She stood at the window gazing out over the water, her bare shoulders bathed in moonlight. There was a comforting grace to her contented silence as she watched the lightning dance across the glassy surface below the expansive mansion. Georgie was doing her best to remain calm and brave, the ever-understanding young woman that she had been raised to be. However, as the minutes ticked on without word from Cooper or Maxie, she was becoming increasingly worried once again. The unsettling presence of Logan Hayes left her feeling even more disconcerted. As her eyes shifted back to where he sat alone on the sofa, she forced herself to suppress a pang of something all too familiar.

"He's been gone a long time," his rugged Texas accent drawled in the darkness. Looking back over at him, she was surprised to see him hunched over, his head in his hands. "This is not how this night was supposed to go. I just wanted to do something nice for Lulu. After everything…I owed her one perfect night."

He knew that his admission was uncharacteristic, but there was nothing about this night that was ordinary. Georgie had an uncanny ability to draw the truth out of those around her, and he was no exception to her spell. She remained quiet, choosing only to cross her arms around her curvy frame protectively. "This isn't what I expected either," she confessed sadly. "On the launch coming over, the evening held this sort of magical promise. Looking up at the candlelit ballroom, I was sure that anything could happen. I guess I was kind of right."

Logan laughed humorlessly before raking his fingers through his sandy blonde hair nervously. He shrugged off his jacket and propped his feet up on the hand-carved coffee table in front of the dark red velvet couch. Closing his eyes for the first time since becoming trapped in the dark room with the younger Jones girl, he tried to figure a way out of this. He wasn't worried about himself; instead, his concern rested on Georgie. While very few people would care if anything was to happen to him, an entire community would mourn if she was lost. The mere responsibility of taking care of her would be enough to drive him, even if he wasn't feeling something somewhere in the depths of his heart.

"Maybe we should have gone with him," Georgie piped up. He turned to look at her, his eyes grazing over the gentle slope of her neck. Chestnut curls played at the delicate nape, just daring someone to entangle their fingers in the silky tresses. "Mac always said that there is safety in numbers. We could have looked for her together or split up. Anything would be better than being stuck in here."

"Am I that bad?" he taunted before growing serious. "Maxie wouldn't want you to put yourself at risk. I would never give that girl credit for anything, but it's pretty clear that she loves you. Coop will find her and bring her back her safely. For now, I think it's best that we just sit tight until I can figure out a plan."

There was nothing Georgie hated more than being told what to do, but given the circumstances, she really didn't know what else to do. Besides, he sounded genuinely worried about her, not condescending. "You're probably right," she relented. "I just hate feeling helpless. I've never been one to have people do anything for me. It's always been on me to take care of everything. I'm not used to needing anyone."

"Well, Sweet Potato, I'm not used to anyone needing me," he replied with a wry smile. Kicking off his uncomfortable black shoes, he looked at her over his shoulder. "The only time anyone has ever really needed me was when I was in Iraq. It was kind of nice to know that what I did mattered to people because there was someone out there relying on me. Coop was the first person besides my mom who ever really gave a damn. I guess that's why I followed him here. He still needed me. He's the only one."

"He's not the only one," she argued. "I mean, you just pointed out for yourself that I need you. And about what you said earlier, Logan, you're not that bad. You need to be a little more confident in yourself. There are apparently two people in this world who think you are worth something – Coop and Lulu. If they can see the good in you, there just might be hope for you."

"And what about you, Georgie? What do you see?"

She was startled by the unexpected question. His usually cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by an emotionally raw little boy simply seeking acceptance. "I see you, Logan," Georgie answered. Her blunt honesty surprised even her. She was usually more careful with her words, painstakingly dissecting each syllable. "The good and the bad, it's an open book for me to read. You come off as this smug, arrogant jerk, and that is a part of you. But underneath it, the part that counts, there is someone who just wants someone to love him."

A vivid memory flashed in Logan's mind, instantly recalling a similar conversation he had with his mother in the months before she died. They had sat on the front porch one evening, sipping sweet tea and watching the sun fade into the magenta horizon. She had told him that there were going to be times when he would build walls so high around himself that he never thought anyone would get in. Then, someday, he would meet a girl that made him want to knock those walls down. She would see past the visage. When he had met Lulu, he had thought she was going to be the one worth deconstructing his fortress, but listening to Georgie, he suddenly wasn't so sure.

"You kind of remind me of my mother," he commented airily, not wanting to hint at how much that meant to him. He knew that he had already told her too much. "You don't really talk about your mother much. Lulu said that your parents were both spies but now she spends a lot of time in Texas taking care of her grandmother."

It was Georgie's turn to laugh humorlessly. Reaching down, she freed her small feet from the confines of the masochistic contraptions called stiletto heels. Padding barefoot across the room, she dropped the heels on the floor and tucked herself into the corner of the couch opposite Logan. "My parents are kind of an enigma to me," she attempted to explain. "I've only met my biological father a handful of times, all much earlier into my childhood. My mom has sort of been in and out of our lives. She doesn't even show up for the important moments. I think I got a brief phone call when I divorced Dillon, and Maxie's hostage situation at the Metrocourt only elicited a bouquet of flowers with a short note."

"So, who are you like?"

She shrugged, not really sure how to answer the question. "Maxie is so much like both our parents. She thrives on the drama, living for that adrenaline rush of whatever heist she is trying to pull. She lives by her heart, not caring what repercussions await her on the other end. But she definitely looks like our mother," Georgie analyzed aloud. "I guess I kind of look like Frisco because we both have darker features. But I'm not really like either of them. I'm more like Mac. He's reliable, honest and good-hearted. He always tries to do the right thing. He's been the only person I've ever felt like I could really depend on. He's the only parent I've ever truly had."

Logan was about to ask her another question when a booming crash fell just outside the room. He dove instinctively toward Georgie, shielding her from whatever was about to happen. Pressing his body against hers, he looked past her shoulder toward the door and focused all his attention on any sounds in the air. When nothing came, he shifted his gaze to meet her deep brown eyes. Glancing down at her mouth, he unconsciously bit his bottom lip. Finally, when the proximity became too much, he lifted himself off her. "Sorry," he apologized with a hushed whisper. "Stay here. I am going to go look and see if I can figure out what happened."

Georgie watched his retreating back as he approached the door cautiously. Just as he was about to reach for the brass doorknob, another round of crashes filled the corridor outside the door. Jumping from the sofa, she scurried barefoot toward him, desperate to reach him before he opened the door. If he insisted on investigating, she was going to be right behind him. It wasn't that she was afraid; in fact, fear was the last thing on her mind. They were together in this, and she was determined to have his back.

"I told you to stay there," he murmured softly. Georgie shrugged defiantly and tried to reach around him for the doorknob. When she was about to open her mouth in protest, Logan clamped his hands over her lips. "I need to figure out what's going on out there, Sweet Potato. I can't really focus on the task at hand if I have to worry about you, too."

"I don't need you to worry about me. In case you have forgotten, I can take care of myself," she reminded him. "Besides, you might as well forget it. I'm not about to let you do this alone. I'm not just some demure girl content to rest on her laurels while a man does her dirty work. We're a team, Logan. Just shut up and let me help you."

Her fire was enough to convince him that she could hold her own for the moment. Silently twisting the door open, he peaked around the corner. The hall was empty, the faint glow of the moon cascading through just enough to illuminate the narrow passageway. Whatever had been out there was now gone. Grateful for the temporary reprieve, he shut the door firmly and turned the lock. "I think we're safe for now."

Georgie smiled up at him, clearly relieved. She followed him back toward the couch, sitting just a little closer than she had before. "When I was a little girl, I used to dream about getting trapped in a majestic house like Wyndamere with a handsome prince," she remembered. "I was so sure that it would be romantic. I guess this is a little more like a nightmare than a fairytale."

"For someone who seems so realistic, you sure are a dreamer," he pointed out. "Before tonight, I thought I had you all figured out, but there is definitely more to you. You are a living paradox."

"Those are big words coming from you, Tex," she teased, trying her best to lighten the mood. "Women are complex creatures, what can I say? Just when you think you got one of us dames pegged, we turn out to be something completely different. What'd you think I was like?"

Logan ducked his head at her affectionate nickname. "You've always seemed so practical and wholesome, almost naïve to a point. You're obviously fiercely loyal and completely focused. Driven, honest and confident," he listed. "And you are all those things, but there is this other side of you. You're feisty and savvy. You always know exactly how to say exactly what you are thinking. You don't put up with anything from anyone, but you always want to see the best in everyone."

She listened to his description, liking the way that he saw her. The only person who had ever seen any of that in her was Dillon, but even he hadn't gotten the entire picture. It was almost like he had picked out the parts of her that he liked and accepted that as her whole person. Logan saw all of it, even the parts she reserved only for herself. "Well put," she offered simply. He grinned at her widely, clearly proud of himself.

"Thanks," he retorted. Georgie nodded as an involuntary yawn escaped from her pursed lips. "Are you tired? We're not going anywhere. Why don't you take a nap for awhile and I'll stand guard?"

"We should both stay awake," she argued. "It's the only fair thing."

"I don't care what's fair," he assured her. Grasping her ankles, he pulled her down until she was laying flat on her back on the couch. Spreading his discarded jacket over her body, he arranged her feet in his lap. "You should get some sleep."

"I'm not that tired," she lied, but her body betrayed her. Snuggling beneath the warmth of his black coat, she felt like herself for the first time in hours. Her brain was telling her to protest, but the words somehow failed to come. Instead, her heavy eyes finally dropped shut as she fell into a light but peaceful slumber.