by K. Marie
“You can sleep as long as you’d like, Camry, you had a tiring night,” Garland told me, eyes alight with naughtiness.
I recalled everything he’d done to me during my tiring night and blushed like a schoolgirl, lowering my gaze.
Garland lifted my chin with a finger and brought my eyes right back to his. “Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart, there’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured me.
Easy for him to say.
My pulse spiked into hyper-drive as he put his lips on mine, his hands gripping my waist and pulling me against his body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Jesus. It didn’t take much for us to be seconds away from damn near ripping our clothes off again.
With what sounded like a heartfelt groan, Garland pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. “Let’s get you fed before I change my mind,” he said with a resigned sigh.
We went onto the deck off the main cabin, walking over to a table already occupied by Greg and The Bitch. I groaned inwardly, having forgotten they were on the boat.
My gaze met unfriendly eyes, but Greg greeted me enthusiastically. “Good afternoon, Sunshine, party too hard?” he teased.
I gave him a mischievous smile. “Yes, quite,” I answered sweetly, taking the seat that Garland pulled out for me.
He waited until I was seated before seating himself; earning points for good manners.
The Bitch, whom I soon learned was named, Leslie, rolled her eyes at my statement.
What in the hell is her problem?
She’d taken an instant dislike to me, and after that little scene last night, I’m guessing it’s because I’m with Garland. But why?
Perhaps there was a history there. Though I still couldn’t figure that one out, considering Greg was Garland’s best friend. Greg seemed like such a friendly, personable guy, I can’t imagine how he got saddled with sourpuss. Must be her looks.
As we ate, Greg entertained us with bizarre stories of his work; as the owner of an investment firm. I studied the contrast between the two friends; they seemed total opposites. Greg was an extroverted, funny, and life of the party type—like an over-grown frat boy. And while Garland undoubtedly had his charm, he seemed naturally introverted, serious in nature. I got the impression that while he’d mastered the art of socialization, he preferred solitude. Garland had that whole quietly self-possessed vibe going on.
Quietly confident and cocksure seemed an apt characterization. I thought cynically.
Throughout lunch, both Garland and I seemed to ignore Leslie, though I doubted she even noticed. She appeared less than interested in the conversation around her; the chick’s facial expression read boredom. I couldn’t help wondering if she was sulking over Garland having rebuffed her last night.
And call me small-minded, but I admitted to feeling a modicum of smug satisfaction over the prospect. But because of her, I felt relief when Greg announced they would be going to pack in preparation to leave.
I’d enjoyed his company, but his girlfriend sucked ass.
Twelve
“What’s with sourpuss? She hates me for some reason,” I asked after Greg and Leslie excused themselves from the table.
Garland cocked an amused brow, no doubt at my sourpuss comment. “Ignore her, I do,” he told me.
I gave him an incredulous look. “That’s a little hard to do when someone’s giving me a death-glare. Why would she do that?” I asked.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows, perhaps jealousy.”
“Why would she be jealous of me?” I questioned skeptically, “She’s tall, blonde, and beautiful.”
Garland studied me thoughtfully, as though surprised by my comment. “She’s not as beautiful as you are, Camry,” he said, looking as if he’d truly meant it.
I smiled appreciatively, not believing a word, but still flattered. “I saw her hanging all over you last night, by the way, and thought maybe she’d had too much to drink. But now I’m not so sure. Does she always throw herself at you like that?” I asked curiously.
“Not always,” he answered bluntly.
“I’m confused, she’s with Greg—your best friend, but she wants you?” I asked in disbelief. What a trash-bag.
“Leslie is shallow, she has no real loyalty to Greg; she’s willing to go with the highest bidder. However, it appears they have a mutually beneficial relationship that works for them,” he said offhandedly.
Wow. Can anybody say, awkward? It seemed a hell of a position to be put in.
“So, are you in trouble with your sister and cousins?” Garland asked, signaling the subject over.
I grunted at the reminder. “I don’t know, probably. I sent a text earlier, letting them know I’m still alive and that you aren’t a serial killer,” I told him jokingly.
“You don’t know that I’m not a serial killer, you could be assuming too much,” he retorted with a wink.
He just might have a point, because he damn sure murdered my pussy last night. I thought humorously, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Are you ready to go face the firing squad?” he asked quietly, considerate of my predicament.
I told him last night my decision to stay with him wouldn’t be well received. “No…not really, but I guess I should get it over with,” I answered reluctantly.
I was hesitant to face my sister, but I also wondered if he were in a hurry to get rid of me. Perhaps I’d slept through check-out time?
Not that him getting rid of me was a problem; I should be just as eager to part ways and put this experience behind me. Though, I didn’t believe for a second, I ever would. Garland won’t be easy to forget.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked unexpectedly.
“I’m not sure, I don’t believe there were any specific plans, perhaps touring or something,” I answered with an unenthusiastic shrug. I wasn’t feeling any particular enthusiasm towards making plans for the day.
“Have you been to the Keys?” he asked next.
“No, I’ve never been, but I hear there's a good time to be had there,” I said with a small smile.
“It can be even more so with the right person, I’ll take you if you’d like to go,” he offered.
Surprised, I willed myself to act all chill as I studied him, mentally working out the implications. I would love to go to the Keys. However, I was more intrigued by the fact that he’d just expressed a subtle interest in seeing me again.
“When?” I asked guardedly, not knowing what to make of it.
It seemed he was interested in changing the terms of our original agreement. Did that mean he just wanted to have sex with me again?
I concluded I wasn’t at all opposed to the idea.
“We can go anytime you want, Camry, we could even leave now if that’s what you wish,” Garland told me, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“I would love to go right now, but I should probably report in first—go face the firing squad,” I told him ruefully.
“I don’t want to take you away from your plans or cause any problems for you, my offer stands for whenever you want,” he assured me.
I couldn’t hold back my smile. Not only is he gorgeous, he’s also very sweet. “Can I let you know in a couple of hours?” I asked, “When would we need to leave?”
“We can leave whenever you want, take as much time as you need,” Garland answered.
He obviously wanted to see me again. And regardless to how ill-advised it might be, I wanted to see him too.
“Thank you,” I told him, doing a stupid little happy-dance on the inside.
Garland rode with me on the smaller boat back to the marina, where he led me to a black Range Rover in the parking lot.
We discussed mundane topics as he maneuvered through traffic on the drive to my hotel. However, I was damn curious about the stranger sitting next to me. I assumed it an unspoken agreement to not get too personal with the questions, considering the one-night stand. But since the ter
ms had clearly changed, did the prospect of us spending more time together dictate I know more about him? Did I need to know more?
Hell yes! Screw it, I’m asking what I want to know. If he was opposed, then perhaps we shouldn’t see each other again.
“I guess I should count myself lucky that you came to my rescue like Captain America on Friday night,” I said.
I was hoping to learn more about him without being too obvious, talking about the nightclub seemed a good starting point.
“Captain America?” Garland asked with a questioning look.
“Yes,” I laughed, “You know, come to save the day and all that.”
He smiled in amusement. “Having to rescue you from that clown was my pleasure, otherwise, I would never have had the pleasure of your company now,” he said.
“Wow, that was really smooth, Mr. Vidov. But must I remind you that after you rescued me from the clown, you quickly turned your back and fled?” I countered.
“I had every intention of leaving you alone; I don’t make a habit of picking up women at nightclubs. I broke one of my own rules that night,” he told me.
I studied his perfect profile, speculating over whether or not to believe him. “Why would you break your own rules for me? Was it my short, tight dress that did it?” I asked jokingly.
Garland slid an amused look my way. “You were in the majority when it came to short, tight dresses in the club that night,” he remarked, not at all answering my question.
Now he had me curious as hell.
Seeing me staring at him, Garland looked over at me; bafflement evident in his eyes. “You have no idea the effect you have on men, do you?” he asked, a rhetorical question.
I eyed him dumbly, woefully ignorant of any particular effect.
“Let me enlighten you on something, Camry, nearly every man in the club was looking at you that night, and I was no exception. You’re beautiful and sexy, the fact that you seem completely unaware of it makes you even more so,” Garland told me.
I sat speechless, not knowing what to say. I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but even if he was prone to over-exaggeration, I felt a warm pleasure sweep through me regardless.
“Um, thank you,” I told him, not really sure his statement actually required a response.
Garland’s smile confirmed my suspicion.
Desperate to shift topic, I remembered him asking whether I were married the night we met and wondered why the ring hadn’t been a deterrent.
“So, the fact that I’m engaged doesn’t bother you?” I asked him.
“Engaged isn’t married,” he answered.
I guess being only engaged made me fair game.
“I think the more important question is, does it bother you?” he asked in turn.
Dammit! Guess I’d set myself up for that one.
I considered his question, searching the depths of my conscience for an answer before reluctantly confessing. “Not as much as it should.”
I was clearly a horrible person.
And then it hit me! “You’re married, right?” I asked, not having considered it before now.
It would make perfect sense though; why would he care about me being promised to someone else if he were as well?
He’s probably got the wife stashed back in Russia some-damn-where.
“Would it matter if I were?” Garland asked, giving me a questioning look.
Not what I wanted to hear.
I felt my stomach drop with disappointment. “Yes, it would, as much of a hypocrite as that makes me,” I told him, acknowledging my double standard.
He quirked a bemused eyebrow. “Well, in that case, no. I’m neither married or engaged,” he said.
I eyed him suspiciously but felt absurdly relieved by his answer. “Girlfriend?” I questioned, covering all the bases.
“No,” he answered with a grin.
I tried to decide whether I believed him. What were the odds of a man like Garland not having a special woman in his life? But considering I’m engaged, I decided to accept his answer at face value.
“Any children?” I asked next, knowing that he at least had a domestic past.
“No,” he responded again, this time with no smile.
Something about his clipped answer gave me pause, but I moved on.
“Well, I should probably lay it all out there for you, give you a fair chance to run,” I said with a smile, only halfway kidding. “I’ve been married and divorced, and I have a five-year-old daughter from the marriage,” I offered, determining he probably deserved full disclosure.
Silence followed, and I could only imagine what he might be thinking. Considering we were only having sex and wouldn’t see each other again, he probably didn’t need to know all of that. But for some inexplicable reason, I wanted him to know.
“You’re a bit young to be working on marriage number-two, what’s the rush?” he asked.
“There is no rush, at least not on my part,” I answered.
“How long have you been engaged?” he asked next.
“Almost a year,” I told him.
He looked at me curiously. “When’s the wedding?”
Good question. “There’s no set date yet, I wanted to hold off until I’d completed my MBA before wedding planning,” I answered, growing suddenly uncomfortable with the topic.
“Huh…a woman who isn’t rushing to make wedding plans, that’s a rarity,” Garland commented.
I knew what he was getting at, it wasn’t the first time I’d heard similar comments. I certainly heard them from John.
“What about you? I can’t be the only one with domestic baggage,” I said, rushing to take the focus off of me.
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
I paused in thought, considering his question. “How can you be so gorgeous and unattached?” I asked, the best thing that I could come up with.
“You think I’m gorgeous?” he questioned, wearing a boyish grin.
Was he frigging kidding me?
He was so damn cute right now, I had to fight the urge to climb into his lap and attack him.
“You are, but I’m fairly sure you’re already aware of that fact,” I told him with a smile.
I knew firsthand he owned a mirror.
“A man’s worth is measured by his success and bank account, not by his looks, so I don’t spend much time analyzing mine,” he told me.
I gave an un-lady-like snort. “I can assure you it wasn’t your success or bank account that got me onto your boat or into your bed. For all I knew, you were penniless,” I retorted.
Garland chuckled, emerald eyes gleaming with humor when he glanced my way.
We pulled in front of the hotel minutes later, and he demanded I stay in the car while he came around to open my door. An endearingly old-fashioned gesture that was nearly obsolete these days.
Outside of bed, the man had impeccable manners.
Once out of the car and standing in front of him, Garland leaned in to kiss me. “Until later, Camry, call me when you’re ready,” he murmured, only centimeters away from my mouth.
I nearly melted into a puddle right there on the street; but managed to keep my dignity and nod my head before heading for the door.
Sigh.
Thirteen
“Have you lost your mind?!” Lauren screeched, as soon as I opened the door to her.
I winced at her abrasive tone but waited for her to finish. “We were calling and texting you for hours, not knowing where the hell you were!” she accused, reprimanding me with her eyes.
“I was with Garland on his boat, I told you that,” I patiently explained, “And I didn’t respond to your texts or calls because I was still asleep and had not received them.”
Lauren has a tendency to overreact. I felt guilty for worrying her, but I was peeved over her reprimanding me like a child.
“I can’t believe you spent the night with that man, you barely know him!” she continued, rant only just getting
started. “Not to mention you seem to have conveniently forgotten you’re engaged to be married—to ANOTHER MAN!”
I took a deep breath, silently counting to ten. I didn’t want this to escalate into a full-on argument.
“Look, Lauren, I know that what I did was not the most responsible, but even I get to do dumb shit every now and then,” I told her defiantly, forgetting my previous resolve.
Because of our ten-year difference in age, and us having lost our mother early, Lauren had often taken on the role of mother with me. She sometimes forgot she was only my sister, and I often resented it. It would be nice to just have her support sometimes, not her judgment.
“I was worried about you, Camry, am worried about you. It's unlike you to do something so reckless and crazy,” she said on a heavy sigh, as though dealing with a small child who just wasn’t getting it.
I watched as she walked over to take a seat on the bed.
As far as I’m concerned, the only thing crazy about my time with Garland was the insane amount of orgasms I had. Okay, and perhaps also the fact that he’d seemingly fucked me into a coma. There was no way in hell I should have slept like that, I hadn’t slept almost eight straight hours in longer than I could remember.
“Garland is an attractive man, so I understand the enticement. But, what in the hell is going on with you and John to make you do something like that?” Lauren asked, concern genuine. “What happens when you return home in a couple of days?”
Her concern had merit, and I knew that she made a valid point. My behavior the past twenty-four hours was uncharacteristic of me. But how could I make her understand something I didn’t understand myself? Besides the obvious attraction between us, I couldn’t honestly answer why I’d been suddenly willing to risk things with John for a night with Garland. I also couldn’t explain my intention of doing it again.
I walked over to take a seat next to Lauren on the bed. “I know that I behaved badly; John doesn’t deserve this. But honestly, this thing with Garland, I just felt that if I didn’t do it I’d always regret it,” I admitted.
