Fall For You: A Reverse Grump Romantic Comedy (A Season's Detour, Book 2)

by Hayleigh Sol

  Garrett ran a gentle hand over the satiny smooth finish of the skirt, asking questions about how difficult it was to make lingerie, if I’d ever thought of designing my own line, when he’d get to see my other pieces.

  It was nice to share that part of me. A hobby I loved but had often felt was a little‌…‌silly, I guess. In the past, I’d immediately dismissed the thought whenever I’d had it, telling myself it was more silly to think a woman only wore lingerie for the man in her life. I liked looking pretty and feeling sexy, even if it was only for me. I had to admit, though, that Garrett’s lingering looks were pretty great.

  Within the space of thirty minutes, he uncovered another of my guilty pleasures.

  “What are you reading?” Garrett was sitting up beside me, each of us with Kindle in hand. Reading in bed was something else I’d never shared with a man but had fantasized about a time or two.

  Not all fantasies involved naked time. Although‌…‌

  “It’s a sexy book.” My shoulders were tense, awaiting the laughter and teasing. It was how Aaron‌—‌and, from what I’d heard, most men‌—‌would have reacted. If Aaron had ever bothered to ask what I was reading.

  Which wasn’t limited to superheated romance, by the way. My tastes were eclectic; the book I’d read before this one was a nail‌–‌biting thriller about a serial killer.

  Is it bad when you start defending your reading habits in your own head?

  “A sexy book, huh? Like romance?”

  I couldn’t detect any judgment in his expression, but the smile might’ve been a touch mocking; it seemed at least a little patronizing. “Yes, a steamy contemporary romance. Before you say anything, I’ll have you know that some of my best material has been inspired by the naughty scenes I’ve read in books. And I haven’t heard any complaints from you, mister.”

  He chuckled and held up a hand. “Hey, I’m all about taking inspiration wherever you can. I’m just shocked that you read romance. Isn’t that blasphemous?”

  My brow wrinkled. We’d already covered the fact that neither of us was religious.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’m referring, of course, to your single‌–‌for‌–‌life doctrine.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed that he was more curious than judging. “I read in lots of genres, usually depending on my mood. With romance”‌—‌my shoulders shifted, head tilted as I thought of how to explain it‌—‌“I guess I like to imagine a world where happily‌–‌ever‌–‌after is possible. A world where men don’t cheat and lie. No offense.”

  He laughed wryly. “None taken, I guess.”

  “Actually, I’ve been reminded recently that women can be just as guilty of infidelity.” I was still so surprised by my mother’s big revelation even though, logically, I knew I shouldn’t be. “People are capable of doing truly awful things to each other. That’s why I like these books. The honeymoon period never ends.”

  Garrett rested a hand on my leg. “You really don’t believe two people can fall in love and stay that way? That there are some who don’t do awful things to each other? Sure, a relationship won’t always be perfect, but if you mean enough to each other, you stick around and you work on it. Together.”

  His conviction made my throat itchy and my eyes burn. I swallowed and turned away from him, blinking rapidly. “I don’t know. That’s not the kind of relationship I’ve known or seen. Maybe”‌—‌I had to swallow again over the thick emotion that had come from out of nowhere, my voice sounding strangled even after I had‌—‌“maybe there’s a small part of me that hopes what you’re saying is possible.”

  The hand on my thigh squeezed lightly. “It’s okay to let yourself believe that, you know. It doesn’t make you weak.”

  I laughed, even though he’d so easily read me once again. “Yeah, weakness isn’t allowed in my vocabulary.”

  “But sometimes, with the right people, it’s okay to be vulnerable.”

  Teasing him that he sounded like a total chick was easier than wrestling with the emotion his innocent question about my reading material had stirred. I caught the crease between his brows at my deflection but, as usual, he allowed me to keep it light.

  That was one thing I lo‌—‌liked. One thing I liked about Garrett. He didn’t push, didn’t make me talk, too much, about things I didn’t want to.

  When I asked him about his own book, his eyes lit up and he proceeded to summarize what he’d read so far, even giving me backstory on the previous books in the series. He was the epitome of geeking out on a story and it was completely adorable. By the end of his monologue, I wanted to read the books myself.

  “Maybe we can read the next one together.”

  The words had tumbled out before I’d realized they were there. Planning for future events with my non‌–‌boyfriend dude wasn’t something I did. Although, I hadn’t really attempted a non‌–‌relationship situation like this before. Maybe this was how it was done.

  Garrett certainly seemed to like the idea, judging by the smile he gave me. We sealed the deal with a kiss that turned into more. Between hungry liplocks, he confessed he’d been distracted by my lingerie the entire time we were reading. Evidently, he was an even bigger fan than I’d realized. So much so that he told me to leave it on. Being told what to do in bed by a man who wasn’t normally the bossy type‌—‌and I wasn’t exactly the passive type‌—‌was incredibly hot.

  I could get used to this exclusive non‌–‌relationship thing.

  Particularly when it involved breakfast the next morning made by a five‌–‌star chef. An accolade I’d discovered in my initial light internet stalking. Both his restaurant, Bite Me, and Garrett had earned the distinction the past three years running, though I couldn’t recall which food guide had awarded the honor.

  He’d told me once before about his mixed feelings on the Michelin three‌–‌star system. Apparently, several major names in the food world were returning their stars or requesting to be left out of the guide. I could appreciate that. The opinions of whoever judged a business and, in Garrett’s case, a creator were so subjective. I’d had my fair share of glowing and not‌–‌so glowing reviews of my own business. As Garrett had said, constant pressure to please everyone stifled passion and creativity. Which adversely affected the end result.

  That drive to innovate, to take a chance on something new and unexpected, was what made his restaurants so popular. And what made him‌—‌I mean, his cooking, so exciting and special.

  After breakfast, I was so stuffed all I wanted to do was stretch out and lapse into a food coma. Garrett tried to convince me to go for a walk along the waterfront, pulling on my arm until I relented and abandoned my comfy position on his couch. Aside from taking my plate into the kitchen, I hadn’t helped with cleanup at all. At the chef’s insistence. He was spoiling me and I ate it up.

  Ohhh, don’t think about eating.

  We held hands as we walked and talked and, unlike the previous weekend away with the watchful eyes of our friends, I was able to relax into what was practically a novelty for me. Morning bled into afternoon and neither of us hinted at my returning to my own place. When I finally did mention it later in the day, Garrett found a way to keep me.

  “I like having you around, just hangin’ out with me.” His smile teased out mine. “Do you have anything you need to do at home this weekend?”

  My shoulder shrugged against his where we were sitting side‌–‌by‌–‌side on the sofa, chuckling over old music videos playing on tv. “Not really. But, I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

  “Nah, that’d never happen.” I twisted my lips into a skeptical half‌–‌frown. “Okay, how about this? I’ll let you know if I get sick of you and kick you out. Right onto that very fine ass.”

  Laughing, I told him that was acceptable, and we spent the rest of the day doing‌…‌not much of anything. I couldn’t have accounted for where the hours went, but I didn’t care. For the first time since
my ex‌–‌fiancé, I spent a second consecutive night with a man. Who tangled his legs around mine while I combed my fingers through his soft hair.

  I’d warned Garrett when we’d gone to bed that I had to set an alarm for Sunday morning. Boot camp was on and I was looking forward to it after missing the previous weekend and my crew.

  “Can I boot camp, too?”

  “Do you really want to? I’m pretty tough.” I gave him an assessing look over my shoulder as I wrangled a boob tourniquet over my chest. Never a graceful move.

  He laughed as he shoved the covers aside and unfolded his sculpted body from bed. “Of course you’re tough, I’d expect nothing less.” Dropping a kiss on my cheek, he reached for the boxers he’d dropped last night. “That’s why I wanna come.”

  So Garrett accompanied me to the park, where I introduced him to the masochistic group I adored.

  “Alright, everyone. I warn you right now today’s gonna be a monster, we’re making up for last weekend’s drunken debauchery.”

  A collective groan went up as we warmed up and I spotted Garrett’s smile from the middle of the pack.

  “What about those of us who didn’t partake? We didn’t all have bachelorette weekend, you know.” Lydia, who was as sassy as she was hardworking, panted through burpees.

  “Them’s the breaks, my friend. You don’t hear the newbie complaining, do you?”

  Lydia glanced at Garrett dropping to the ground next to her, then met my eye with an evil glint in hers as we jumped up and I switched everyone to scissor kicks. “Looks like a ringer to me. Where’d you find him, anyway? And where can I get one?”

  The hunk in question laughed out loud and I mock‌–‌scowled his way. “Hey, there’s no laughing in boot camp. If you have breath‌…‌”

  “Do another rep,” the group chorused.

  Jack mumbled off to my left.

  “Was that commentary from the peanut gallery?” I asked as I moved his way.

  “Just said we gotta get you a shirt with that phrase, Sir!”

  I chuckled and shook my head at him, moving around the group as we changed to high knees.

  “Thought there was no laughing in boot camp. Sir.”

  “Ah, newbie, you fit right in already.” Garrett’s smile fell when I told him to drop and give me twenty push‌–‌ups for his smart mouth.

  After forty‌–‌five minutes of torture, my own legs were jello and the normally teasing scowls around the group were looking more genuine. Fearing for my safety in the parking lot, I called cool‌–‌down five minutes early and had to remind half the class to get up off the grass, where they’d sprawled in various states of agony, and keep moving.

  Even Garrett wasn’t smiling anymore.

  As he walked me to our cars, I found myself dragging my feet. Not just because they felt like bricks from the workout, but because I was disappointed he was heading home.

  “Great class, drill sergeant. I had no idea it was gonna be that intense.” He looked at me under the towel he was wiping over his forehead. “And I know you.”

  I smiled, but I was distracted.

  “What do you usually do now, shower and breakfast? Sharpen your Ka‌–‌Bar knife? Do a bed check for hospital corners?”

  “Funny. If I’m near a bed, I promise I’ll be collapsing onto it. I definitely need a shower, though; sorry if I’m offensive right now.” I wanted to kiss him goodbye, give him something to think about until the next time we saw each other. But there was no way I wanted that something to be my eye‌–‌watering aroma.

  “You smell great.” I rolled my eyes at that, maintaining a healthy distance. “Okay, maybe not great, but surely no worse than I do right now. Mind if I invite myself to your place for a hose down?”

  Relieved that he wasn’t leaving yet, I stepped close long enough to drop a kiss on his lips. “Follow me. I’ll even feed you this time.”

  So we ended up spending another day together, this time in my neighborhood and on my couch. And in my bed, which, as it turned out, was not only for sleep and boot camp recovery.

  Chapter 23

  Disaster struck midweek. Tracie called, then sent a panicky text message when I hadn’t answered.

  Tracie: Venue flooded from burst pipe, must find new one stat! Help!

  I called and, as expected, she was stressed but not on the verge of a breakdown. The main problem was that rearranging her or Noah’s schedules on such short notice was a nightmare. A necessary one so they could tour the only option with availability, after a serendipitous cancellation, for Thanksgiving weekend.

  “Why don’t I head out there tonight?” I volunteered. She’d shown me pictures of the place they were supposed to get married and I knew what was important to her and what wasn’t.

  “Are you sure?” The hopeful relief in her voice was unmistakable.

  I promised her it was no trouble. “Hey, maybe I’ll even make your brother come along. Best man that he is, he should have to participate in these kinds of things, right?”

  So Garrett and I headed to the coast and the sweet little inn with sweeping views of the Pacific that would normally be booked solid eighteen months in advance. We had plans to see each other already since he had a rare evening off and I’d finished with my last client early. The timing for a venue‌–‌related disaster was ideal, as disasters go.

  “Tell me about this odd couple that runs the place. You talked to them this afternoon?” Garrett was driving, his right hand alternating between holding my hand and resting above my knee.

  “Eccentric, not odd. Charmingly eccentric, I’d say. Their names are Lois and Clark but she likes to call him Superman and he calls her his kryptonite.” I’d found out this little tidbit in the first fifteen seconds of speaking with the husband, who’d first taken my call.

  Garrett smiled. “Cute.”

  “Oh, they were very cute. Until they started telling me about the strange noises guests have reported hearing.” Garrett’s eyebrows raised. “Yep, they very cheerfully told me the place is haunted. But, not to worry, all the spirits seem friendly. And they especially like weddings.”

  He chuckled. “Oh boy, Tracie’s gonna love this place.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Clark and Lois were a delightful older couple, who greeted us warmly as soon as we walked in the front door of the Victorian an ancestor had converted to the inn it had been for the past seventy years. They gave us a tour of the main level, a guest room, and the grounds, where a gazebo overlooking the crashing waves far below would be the site of the ceremony.

  It was beautiful, ideal for an intimate wedding, and I could see why they were booked so far in advance. I was certain Tracie and Noah would fork over a deposit the minute I told them about the place, which was a good thing, since another waitlisted couple was planning to scope it out on Saturday. While Clark showed Garrett the kitchen, and they discussed what the catering company would need to supply themselves, I pulled Lois aside.

  “So, what happened with the booking you had for that weekend? Somebody cheat on somebody or did one of them just get cold feet?”

  Lois laughed. “No, dear, quite the opposite. Apparently, they couldn’t wait any longer and decided to elope in the Bahamas. It was really very romantic, from what the bride’s mother told us.”

  Huh, go figure.

  After snapping photos of everything I thought Tracie and Noah might want to see, and asking the questions Ashley had emailed me earlier, I got down to the dirt I knew Tracie would really care about.

  “Alright, tell me all about these hauntings. And don’t skip any details.”

  Friday afternoon, I had a meeting scheduled with Noah’s marketing team. Ostensibly, the final one before my soft launch in a few days. Once any issues or catastrophes‌—‌Lord, don’t let there be any of the latter‌—‌were fixed, my new app and website would have their true launch over the busiest shopping weekend of the year, starting with Black Friday.

  Noah had texted me
last night to say he’d meet me in the lobby and join us for the meeting. I suspected he rarely sat in on something at this level and was surprised, but grateful, that he’d offered. National‌–‌level marketing was a much larger beast than anything I’d tackled before. His experience and influence as CEO, as well as the comfort of having a friendly face present, were welcome.

  I’d warmed to Noah, and the idea of him marrying my friend, over the weekend we’d all spent on Martha’s Vineyard and, if I was honest, even before that. Hard not to, when it was obvious how happy he seemed to make Tracie.

  The company’s offices‌—‌one of several branches that comprised Noah’s growing empire‌—‌were located halfway between San Jose and downtown San Francisco and, perhaps not so coincidentally, an aggressive stone’s throw from another well known tech giant. I wondered if Noah had chosen the location aspirationally or if his board had been enticed by favorable property taxes. As I entered the building I’d been directed to at the front gate, I shuddered to think what property taxes on a place like this would be. My own triple net fees for the space I leased on Santana Row were painfully high, and climbing every year.

  An enormous desk with a matched set of navy‌–‌blazer‌–‌wearing male and female receptionists greeted me. With matching smiles.

  The woman looked to be speaking into a headset, so I veered left. When I gave my name, Henry, as his nametag suggested‌—‌I amused myself imagining he’d donned someone else’s tag for his own amusement today‌—‌nodded to a seating area I hadn’t seen at first. “Mr. Bedford notified us you’d be in. He’s just over there with his assistant, if you’d like to join them.” I declined the beverage he offered and headed toward the back of what looked like the bossman’s head.

  “‌—‌can’t believe it. You’re the best, Jessica. Really, just amazing.”

  So this was the CEO‌–‌wrangling assistant.

  Tracie was spot‌–‌on in her description as the younger woman did seem to have a rockin’ body, from what I could see. I noted that the cut of her suit was conservative while maintaining flattering lines, which impressed me. She exuded a professional and capable aura and I wondered how many of her colleagues judged her primarily on her looks. It was human nature, of course, but I knew from a few of my more attractive clients how frustrating it could be for a woman with a brain to feel she’d been heard rather than simply seen.