The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“How long did that last?”

She sipped her wine. “A few years. I actually fell in love with Southern California. There’s no comparison in December, that’s for sure. So I decided to move, but I didn’t give up my Chicago office. I just promoted an agent to manage the day-to-day things there and expanded into California. I only sold the brokerage a few years back.” She smiled. “It was my thing.”

Too bad long distance was the least of the problems with Georgia and me. I liked Celia, but I wasn’t about to go into detail and explain the rest of the shit we had going on. She actually reminded me of Georgia in some ways, which was why I knew the best way to manage this conversation was to agree and steer it away from a debate of any sort.

So I nodded. “We both have a lot to think about in the coming months.”



• • •



“Fifty-Seventh Street?” The driver looked in the rearview mirror.

Georgia and I hadn’t talked about our plans once we landed back in New York. But I wanted her in my bed—that wasn’t a question for me. So I turned to her. “My place?”

“I think I need to go home. I have an early meeting tomorrow that I need to prep for, and I don’t even have my laptop with me. You’re welcome to stay at my place.”

“Can’t. I didn’t book the dog sitters for tonight. Plus, I’ve been neglecting them.”

Georgia nodded. “We could both use some actual sleep anyway. Neither of us tends to get much when we share a bed.”

I grinned. “I’ll take fucking you and being tired over sleeping alone any day.”

The driver was still waiting for an answer. Georgia gave me the wide-eyed, silent shut-up warning. I chuckled and leaned forward to give him her address.

“Thanks for coming this weekend.” I leaned back and took her hand.

“I’m glad I came. I had fun. And I can check be spontaneous off my list of things to work on.”

“Maggie had to get you liquored up and talk you into it.” I shrugged. “But yeah, let’s go with spontaneous.”

She laughed. “Well, it’s spontaneous for me. What are your plans for this week?”

“I have a meeting with my business manager tomorrow, I think. Tuesday I have to go up to Providence, Rhode Island, for a photo shoot.”

“More underwear that you’ll have to fluff up your bulge with a contraption?” She grinned.

“No, thank God. It’s a cologne ad. Depending on how late it goes, I might go by my brother’s in Boston for a quick visit. I haven’t decided if I’m flying or driving yet. What about you?”

“The usual…tons of meetings, emails, production scheduling. I also have to take a ride out to our distribution center in Jersey City this week. We’re getting our first shipment of inventory for some new products, so I want to go make sure everything comes in at the quality we ordered. We’re also having some billboards put up the next day along the Jersey Turnpike, so I might ask Maggie to come and take a ride to see how those look after.”

“Will you have time for dinner one night?”

Her face softened. “I’ll make time.”

When we pulled up at her apartment, I told the driver to give me fifteen minutes so I could walk her up. I grabbed both our bags from the trunk and started to follow her, but after seeing her ass in those yoga pants, I asked her to give me a minute and jogged back to the driver.

“Do you have to pick up someone else?”

He shook his head. “You’re my last ride of the day.”

“Good.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket, peeled off a few bills, and held them out to him. “Is it a problem if I’m more than fifteen minutes?”

The driver looked down at the Benjamins and shook his head. “Not a problem at all.”

“Thanks.” I jogged back to Georgia.

“What was that all about?”

“Did I mention your ass looks spectacular in those pants? It almost makes me want to do that dumb yoga class with you again. Almost.”

She laughed. “What does my ass have to do with the driver?”

“I paid him to stay in case you let me in to tap it.”

Georgia’s nose wrinkled. “Tap it?”

“What? Not eloquent enough for you? How about in case you let me bang you?”

“Yuck.”

“Put the bread in the oven?”

She laughed.

I opened the door to her building. “Pork you?”

She shook her head.

“Slap skins? Shag? Boink? Bump uglies? How about raw-dogging it?”

“Keep going.” She pushed the elevator button, but smiled. “The only thing you’re going to be bumping is your palm.”

“Ah. You want something more mature sounding. Make whoopie? Copulate? Fornicate? Do the hanky-panky?”

We stepped off the elevator, and she laughed as she dug out her keys. “I think you may have wasted that money asking the driver to wait.”

I grabbed a handful of her ass as she unlocked the door. It opened, and we fell inside, both laughing. “How about fuck? That’s a classic. I’d like to fuck the shit out of you, Georgia.”

I dropped her bag on the floor and wrapped my hands around her waist, ready to peel those sexy-as-shit yoga pants off her body.