Page 47 of Call You Mine
CHAPTER 14
ANDERSON
“Once the platter stops,you just use this lever here. It lifts the arm so you don’t have to touch it.” I show Georgie how to lift the tonearm using the cueing lever. “Then, make sure you grab the record by the edges.”
I glance down at the empty record sleeve between us on the living room floor.
“Why don’t you grab it off there?”
“Me?” Georgie asks, eyes wide.
I nod.
She looks a little unsure, but I give her a reassuring smile, wondering why she seems so nervous. I feel Ava’s eyes on us as she makes her way into the living room, sitting down on the couch behind us. After a moment, Georgie carefully lifts the vinyl from the turntable and slides it inside while I hold it open for her.
Keeping my features schooled, I make a mental note to ask Ava more about what sort of situation Georgie was in with their mom. All I know is what Ava told me, which isn’t a lot.
“Which one do you want to listen to now?” I ask Georgie, looking around at different album covers and band names,various moments and memories coming back to me as my eyes scan each one.
I had to tiptoe my way around the records Georgie had spread around the hardwood floor, but I didn’t mind—I also didn’t want to mess up any of her piles. There seems to be a method in the way she sits between them, all the album covers surrounding her. There was just enough room for me to squeeze in next to her.
It’s been a while since I’ve added to my vinyl collection, let alone listened to any of the dozens of records I own. I wasn’t surprised to see the thin layer of dust on the record player when I put on the first vinyl Georgie picked out.
Georgie gazes at me, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. “I can listen to another one?” she asks, her eyes wide before turning to Ava.
I try to hide my confusion, my gaze following hers, finding Ava on the couch, having followed me over here when we heard Georgie calling for her. Then, my heart jumped to my throat, and my face felt like it was on fire, moments away from pulling Ava into my arms and kissing the smart ass comment about my blushing off her lips.
Her soft, plush, pouty lips.
“If it’s okay with Anderson,” Ava prompts, pulling her legs under her as her eyes fall to me.
Something about the way she settles into the leather couch has my stomach flipping—she isn’t in a rush to leave.
And if it were up to me, she never would.
“Of course it’s okay with me.” My eyes linger on Ava. The calmness that has been settling over her body since she got here has pride blooming in my chest for some reason. “We can listen to as many as you want.”
“Seriously?” Georgie asks, her hands going to a pile of vinyls she made in front of her crossed legs. “Because there’s like ten here that I?—”
“Slow your roll, kiddo,” Ava interrupts, her palmsrubbing the outsides of her arms as she pulls her legs in even closer. “It’s eight o’clock on a school night. Let’s plan on one more for tonight.”
I reach for the blanket hanging over the other side of the couch, tossing it to her. She gives me a soft smile as she covers her legs.
“What about tomorrow?” Georgie asks. Her eyes are bright as they scan the records in front of her, fanning out the pile as she considers which one she wants to listen to next.
Ava doesn't answer Georgie’s question right away, and I think back to our conversation in the kitchen.
I totally understand that Ava wants to talk to Georgie before they move in here, but they could move in tonight for all I care.
And that should worry me more than it does.
Moving in together became part of the deal the moment that we both realized this marriage had to look real if it was going to work. And I agreed to it without even hesitating—almost too quickly.
I’ve run through the logistics and the timelines of when Ava and Georgie can move in here—I have the room and the space, and I honestly wouldn’t mind the company. Plus, with the months of scrutiny—home visits, court hearings, meetings with Patricia, constant check-ins, questions about our routines, our finances, our relationship—it has to look like we’re building a life together, one for the three of us. One that is made to last.
It can’t just look like an arrangement.
Atemporaryarrangement.
