Excerpt: 'Various States of Undress: Georgia' by Laura Simcox

Laura Simcox shares an excerpt from her new release, Various States of Undress: Georgia, book three in her romance series focusing on First Daughters.

Laura: Their dad may run the country, but he can't run them!

First Daughters are fascinating. No matter their age, background or personalities—when the White House becomes a reality, First Daughters are suddenly thrust under a media spotlight, given 24/7 Secret Service protection and must live their lives as best as they can on their own terms. But what if, in the midst of all of that, romance suddenly happens, too?

In the Various States of Undress series, romance takes center stage right along with the young women. Sweet, sexy and funny, these books from Avon Impulse explore what really goes on behind closed doors when First Daughters find love.

Book one: Carolina, a dreamer, falls for Jake, her sigh-worthy Secret Service agent while trapped in a cozy cabin in the middle of a blizzard. Book two: Virginia leaves her wild Manhattan lifestyle behind only to run straight into the arms of Dex, her sexy, persuasive new boss. Carolina and Virginia aren't expecting to meet their true loves, and when they do, fireworks happen.

In Various States of Undress: Georgia, the third book of the series, the fireworks are literal. Georgia is in Memphis to complete her college internship in TV Journalism and has been tasked with interviewing Brett Knox — an elusive, hot-headed star baseball player on his way to the big leagues. Unfortunately for Georgia, her fame is getting in the way because on the Fourth of July, she finds herself throwing out the ceremonial first pitch at a Redbirds game. As for the fireworks? On this sultry summer night, they begin after the game ends…

EXCERPT

Georgia stood in front of the bathroom mirror in her apartment, debating whether or not mascara was in order. She'd never been skilled at applying makeup and she'd already put on blush, bronzer, and some cherry lipstick. It was a bit more dramatic than the makeup she usually wore, which consisted of, well, pink lip gloss. Shrugging, she coated her lashes with mascara and then turned around, bowed her head, and ran her fingers through her curls. When she flipped her head back up, she looked in the mirror again, this time with neutral eyes.

A psycho clown looked back at her, blinking as if she was not quite certain why the circus had left her behind. "Oh damn. What was I thinking?" Grabbing a washcloth, she ran it under the tap and began wiping at her eyes. There was a knock on the front door. "Damn!" she repeated, scrubbing her cheeks. "Just a second!"

Courtney had said she'd be by for a final Secret Service check before retiring for the night in the apartment next door. Before Brett came over. With a shuddering sigh, Georgia dumped the stained cloth into the tub, hoping that she'd removed the worst of the makeup. She yanked the shower curtain closed and walked to the door just as the knocking started again. "Ugh. Hang on. I can't move at warp speed."

"No problem," Brett said from the other side. His voice was laced with laughter, and Georgia's mouth fell open. What was he doing here so soon? The baseball game couldn't be over yet, right?

"Um ... I need to ... unlock the door."

"Take your time. I got all night." Brett's easy, almost lazy, tone made her smile in pleasure despite the fact that she felt ... How did she feel, exactly? She didn't want to know, so she opened the door. "Hey."

"Hey." Brett held a bottle of wine in front of him, and, in the dim glow of the porch light, she could see that his hair was damp. His white T-shirt fit him like a second skin, but, mercifully, his athletic pants were loose and comfy looking. She didn't think she could have maintained any sense of calm if he'd been wearing tight Levis. "I'm early, I know," he said.

"Why?" She paused. "I mean, how?"

He shrugged. "Home plate ump made a bad call. I got pissed off, and he booted me."

"Oh no." She folded her arms over her scoop-neck T-shirt but then immediately let her hands drop to her sides. Displaying her cleavage? Not wise.

"Yeah." Brett grinned. "Can I come in? Unless you're gonna yell at me like the ump did."

"Of course not," she said brightly, stepping back from the door. She walked into the open kitchen and leaned against the counter, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans shorts.

He followed her in. "Looks like you got a lot of sun today."

"I do?" Turning away, she rubbed at her cheeks and then glanced down at her palms, hoping they hadn't come away coated with Sizzle Me Pink blush. They were clean. "Well, I was at the stadium a long time today."

"I know the feeling." Brett set the wine down on the small kitchen island. "By the way, I thought the first pitch tonight was a real stinger."

She gave a skeptical laugh. "Okay."

"Come on, now. You did great. I've seen grown men throw ceremonial pitches in the dirt, but you didn't. Plus you looked pretty cute."

"Thanks." Georgia's face felt hot. "Here I was thinking the bulletproof vest made me look like a block of wood."

"No. Are you planning to interview me tonight?" He took a deep breath.

"No." She glanced at him, watching his chest expand. "I didn't ask you here for that. I just thought ... maybe if you got to know me, you would open up a little. I want to do a good story on you, Brett."

He stared at her for a moment. "You have any glasses?"

"Just plastic cups. I'm living the dream here in Memphis, aren't I?" She pushed away from the counter and went to a cabinet next to the refrigerator.

Brett laughed. "Well, you're only here temporarily, right?"

"True." She pulled down two neon green tumblers and set them on the counter. "I've never been so unsettled in my life."

"Me neither," Brett murmured and reached for the wine. With a quick twist, he unscrewed the cap. "Classy, I know, but nonalcoholic is what I'm all about during the playing season."

"That's okay." She paused. "Why are you unsettled?"

His hands paused, the bottle in midair. "Forget I said that." He poured liquid into the cups, and turned to her with a cocky smile. An inviting smile.

"Okay. But ..." She trailed off, knowing she shouldn't ask him anything else because she ought to be afraid of the answer.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I want to know why you feel unsettled."

He took a step closer to her. "I'm not sure you want to find out."

She glanced at him again, and the intensity of his gaze made her shiver.

"Cold?"

She pointed at the ceiling fan. "It's chilly in here."

"No it's not." He took a step nearer, his hand splaying on the counter near her hip.

Her breath quickened and she swayed forward—way too close to him to pretend that she wasn't interested. "I've been spending a lot of time outside in the heat. Not used to the air-conditioning. So it stands to reason—"

"Only one thing stands to reason, sugar," he said, just as his head dipped lower. "We aren't standing this close to talk about the weather." When his hot breath tickled her neck, she shivered again. "Right?"

Find out more about Laura and her books at www.laurasimcox.com.