,” she