Marcus Baker Ginny And Georgia Novels & Stories

There was no way he would get tired of Abigail. Blake looked away from her, aware that she had already begun to run her hands on him. "Just because you're alive shouldn't make you think you didn't commit a grave mistake," Marcus said. "Don't worry, I'll try to make it up to you and everyone affected." Gunnar chuckled. "A toast to my arrival!" He raised his glass, and Blake did the same with the strippers, including Abigail, who poured herself a drink. "Wanna go dance?" The stripper seated beside Marcus asked in a whispery tone. He seemed to be more familiar with the lady; perhaps she was exclusively his, just like Abigail was with Blake.

Georgia said, leaning down towards me, looking at the mark on my face. “Grey is going to be pissed,” she mumbled looking at Rebecca. “I know, I know,” Vicky sighed. “Don‘t engage with Madalynn. We can‘t lose the alliance.” Georgia rolled her eyes as I stood up. She followed us past Madalynn.

I had gotten her number from her mother. She answered on the first ring. “Gianna Windsor speaking.” I sucked on my teeth. I remembered when her name was still Gianna Baker. We hadn’t gotten married out of love, but I couldn’t deny that I didn’t want her to leave. In fact, I still wanted her back in my life. Our parents were onto something when they were arranging our marriage. “Hello?” She called out when I didn’t say anything. “Is anyone there?” “Gianna, I–“

I certainly could not cope with planning his funeral, and the state of Alena means she wouldn’t be able to either. “Hi, I’m Georgina. Sorry, we never actually met officially.” Looking up, she is standing there, tall and beautiful, her face looking hurt from the loss of Jackson. She clearly knew him well. “Marcus.” I smile. It is all I can manage. She sits down, handing me a glass. I have to be honest. A drink would be amazing right now. She pours the whiskey into my glass, then one for herself. Sitting, we stay quiet, our own thoughts keeping us company or, in my case, torturing me.

"We were..... watching the news." Georgia gave Minny an apologetic look. How could she say Minny wakened them? "Did you get a look at him?" Mac asked Luke. "No." "You're losing your touch. Getting old. In your younger days, you have been over that rail and nailed him before he hit the ground. I think you ought to give up baking, Georgia. He's getting fat and sluggish." "You missed Georgia's Oriental chicken, Mac. It was great." He smiled at Georgia. Then he told Mac,

“Thanks. I knew you’d understand.” Lisa was still beaming. “You surprise me more and more, Pearce. Just when I start to think you don’t like boys, you go and pull the hottest one this school has ever seen. Will wonders never cease.” Georgia flushed again. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends, I told you.” “And I’m just a little conceited.” Georgia laughed. “Just shut up and help me.” “I got your back. Plus Benny’s got soccer practice today so let’s maybe keep this between us for now.”

Her tall frame and strikingly handsome features made many people around steal glances. Georgia couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow." Cynthia got out of the car. "Gina, what are you doing here?" Gina shot Georgia a flirtatious wink before wrapping an arm around Cynthia's waist in an overly affectionate manner. "Obviously, I was waiting for you, babe." Cynthia pushed her away. "Enough." Unfazed, Gina turned to Georgia, draping an arm over her shoulders. "Beautiful lady, are you single? Can I be your boyfriend?"

“I can take care of myself, you know.” “I know. But humor me anyway.” She smiles despite the tension. “Fine. We’ll go to the gala. But we’re going in with our eyes open. And if Lexi tries anything—” “If Lexi tries anything, she’s going to regret it,” I finish. We order lunch and try to shift the conversation to lighter topics, but the specter of Lexi’s machinations hangs over us. “There’s something I need to tell you,” Georgia says as we’re finishing our meal. “About my ex-husband.”

“What happened in the cinema? Did he finger you till you cried?” I rush to clamp my hand over her mouth. “Stop.” “I don’t want to fuck him,” I deadpan. “How do I even know if I want to fuck him? I’ve only ever fucked Jake my whole life.” “That’s the problem,” Georgia says, smirking as we get back to bowling. We keep playing. Bentley stays seated, unusually quiet. Not that he talks much anyway, but something’s off. He seems… tense. Sad? Angry? Irritated? I can’t tell. I don’t push.