Kitabı oku: «Just Once More...», sayfa 7
It was something he could definitely get used to, but if he wanted the chance, a little damage control was in order. And it started within a half-block of the restaurant as they walked down Randolph for some air before catching a cab.
Slanting a look at the woman tucked beneath his arm, he brought up the topic he knew had never fully left her thoughts. “That made you pretty uncomfortable tonight? The jokes about getting married?”
She glanced up at him, the relief in her eyes suggesting she’d been revving up to broach the subject herself. “It’s awkward. I mean, isn’t it awkward for you?”
It might have been if he wasn’t with someone he knew was on the same page. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s just talk. From my sisters. I’m used to it. But then, I’ve never been engaged. So I’m probably not so sensitive as you are.”
There was a subtle tensing of her shoulders and Garrett knew he’d touched a nerve. “You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know what happened.”
They continued to walk another quarter of a block in silence. Only a few cars were passing so late on a weeknight downtown.
“With Paul, I was really young and very stupid,” she started. “We’d been friends since grade school and started to date at fifteen. He was the nicest boy I knew and, because we were such good friends first, when we hit the next level … the relationship kind of took.”
Garrett nodded his understanding. Though he hadn’t done much legitimate dating in high school himself, he remembered what it had been like with his friends. Oftentimes there’d been an attraction and not much else, which meant a fair amount of turnover when it came to young love. But not so for Nichole.
Because in this, like in everything else, she’d been different. Ahead of the curve.
And she’d paid for it.
“A lot of girls sort of had that wandering-eye thing. New crushes every month or so. But I liked having something steady in my life. I liked Paul as much as I loved him, and pretty soon we were graduating, and we’d been together for three years, and we were going to the same college. Everyone thought it was so romantic and kept asking us about whether we were going to get married. I think maybe we simply got used to the idea. Like, Yeah, of course we will. We love each other. Why not?” She was shaking her head then, with a quiet laugh. “Of course, the why not answer should have been, we were basically kids. Only no one seemed to notice.”
Garrett couldn’t even imagine. “What about your parents? Didn’t they try to talk you out of it? I mean what were you? Eighteen?”
“His parents thought we were a great match. His mom told me how I was like the daughter she’d never had. And my mom. Sheesh.” She opened her mouth, tried to find the words and seemed to fail. Then, pulling a guilty face, she tried again. “My mom is wonderful, but her priorities … her sense … sometimes it’s not what it should be. She got pregnant with me when she was seventeen and my dad never married her. He basically took off when he found out about me and sent a check once or twice a year for a while. So in her book, me getting married—and to a guy she’d known forever, with us both so close at Marquette University—it was about the best news she’d ever heard.”
He’d known her father wasn’t around. But it wasn’t until this moment he understood the extent of that absence. No father. No brother. Just a mother who’d wanted a commitment for her girl even if she was too young to make one.
Clearing his throat, he prompted her for more. “But it didn’t work out?”
She shrugged. “Paul came to his senses about six months before the wedding. He was so apologetic. So genuinely sorry. He was looking around him, seeing everyone else in the world just starting their lives and figuring out who they were. What they wanted. And there we were, ready to call it done. He thought we both deserved a chance to figure ourselves out a little more. And deep down I knew he was right. So we called off the wedding and went our separate ways. He transferred to a school out east and I got on with my life.”
She didn’t seem bitter. But he knew from talking with Maeve—and from the hints he’d picked up from her, her heart had been badly abused.
“And you met someone else?”
The way her features tightened up told him this schmuck was someone he never wanted to meet. Contrary to popular belief, and with a very few exceptions, Garrett wasn’t generally a violent guy. But the pain that flashed across Nichole’s face had him wanting to do physical harm before he’d even heard the story.
“Joel was …” She let out a sigh. “He was a few years older. And when I met him he just struck me as so confident. Like he totally knew what he wanted—which appealed to me, I’m sure, for very obvious reasons.”
“You thought he’d be safe.” Garrett gave her shoulder a rub and then stopped to take her hand in his. He wanted to know what had happened. Wanted to see her face when she told him.
“I’d had a couple of years to lick my wounds over Paul, and when Joel finally asked me out I was excited to go. Ready for something new.” She slanted a glance at him. “Ready for my mother to stop with the heavy sighs every time I talked to her and the subtle nudges that I should apologize to Paul—”
“What?” he barked out, but she waved him off.
“For pressuring him, or letting him go, or whatever it was that day. Anyway, she was probably more excited than I was when things got serious with Joel. And I guess I didn’t have enough experience to see what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to see it because I was so hungry to build myself the family I’d wanted as a kid. Or maybe my heart just didn’t have any breaks on it. Who knows? But it never should have gone as far as it did.”
Garrett listened, his temper escalating as Nichole tried to explain what had gone wrong. The actions and events she’d misinterpreted. The off-the-cuff remarks she’d taken to heart. She was trying to tell him what had happened with this chump had been as much her fault as her ex’s, but all Garrett could see was some spineless jackass unwilling to take responsibility for his words and actions.
“He asked you to marry him. After two years. How is that rushing or your fault?”
Nichole’s skin looked pale beneath the fading light as she looked away, shame haunting her eyes. Making his gut twist for asking her.
“He said being with me was like being caught in a riptide. He didn’t realize how dangerous I was until it was almost too late.”
Dangerous.
Garrett’s teeth ground down as he struggled for patience. Told himself not to try to look this guy up so he could pay him a visit. Have a few words.
But, damn it, what a piece of work.
When she spoke again it was so quietly he almost missed it.
“I thought we wanted the same things. That we were in it together. But I was wrong.”
And though she didn’t say the word he knew it was there in her head. Again.
Garrett gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his chest so his words would fall from his lips to her ears. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting those things, Nichole. In the past, you just wanted them with the wrong guys. But you’re a different woman now. With more life experience. You won’t make the same mistakes. You won’t get burned again.”
Catching the delicate turn of her jaw in his palm, he met her eyes.
“When you meet the right guy—one who actually deserves you—you won’t be too young. You won’t be caught up in a bunch of empty promises. You’ll be ready and so will he.”
And maybe Garrett would get invited to the wedding, because even though he’d been with her like this, he couldn’t imagine their not being friends when the rest was over. Couldn’t imagine not being able to talk and laugh with her.
Okay, right now he couldn’t imagine not being able to put his hands on her or move inside her body, but that part would go away when this thing between them finally ran its course.
Someday some guy was going to get everything he’d ever wanted in this woman. But in the here and now, at least for a little while, Nichole was his. And he was going to make every minute they had together count. Starting right now, with getting her mind off the past by distracting her with a short-term future he’d been thinking about for a few weeks now.
“Until then …” He leaned closer to her ear, so his mouth played around the delicate shell as he spoke, effectively changing the tone of their communication within a few choice words.
Nichole’s hands tightened against his chest. So sensitive.
“I’ve got a spectacular idea …”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY bucket list and assume it’s the end of the discussion.”
Nichole was walking a step ahead of him now, laughing over her shoulder as they approached the intersection.
“Sure I can,” he answered, watching with satisfaction as she turned an arched brow on him, her mind about as far from the two guys who’d torn up her life as possible. This … now … it was about them.
“Sure I can?” she demanded, that one betraying curve at the corner of her mouth spurring him on.
“Uh-huh.” Reaching the corner, he moved into her space, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him as he reached around her to flag a cab a block down. “You know you can’t resist this face.”
“Garrett,” she growled at him, in a way that was more laughter than anything else.
“Nichole,” he rumbled back against her ear, loving how her body almost melted into his as a result. “It’s Crush, Napa Valley. A single weekend a few months from now. I want to take you.”
They’d have fun. Hit a handful of wineries. Get drunk on each other for a few nights out of town.
“Trust me, Nichole. It’ll be amazing.”
“I do trust you. Trusting you isn’t the problem. It’s just—”
“What? It’s just a weekend. Two like-minded adults, on the same page, getting away for a little not-so-serious fun.” He nuzzled her ear, catching the shell in the light grasp of his teeth for barely a second and then pulling away. “Say yes.”
Her breath was soft and warm against his neck.
“I’ll think about it, Garrett,” she whispered as a cab slowed to a stop behind them. “How about that?”
“Perfect.”
For now. He had plenty of time to convince her.
Nichole glanced at her nightstand and let out a frustrated sigh. Three a.m. and still her mind wouldn’t slow down enough to sleep. And it had nothing to do with the coffee she’d had after dinner. Her thoughts had been ping-ponging around her head for half the night. Working out justifications. Trades. Negotiations with herself to ensure this tightrope of emotional investment she was walking didn’t trip her up and cause her to fall.
Garrett had said they were on the same page, in the same place. And maybe if Paul and Joel hadn’t come up that evening she wouldn’t have thought twice … but, oh, she really didn’t want to fall. She didn’t want to be the one who got swept away. The one who cared too much.
What she wanted was everything to continue on with Garrett the way it was. Her remaining just this side of in too deep. The place she already stood. Without Garrett taking her on some romantic weekend getaway.
To Napa.
They’d talked about wine a few weeks ago—Garrett’s surprise years ago on discovering his appreciation and interest in it, her curiosity about what set one vineyard apart from another, her amazement at the idea of air infused with the scent of fresh picked grapes.
And now he wanted to take her to wine country for Crush.
It would be incredible. Romantic. Fun.
They could find a little bed-and-breakfast. Rent bicycles or take the wine train. They could roll around in bed all night. Laze around through the morning.
Make love.
Sure, it was more than a few hours out with a group of friends and then a night spent getting creative between the sheets. More than laughing on her couch as they talked the night away. More than some quick kiss before darting out the door at the break of dawn to hit an early meeting. It was intimacy on an extended basis. The kind of romantic with the potential to rock the status quo.
Garrett understood her fears. Knew what held her back. He’d whispered in her ear that she didn’t need to worry about their relationship going too far. That even if she got carried away he’d keep his feet on the ground. That she could count on him.
Closing her eyes against the yawning void of night, she drew a deep long breath and pushed it out. Tried to let her body go lax and find a quiet spot in her mind. Only she couldn’t stop thinking.
About the way they talked. Laughed. And played.
About how she felt when they were together.
She knew she could trust Garrett. But she was beginning to wonder if she could trust herself.
Garrett threw an arm over his eyes and let out a feral growl.
It wasn’t like he and Nichole spent every night together.
They only saw each other three or four nights a week. Okay, sometimes five. But it had become something of a standard when they did get together … they stayed together. And he liked it.
Last night he’d dropped her at home, though, without even an attempt at going in. He’d seen that flash of panic in her eyes at his Napa suggestion and recognized what she needed was a little time to get used to the idea. To let it sink in that they could make plans for a weekend in the future without the worry of it being about building a future together. She needed to trust in both of them so she could enjoy what they had to its fullest potential.
She’d come around, he knew. But he’d figured the space would help.
Only now he’d been awake all damn night.
At four forty-five it didn’t even make sense to keep trying to sleep.
On a grunt, he jackknifed up from the bed, swinging his legs over the side as he scrubbed a palm over his jaw.
How the hell was he going to make it through the day? He had meetings scheduled back-to-back until six. He’d never make it. Not like this.
If it were just the sleep deprivation he’d be fine. Hell, with the load he’d been carrying these last years he was no stranger to pulling all-nighters. But the lack of sleep coupled with this other problem—this hunger and ache that seemed to have permeated every damn cell in his system …?
Yeah, that was going to get in the way.
He had to do something.
Twenty-five minutes later Garrett was standing outside Nichole’s door, a tray of espressos in one hand and a bag of Danish in the other. Balanced on one foot, he kicked the door—quietly. Sort of.
If she didn’t answer he’d take off. Throw back the jet fuel and chow down the pastry. Head back to his own apartment and get on with the day that would have been a thousand times better if it had involved Nichole from the start.
Nichole sat up in bed, her brow furrowed as she cocked her head, listening. Because someone had just knocked on her door. Reaching for her phone, she checked her messages. Not finding any, she headed down the hall, slipping on her robe as she went.
There was only one person on the planet who would show up unannounced at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. And at that minute Nichole couldn’t have been happier for the intrusion.
Maeve was just the woman to talk some sense into her. Assure her this invitation for a weekend away wasn’t anything to get her panties in a twist over.
She’d tell her to relax. Settle down. Skip the theatrics and just enjoy the ride, taking it as it came. She’d remind her that neither of them was interested in something serious. So serious wouldn’t happen.
Only she’d say it in some typically crass Maeve way that would have Nichole nearly weeping with laughter.
Throwing the door open with relief, she’d got as far as, “I love yo—” when her eyes focused on the figure that was most definitely not Maeve standing on her stoop.
Amusement tinged with confusion filled those deep blue eyes as Garrett’s head cocked to the side and he asked, “Expecting someone else?”
Hand flying to her mouth, she shook her head, coughed so hard she ended up gasping and then finally wheezed out an emphatic, “Yes!”
Garrett’s mouth opened, then closed as he looked off toward the sky before finally returning to her with a totally mystified stare. “Since I dropped you here at eleven last night?”
At which point she realized what she’d said and once again gave in to a fit of sputtering while she shook her head. Only then she saw Garrett was just playing with her, because that glint of mischief said he wasn’t concerned at all.
And then he was stepping into her home before she’d thought to invite him, moving into her space like he knew without asking how badly she wanted him to be there. He backed her down the hall toward the kitchen, crowding her as much with the predatory intent in his eyes as the solid mass of his body. Making her come alive in a way five a.m. had never seen before.
“I thought maybe it was—”
“Yeah,” he cut in, his eyes working a slow descent from her shoulders to her breasts, waist, hips, legs and toes. “I know exactly who you thought it was. The only person on the planet with the nerve to show up unannounced before the crack of dawn. My sister.”
Nichole peered up at him. Sexy was radiating off his form like the rising sun. Warming everything it touched.
Sounding breathless in a way she’d only experienced with Garrett, she teased, “It must run in the family, then?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so until today, but here I am.”
The small of her back made contact with the island countertop, preventing any further retreat. Garrett set the tray of breakfast down beside her, then slid it away, leaving room for his hands to rest on the counter at either side of her. Caging her in.
“What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like, sweetheart?” Leaning in ever closer, so his breath played around the whorl of her ear, he answered, “I’m here for breakfast.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, Garrett left the repetitive sound of hammering, power saws and the shouts of his crew behind as he ducked out in search of some relative quiet. Eyeing the progress from across the street, he dialed back his sister and held the phone to his ear.
“Sorry about that, Bethany. I’m at the Worther site today. Noisy. Everything okay?” he asked, as he always did when one of his sisters called unexpectedly.
After she’d assured him she and the kids were fine, she asked about his plans for the evening, cluing him in to the reason behind her call—though if left to her own devices she probably wouldn’t have managed to spit out her actual request for another five minutes at least.
Bethany, who hated to ask anyone for anything, needed a sitter.
“I’ve got plans to see Nichole tonight, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a slight change.”
Bethany heaved a sigh of relief, thanking him with all the sisterly devotion reserved for sacrificial bailouts, then adding a mandatory, “Are you sure? If it’s any inconvenience I’ll figure something else out.”
Nice offer, but she needed help. And when it came to his sisters he couldn’t say no.
Or at least not when he knew they really needed it. No to a new car, to a date with the bass player from a band, a degree in basket weaving appreciation? Another story altogether.
“Not a problem. So, what time do you want us there?” A silent beat followed and Garrett checked the phone to ensure the call hadn’t been disconnected.
“Beth?”
“Um … so you’re both coming over tonight?” she asked, in a way so the question dragged out to a point where you couldn’t miss that there was way more going on than the words actually spoken.
She had a problem. But Nichole had babysat with Maeve before. Maybe even once or twice without Maeve. The kids knew and liked her.
Then he realized it might not be Nichole his sister had a problem with at all.
Just him … with Nichole.
Damn it, this was that Panty Whisperer bull again.
He could only imagine the rumors his sisters had heard about him over the years. What they might be spurring her on to think. Surely nothing so wholesome as making out on the living room couch after the kids went to bed? No. It would probably be some totally depraved act in the kitchen, involving half the cooking utensils. Which wasn’t to say there wasn’t some appeal in that idea … in his own kitchen … with Nichole the only other person in the house. But Bethany couldn’t seriously believe …
“You know nothing would ever happen between us while we were responsible for the boys.”
“Oh, no! Garrett, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I swear,” she answered, so fast and so urgently he wondered exactly how much of the sting he’d revealed in his voice. “Honey, I know you would never be anything but one hundred percent responsible while taking care of your nephews.”
Garrett blinked, his mouth curving at the realization he’d just heard “the big sister voice.” Something it had been the better part of two decades since he’d had the privilege of earning. She was reassuring him. Easing his insecurities. The novelty of it was enough to make him laugh.
“What’s with that laugh?”
“Don’t worry about it, Beth. Something funny from this end.” True enough. He never liked to lie to his sisters. Made it a point not to do it. But the occasional dodge … that much he could live with. “So, if you’re not worried about me making you an auntie again on your stairwell, what’s with the drawn-out hesitation?”
She let out a laugh, again making him feel all kinds of little brother. After all these years it was a bizarre experience, to say the least.
“Well, I guess I’m a little surprised. I mean, I know you’re dating, but for you to bring her for something like this … how serious are you?”
“We’re not.” The words fired out of his mouth, leaving a guilty aftertaste behind.
“Really? Did I just miss all the other women you’ve brought around to hang out with your family over the past decade or so?”
When she put it that way … Relatively speaking, this relationship with Nichole went far beyond the hookups he’d been making do with until now. But serious was the one word he’d had to swear to Nichole not to use. Still, the kinds of clarifications he’d have to make for his sister to understand weren’t something he was up to sharing.
“Okay, yeah, I get what you’re saying. But don’t get too many ideas about Nichole. We’re—”
“Friends with benefits?” she offered helpfully.
“No.” More than that. “I mean, we’re definitely friends too.” But it wasn’t like they were just a couple of pals using each other to get off. Not even close. They were more than friends, enjoying each other in an honest, open, safe capacity … They both understood, even if they couldn’t quite put a name to it. They were at a good place together. A place they could both handle. “Look, don’t worry about it. We’re not planning to elope. And, while I honestly care about her, the only reason I’ve been ‘bringing her around’ is because she already knows you guys. I mean, hell, with this babysitting thing tonight—she’s actually watched your kids on her own before. We already had plans. It would be weird not to bring her.”
“Sure—no, I totally get that.”
Suddenly Garrett was looking at the phone again, sliding a finger into the collar of his shirt and tugging the already open neck for more breathing room. What was with that voice? That sing-songy sort of patronizing amusement?
It was freaking him out.
“I’m serious. Look, it was an accident we even hooked up. I didn’t know who she was or it never would have happened. But then it was too late. And she does know you. And it doesn’t mean anything more than it just makes sense, okay?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his sister laugh so hard. And the sound would have been music to his ears if it hadn’t so very obviously, so totally, been at his expense. To hell with this.
“Enough. Look, Bethany, we’ll be there tonight. Text me the details. I’ve got a building to put up.”
Disconnecting the call, he tried to shrug off the uncomfortable sense that despite everything he’d said, his sister hadn’t heard a word.
It shouldn’t matter what she thought.
It didn’t matter.
Not when, for the first time in as long as he could remember, his life was exactly what he wanted.
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