Just Like This

by Rebecca Gallo

  I pulled out my cell phone and opened up my messages. I wanted her to know before I left. I wanted to be honest with her.

  ME: I’m in love with you.

  ME: I’m not sorry I took you from Palmer.

  ME: I promise to love you fiercely until I take my last breath.

  “Whoa, dude.” Jackson’s voice startled me. I looked up from my phone to see him staring in horror at my phone. “Are you texting Cami?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “She needs to know how I feel.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” His eyes roamed around the empty bottles and shot glasses that now littered our table. We’d only gone through two rounds, but there were more than four bottles on the table. Fuck. How could I lose track like that?

  “What if I die, Jackson? What if I die during our next scouting assignment, and she never even knows?”

  Jackson held his hands up in mock surrender. “That’s heavy shit. I’m not going to get into that with you right now. But I am smart enough to tell you that you shouldn’t be texting a girl drunk.”

  My phone buzzed in my hand. I didn’t want to open the messages because I didn’t want to be disappointed. Even drunk, I knew it was stupid to tell Cami I loved her. It buzzed again and again until Jackson reached forward and pulled it out of my hands.

  “She’s worried about you. She wants to know where you are,” he informed me. “What’s this place called?” Jackson looked around the bar before finding its name. He typed out a message and then slid the phone across the tabletop to me. “Give me your keys.”

  “What?”

  “Cami is coming to get you. Give me your keys so I can head back to Palmer’s.”

  Reluctantly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key. I handed them over as I muttered, “I’m not even that drunk.”

  “You might not be that drunk, but you’re a little fucked up right now. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

  The door to the bar opened, bringing in the aroma of jasmine. Even the stale smells of the bar couldn’t hide Cami’s familiar scent. I looked up and spotted her walking swiftly toward our booth. She was a woman on a mission.

  “Are you okay?” Cami asked breathlessly through a narrowed gaze.

  “He’s had a little too much truth serum tonight,” Jackson told her. He stood and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. Jackson threw a few bills down on the table before clapping me on the back. “I’ll put your stuff in Cami’s car. Good luck, man.”

  Cami nodded her acknowledgment and took his place across from me in the booth. She reached out and shook each of the nearly empty bottles. Disappointment flashed across her face. She held up a finger, signaling to me. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  It was a matter of seconds before she returned with what looked like a margarita on the rocks. “What happened with Palmer?”

  I launched into a full recount, telling her everything including how he blindsided me with a punch to the gut. I loved the way she scrambled over to my side of the booth out of concern. Her fingers tangled in my T-shirt, lifting the hem slightly to check for bruising. Her fingers brushed lightly along the sore spot, and I flinched.

  “There’s definitely going to be a bruise,” she murmured.

  “Then I guess you won’t be riding me tonight.” The remark was totally crass, but my tongue was loose, and she was so close that all I could think about was tossing her up on top of the table and fucking her senseless.

  “Garrett.” She scowled up at me and let my T-shirt fall back down. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “Thank you for coming.”

  “What’s Palmer’s problem?” Cami grumbled, reaching across the table for her drink. She took a long sip before looking me square in the eye. “There’s never been anything between us.”

  “I know, but Palmer isn’t ready to admit that, and I swooped in before he could take another chance.”

  “You’re both acting like I’m a possession. Fighting over me like I’m a toy or something.”

  “Cami, you are mine. I don’t care how much of a caveman that makes me.” I reached up and threaded my fingers through her hair before leaning down to brand her with my kiss.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cami

  “I have something kind of awkward to ask,” Garrett said quietly once we left the bar and were in the car headed back to my house. I was itching to ask him about his text messages, to have him say the words he had typed aloud, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much influence the liquid courage provided by alcohol had on his bold declaration. When he finally said them to me, he needed to be stone-cold sober.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  “Can I stay in your guest house until I deploy? Palmer kind of kicked me out.”

  Under my breath, I muttered, “Asshole.” Palmer seriously needed to grow up and get a clue. There was never going to come a day when I was going to change my mind. He needed to accept that and move on. Otherwise, we couldn’t be friends.

  “Yes, of course,” I told him. “I kind of have a favor of my own to ask.”

  “Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

  I winced. “You should probably wait until you know what it is first.”

  “Fine. What can I help you with?”

  “I’d like you to meet my father,” I said timidly.

  The car became uncomfortably silent, and I didn’t have to look at Garrett to know he wasn’t expecting me to ask that.

  “He asked about you today,” I elaborated. “He wanted to know if you’re handy around the house.”

  Garrett chuckled softly. “I know enough to get by. Why did he ask?”

  I explained to him how Valerie embarrassed me when we went to visit my dad. “I didn’t really want to tell him,” I admitted. “But I think he wants to know that I’ll be taken care of after he’s gone.”

  Garrett reached across the console and plucked one of my hands from the steering wheel. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it gently. “Then yes, of course, I’ll meet him.”

  When we arrived at my house, I unlocked the guest house for Garrett and left him to get settled before walking across the driveway to the main house. I told him to meet me out back when he was ready. While I waited, I prepared dinner for us. Soon, Garrett’s shadowed figure appeared outside, and I watched him through the windows, enthralled by his handsomeness and the way his body moved as he lit a fire in the backyard.

  It was so easy to deny that what I felt for him was love because he scared me. In a matter of days, he would be halfway around the world, risking his life on a daily basis. My hands trembled as I chopped vegetables; my mind raced as I thought about the worst possibility. If he died, no one would tell me. I’d be completely alone in my grief. My thoughts distracted me, and when I felt the blade of the knife slice across my hand, I yelped in pain and surprise.

  “Shit!” I hurried over to the sink and ran my bleeding hand under the water. Garrett noticed my panic and rushed inside.

  “What happened?” he asked, his voice thick with concern. He was quick, grabbing my hand and wrapping it in a paper towel.

  “I wasn’t paying attention,” I explained. “I was thinking about…” I let my voice trail off for a moment before I said, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

  Gently, Garrett unfolded the paper towel that covered my hand and ran it back under the water. He dabbed it gently with a clean towel before inspecting it carefully. “I don’t think it’s deep enough for stitches. Do you have a first-aid kit?”

  I nodded. “In the bathroom.” I showed him the way as he walked with my hand still cradled in his. He directed me to sit down on the toilet seat and, when he found the kit, started carefully cleaning and bandaging my cut.

  “What were you thinking about?” Garrett asked softly.

  “You,” I confessed. “I’m scared.”

  “I know. You told me.”

  I shook my head. “No. What if you die, Garrett?” My que
stion was unexpected, and he looked up at me, his eyes large and dark. “I love you, and who’s going to tell me if you die? Who’s going to know that I love you? That you’re mine just as much as I’m yours? That scares me, Garrett, so much. I’m already losing one man I love. I can’t lose another.”

  My voice was on the verge of hysterical, and my words came out too quickly, almost incoherent, but Garrett knew; he understood. The next words that bubbled up were immediately swallowed by Garrett’s crushing kiss. His large hands slid under my jaw, cupping it as he devoured every fear that threatened to surface. My uninjured hand twisted in the front of his shirt, and I pulled him closer, returning his kiss with my own ferocity.

  “You might just be the death of me,” Garrett said breathlessly, breaking our kiss.

  I grinned in reply, but it quickly faded when I noticed Garrett’s grim expression.

  “I’m scared too, Cami. But you can walk away. I won’t ask you to make this kind of commitment.”

  I slipped my uninjured hand into his and squeezed. “I’m not leaving. I’ve wanted something just like this for a long time, and now that I have it, I won’t just give it up.”

  Garrett’s smile was slight, but he looked relieved. “Thank fuck, because walking away really wasn’t an option.”

  He reached for the hand that was bandaged and checked it before leading me back into the kitchen. I finished preparing dinner under Garrett’s watchful eye. He was quick to help out when one hand wouldn’t suffice, and he helped me carry the dishes out to the patio. The fire in the pit was burning bright and hot, providing a comforting warmth to the chill from the bay.

  “How’s your side?” I pointed my fork in his direction, and his hand absently touched the spot where Palmer hit him.

  “It’s tender, but it will be okay. It’s not like I haven’t been in a fight before.”

  “But Palmer is your best friend.”

  Garrett wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back his chair. “And he’s your best friend too. What should we do about that?”

  “It’s his problem. He just needs some time and space.”

  “But what if he doesn’t come around?”

  “Do you want me to talk to him or something?”

  “Maybe we both should talk to him,” Garrett suggested.

  I disagreed. “No. I’ll talk to him in the morning. I don’t want this to come between your friendship before you leave.”

  “How’s your hand?” His eyes flicked to my bandaged hand that rested on the table.

  “I’ll survive. I’ve had worse.” Garrett looked surprised, so I told him about the time I received second-degree burns on my palm from touching the inside of a pizza oven.

  “I have a surprise,” Garrett announced. He held up his finger, silently telling me to wait and disappeared inside the house. He was gone for longer than I expected, leaving me wondering where he went when he reappeared with a bottle of wine and a blanket.

  “This is Hammond Winery’s finest bottle of rosé,” he announced, setting the wine down in front of me with such a flourish that I burst out laughing. He opened the bottle of wine with practiced ease. Before pouring, he nodded toward the dock that jutted out into the bay. “Let’s go sit out there.”

  The night was clear, which was why, despite it being summer, the air felt chilly. The bright moon illuminated the subtle waves of the bay and the path down toward the dock. We walked to the very end, and Garrett spread out the blanket over the worn and weathered wood before we sat.

  “I forgot the glasses,” he admitted with an embarrassed smile. He held out the bottle toward me, and I accepted it, taking a sip. It was delicious; cool and crisp with a hint of strawberry. I tilted the bottle in Garrett’s direction, offering it to him, but he held up a hand to decline.

  “It’s delicious,” I said. “Tell me more about your family’s winery.”

  I listened as Garrett talked about his dad inheriting the property from a great-uncle who let it fall into disrepair and how he turned it around into a profitable winery. Excitement filled his voice as he talked about the varietals that grew on the hundreds of acres of land his family owned and how he hoped to transform his family’s winery into a more sustainable operation.

  “There are a few completely green wineries. I just haven’t had the time to study them, but when I come back, that’s what I want to do. I might have to work hard to convince my dad though. And Oliver.”

  “It sounds like a good plan,” I told him.

  “I’d like you to be a part of it.”

  “You do?” I was surprised but relieved. There was always the possibility that when he thought of his future, I wasn’t in it. Still, I’d been hopeful.

  “Unless you don’t want to leave Washington. Hammond Winery could always expand.” Seeing this handsome man, so perfectly sculpted and lean with tattoos covering his body, nervous was comforting. The fierceness of our emotions and the newness of our relationship made me a little anxious. Maybe Garrett felt the same way. He lifted my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles reverently before a shy smile ghosted his lips. “Or we could start an entirely new label together.”

  “No, I think after… I think I’ll want to leave Washington. There’s so much of this world I haven’t seen because I haven’t let myself explore too far.” Thinking about a life without my father was hard, but I could force myself to start if I imagined Garrett beside me.

  “Oh. Maybe you’d rather do that, then?”

  I laughed softly at his insecurity. “Maybe we could do it together? France, Germany, Australia? You could learn all about sustainable wine production while I learn all about baking.”

  Garrett grinned, and his shoulders sagged with relief. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

  We finished off the bottle of rosé, passing it back and forth until our smiles came easily and our hands started to wander. I laid back against the soft blanket and tugged on the back of Garrett’s shirt, inviting him to join me. I curled against him and let myself listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a familiar melody because my heart pounded out the same song.

  My hands leisurely explored the hard planes of his body, softly touching and caressing. There was no expectation beyond enjoying the night together, but below the surface, I was humming with need. One kiss, one touch—it wouldn’t take much for me to come alive for him. Garrett turned onto his side and let his hand rest on the curve of my hip.

  “What do you want?” he whispered.

  My response was silent, just a mischievous grin and a glimmer in my eye.

  “Tell me,” Garrett demanded softly.

  “I’d rather show you,” I replied, my voice husky and thick.

  “That sounds like the perfect plan.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cami

  We walked slowly through the house, turning off lights and placing dishes in the sink while trading heated glances and knowing smiles. Garrett stopped me often to place light kisses on my neck or to push me against a wall and sear my lips with his kiss. Eventually, we made our way out to the guest house. The scene of Nikki sitting on the couch, waiting to take Garrett’s cock into her mouth, unfolded in front of me, and I knew I wanted to erase it from my memory for good. I led him to the living room and sat down in the same spot where she had sat. I reached up and grasped his belt buckle in my hands and slowly slid the leather through the metal clasp. My fingers worked nimbly to undo the button of his fly. Before I reached inside, I looked up at him with my eager eyes.

  “I want your cock in my mouth.” The words seemed unfamiliar and foreign as they passed through my lips, but I meant them. My mouth watered, eagerly waiting to get its first taste.

  Garrett looked down at me through his hooded gaze. I took my time pushing aside his jeans and then tugged down the black boxer briefs. His cock jutted out in front of him, hard and heavy. I licked my lips once before reaching out to grasp it loosely in my hand. I could feel my own wetness soak the thin fa
bric of my panties. Just the thought of his taste on my tongue had me on edge. My tongue darted out of my mouth, and I got my first taste. It was heaven, and I immediately went back for more.

  Greedily, I took him deep into my mouth. There was no getting used to his size first. It was all or nothing, and I definitely wanted all of him. He hissed sharply, and his fingers delved into my thick, tangled curls. The more I devoured, the harder he tugged, which only encouraged me. I tasted every inch of him, running my tongue up and down the thick shaft and over the smooth crown.

  “Cami,” he groaned. “Cami, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

  I let his cock fall from my lips for a second, giving him a moment to catch his breath. And then I took him deep into my mouth again before letting it slip back out.

  “Jesus. You’re fucking amazing.” Garrett gripped his cock tightly in his fist and ran the crown along the seam of my lips, teasing me with it before sliding it back inside my hungry mouth. He fed me slowly, tormenting me with a taste before pulling himself out. He was in control now, which made me restless. I squirmed against the couch, eager for a little friction between my legs.

  “I think I want to come on your tits,” he said thoughtfully, looking down at me with a devilish grin. “Take off your shirt.”

  I was obedient, removing my T-shirt first and then my bra. He reached down and roughly palmed one of my breasts before groaning in frustration. “Lie back,” he instructed me.

  I shifted my position and stretched out lengthwise on the couch while Garrett swiftly worked to remove his jeans and underwear. After tugging off his T-shirt, he stood in front of me gloriously naked. I had a completely unobstructed view of his perfect body. The tattoos on his chest and stomach, the scars that were undoubtedly battle wounds, the lean muscles. “You’re beautiful,” I murmured.

  Garrett placed one knee between my body and the couch and straddled me with one foot still firmly planted on the floor. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. “So are you,” he whispered.