by K. Marie
By the time we’d showered, dressed, and exited the bedroom as though we’d done the routine many times before, it was nearly noon.
After descending the stairs, I followed Garland through a tall arched doorway that led to a long hallway. The entire left side of the hallway was a panoramic wall of windows; that looked out onto a beautiful, colorfully flowered garden. To the right—and bracketed by two stoned columns, was the entrance to a large living room with floor to ceiling windows on either side of a large fireplace. The ceilings throughout the lower level towered, and the theme continued as we passed several darkened rooms and closed doors, before finally arriving in a kitchen.
The kitchen could only be described as a chef’s dream; with espresso colored cabinets, stainless appliances, and light-gray marble countertops and matching island. Three tall, gray leather chairs surrounded the island, and a strategically placed skylight gave off tons of natural light above it. There were two sets of French doors at the far wall; through which I spied a swimming pool. Its aquamarine water glistened with the rays of sunshine penetrating its surface.
I was drawn to it like a beacon.
Walking over to get a closer look, I saw that beyond the pool, Garland’s home had the ocean damn near in its backyard.
“What a beautiful view,” I said in awe, taking in the picturesque backdrop of the Atlantic. It was no less than breathtaking.
Finally tearing my eyes away from the beautiful sight outdoors, I turned to look at the rest of the space. There was a connecting Great Room with large cream furnishings and natural looking hardwood floors. Another set of French doors stood at its center, with a wall of windows attached at either side of them.
“You have a beautiful home, Garland, the kitchen looks as if it's never been used,” I told him.
“Thank you. And the kitchen does receive some use, not daily, but it doesn’t go to waste,” he responded.
“Do you cook?” I questioned skeptically, having trouble picturing him doing such a thing.
“I can make eggs and toast, which is all the skill I need for breakfast,” he answered haughtily, as though affronted by my doubt.
He was just too damn cute. “Then it’s a good thing breakfast is the only meal you need,” I allowed, deadpanned.
“I do have a chef, Camry, I don’t starve,” he returned with an amused smile.
I walked over to the island to take a seat on one of the stools. “I see you have a dock and a lot of space back there, why don’t you dock your huge boat in the backyard?” I asked, hitching a thumb in that direction. I could see a smaller boat tethered to the dock off in the distance.
“The water isn’t deep enough at this end for a vessel that large. Besides, I wouldn’t want my crew having to traipse all over my property every time I wanted to take it out,” he answered, which made total sense.
“I assume you live here alone?” I inquired.
I hadn’t seen the entirety of the house, but from what I’d seen already, it was impressively large. I can’t imagine why one person would need so much space.
“You assume correctly,” he confirmed.
The man obviously liked his space.
Eyeing him with deliberation, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs, giving him an expectant look.
Of course, he got distracted by my yellow sundress riding up my thigh, but after a beat, lifted an eyebrow in question. “Am I missing something?” he asked in bafflement.
I nodded my head in the affirmative. “You brought me to the kitchen, so feed me,” I commanded. “And preferably no gummy bears.”
Garland barked a laugh. “I have no idea what you mean,” he lied.
I gave him a knowing look. “I know all about your dirty little habit, but your secret’s safe with me,” I told him with a sly wink.
He’d just failed my little gummy bear test miserably. The fact that he denied it only confirmed it. Personally, I found his gummy bear habit freaking adorable.
“Deny it all you want, but I can imagine several erotic scenarios involving you, me, and a pack of gummy bears,” I teased, voice dropping to a seductive whisper. And then I ruined it by laughing.
Garland grinned as he walked over to where I sat and kissed me on the lips. “Food coming right up, slave-driver,” he said affectionately.
Drip!
That would be the sound of my heart melting onto the floor.
I watched as Garland got to work as promised, though honestly, I’d only been kidding about the food. But I wasn’t about to stop him.
I liked seeing the playful side of him and would wager it wasn’t a side people often got to glimpse. I’ve grown comfortable with Garland, but admit to having been somewhat intimidated at first.
He seemed unapproachable, and damn sure unattainable.
Had I seen him on the streets prior to last Friday night, I would’ve believed the chances of me catching his eye to be zilch. Not that I didn’t believe myself fairly attractive—I’d been referred to as pretty my entire life. A fact that always annoyed the hell out of me.
But Garland was like one of those men you could only admire from afar; sort of like a celebrity crush. Someone too important to ever get close to. But here I was, sitting in his kitchen, watching him cook for me.
And I was duly impressed too. The man showed kitchen competence as he moved around the space quite efficiently.
Garland removed his black suit jacket and rolled back his shirtsleeves in the process, but the image of him cooking for me in his expensive-looking business clothes was just too damn sexy to stop watching.
So, I just sat gawking, as Garland managed to scramble eggs without burning them, and produced perfectly browned and buttered toast. I couldn’t believe he’d actually done it...or that he actually knew where the pots and pans were kept.
But once we were both seated with our plates in front of us, along with glasses of orange juice, I fessed-up. “I’m sorry, it was rude of me not to help, but I was enjoying the view a little too much,” I said with a grin.
“It's my pleasure to serve you, Camry, in more ways than one,” he said with a devilish wink.
I shook my head over his one-track dirty mind.
Turning my attention to my plate, I took a bite of the eggs, and groaned in appreciation. “These are good, I’m impressed,” I told him, chewing enthusiastically. The eggs were cooked perfectly.
“Don’t sound so surprised, my talents do extend beyond the bedroom,” he said with a cocky grin.
“And here I thought you just a pretty face,” I scoffed.
Twenty-One
“Camry, about our conversation last night—I handled that badly, and I’d like to apologize,” Garland said, just minutes before arriving at my hotel.
Neither of us had broached the subject since last night; I was in fact studiously avoiding it. I thought he was as well.
“I’d like an opportunity to explain myself more clearly. I’ve got a couple of meetings already scheduled, but I should be available in a few hours. Can I take you to an early dinner this evening?” he asked.
I remembered everything he’d said in the car last night and knew that I was in way over my head with him. What started out as insane attraction and a one-night stand seem to have quickly morphed into something more. I just didn’t know what.
“Sure, Garland, just text and let me know what time,” I told him in a lowered voice; as not to be overheard upfront by Viktor.
I didn’t know why I cared, it just felt strange to have someone be privy to my every word. I didn’t think it was something I could ever grow used to.
Garland and I spent the remainder of the ride in silence, and by the time we pulled in front of the hotel, I felt both nervous and unsettled. I worried over what Garland’s expectations might be. Because though we’d done other things in the process, our past few days together were filled with sex.
Admittedly, unbelievably mind-blowing sex, but sex nonetheless. I guess I feared him making me some sort of in
decent proposal.
Climbing out of the car, Garland came around to open my door; again, proving himself a gentleman. But once I was standing in front of him, he eyed me cautiously, as though I were a frightened animal about to bolt.
I smiled, thinking perhaps I hadn’t been so great at masking my feelings. “Until later, handsome,” I told him, stealing his one-liner.
As I walked away, I threw a look over my shoulder to see Garland smiling at my retreating back.
Good Lord. My head pounded even more by the minute as I sat listening to Lauren’s reprimanding rant. And worse, Marie just sat next to me on the bed looking like a damn spectator.
I texted Lauren earlier this morning to tell her I was with Garland, but ignored her texts ever since. Now, on top of being inconsiderate for not answering her every text, I was also irresponsible and foolish.
My eyes traveled back down to the newspaper clutched in my hand, and I stared once again in disbelief. Lauren picked up a copy of the local newspaper in the hotel lobby this morning and got the shock of her life.
There was a photo of me displayed on page three. The photo is of Garland and me while in Key West, frolicking around in the water at the beach. Garland stood pressed behind me with his right arm wrapped around my waist, while I looked to have my head thrown back in laughter.
The caption read, “Vidov Spotted In Key West With Mystery Woman.”
That would be me, of course.
“Wealthy businessman and confirmed bachelor, spotted having fun with a yet unknown woman in Key West on Monday.” The article began.
It went on to speculate on our relationship, and recapped information about him and that of his previous liaisons. It shocked the hell out of me to see the photo in the newspaper, and I was even more shocked that Garland would be fodder for printed gossip. But mostly though, I was creeped-out over someone having actually stalked us to take the photo.
I wondered if Garland had seen it and was tempted to text him. But decided I’d wait until I saw him later.
“Do you even know anything about him?” Lauren asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s reputed to be a playboy who goes through women as often as he does his underwear. If you look on the Internet, you’ll see that he’s been photographed with hosts of women; including a couple of celebrities and well-known models,” she informed me, sounding almost vindictive.
“But all of that aside, I think the main issue is that anyone could see that photograph of you, including John. This is what I’d been warning you about, if that photo is in the paper, you can best believe it’ll be on the internet as well. And there’s no mistaking the intimacy between the two of you,” my sister droned on.
I looked at the photo again and knew that she was right. Anyone seeing it would accurately conclude Garland and I were getting it on. Our body language damn near oozed from the page.
“Look Camry, I’m not saying any of the things I read make Garland a bad person; only that you have absolutely no idea who you’ve been sleeping with. The two of you have been all but inseparable the past few days, but the fact that he’s a confirmed bachelor should tell you a man like him isn’t the commitment type,” said Lauren.
I gaped at her in amazement, she was completely overstepping her boundaries. What gave her the right to reprimand me about my own relationship? Hell, about anything at all for that matter? Lauren was allowed to express sisterly concern, but it irked the shit out of me when she was being overbearing and critical. My sister still insisted on treating me like a fifteen-year-old.
“I appreciate your concern, but Garland and I are both consenting adults just having fun together. If we choose to be reckless and have a fuck-fest together, so what? Let me worry about my own behavior, and I can handle my own relationship with John as well. It has nothing to do with you,” I fired back.
Though I was shocked to have been photographed and displayed in a local newspaper, I still defended Garland’s and my actions. Besides, Lauren was overreacting, I highly doubted a photo from a local Miami newspaper could make its way to Michigan.
“Bravo, Cam!” Marie cheered, clapping her hands as if she’d just witnessed the closing of a play. “Don’t let Miss Prude rain all over your parade, she’s just mad she isn’t getting any,” she said of Lauren.
I eyed her disapprovingly, knowing that she was only adding fuel to Lauren’s fire.
“What?” she asked innocently, “I worry about you too, but you’re a big girl who can take care of yourself. Besides, do you know how many women are hating on you right now? Most women would love to be exactly where you are—I mean were, which was underneath Mr. Hotness,” she said with a silly wag of her brows.
I tried not to smile and failed. Marie always knew how to cut to the important parts. But she’d essentially said the same thing about Garland that I’d been thinking; what woman wouldn’t want to be with him, even if only briefly?
“Rich playboy or not, Cam’s having the time of her life; and today is our last day here. Why stir-up more drama than necessary?” Marie asked Lauren.
Lauren just rolled her eyes at Marie.
But, I couldn’t have said it any better myself, except of course, maybe having omitted the rich playboy part.
“All I’m saying is, Camry should have been more responsible and that I hope she hasn’t gotten her feelings invested. Garland isn’t likely looking for things to go beyond tomorrow,” Lauren said meanly.
Seriously? I frowned at her. “How in the hell do you know what Garland is looking for? And is it so hard to believe a man like him would want me for more than just sex?” I asked defensively.
Though ironically, I’d been asking myself the same question just a short while ago. But, me thinking it and her saying it was two different things.
“I’m only trying to get you to see the reality of your predicament, but you’ll have to deal with this mess, not me. I’m done!” Lauren announced; throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then walking over to the door, she promptly exited. Good riddance.
At the sound of the door clicking back shut, Marie and I looked at each other and shook our heads. “Jeez…she sure knows how to throw a wet blanket on a good campfire,” she remarked.
I smiled at her analogy. “She means well, but just doesn’t recognize the boundaries sometimes. Lauren still treats me as if I’m the dumb little sister who got knocked-up in college, that shit gets tiresome,” I told her.
Marie gave me a familiar look. “It's more than that and you know it. I know you refuse to believe it, but Lauren’s always been a little jealous of you,” she said.
It wasn’t the first time she’d expressed her opinion. We’ve had this conversation before, and I still disagreed with her.
“You were the baby who got all the attention, and that she had responsibility for. Think about it, Lauren’s knocking on forty’s door, and has never had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of years. She’s currently single and childless, I think she envies you,” she insisted.
“That’s because she prefers it that way, Marie. Not every woman wants to be in a relationship or to have children,” I argued, defending Lauren as I always do.
Regardless to how much my sister and I sometimes clashed, I just couldn’t see what Marie did. Lauren seemed perfectly happy with her life the way that it was.
“Believe what you want,” she allowed, “But can you explain why she always seems to be so vested in your relationships?”
Nope, I really couldn’t. However, I only believed Lauren to be overprotective and nosy, that’s it.
“Enough about Lauren, I want to know all about your late-night booty-call with Mr. Hotness. He’s had you on your back since Saturday, I imagine you’re probably in desperate need of a massage by now,” Marie teased; then yelped when I pinched her.
“I wasn’t on my back the entire time. I was also on top, on my knees, against the wall in the shower, on all fours, hanging from the chandelier…” I corrected with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Cam! I can’t believe it, you hooker!” Marie exclaimed on a laugh, “What happened to my sweet little innocent cousin?”
I shared with her some of what Garland and I had been up to, omitting the more X-rated stuff. I told her about our time in Key West, about going to his house in the dead of night, and how he’d made me breakfast that morning.
“I swear, the sight of him cooking for me was the sexiest shit I’d ever seen, I think I actually swooned,” I gushed, smiling like a clown.
Marie watched me closely as I spoke, and when I finished, she just eyed me with a dawning look on her face. “Oh my God, you are completely infatuated,” she said.
I gave a start at her words, an immediate denial springing from my mouth. “I’m not infatuated with him, I’ve only known the man four days,” I protested.
“You’re obviously in denial; but I can see it in your eyes, you are a besotted woman,” Marie countered.
I fell onto the bed in exasperation, exhaling an aggravated huff. “I don’t deny being in lust with him, but I’m not besotted. We’ve spent the past four days together having sex, and lots of it, so of course I’m in lust with him,” I contended.
I felt Marie staring down at me. “Lots of sex?” she questioned, and we both started to laugh.
“You are in a mess, Cam, your reckless engagement has been surprising. But, how are you going to handle all of this with John?” she asked.
Reckless engagement…that reference was just full of irony.
But I groaned at the reminder, not even wanting to think about that particular dilemma right now. “Garland asked me to end my engagement with John last night,” I confessed.
Marie didn’t say anything immediately, and when I looked over at her for a response, she sat with widened eyes and an agape mouth.
“Jesus, Cam…” she breathed, sounding as if shocked.
“I know, it’s messy,” I agreed.
“Wow, did you ever think you would be caught in a love triangle?” she asked, a scandalized expression on her face.
“This isn’t funny, Marie!” I complained on a laugh.
