Wreckless Engagement: The Russian Engagement Series

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Wreckless Engagement: The Russian Engagement Series Page 19

by K. Marie


  “Garland, this is John; he was just leaving,” I rushed to say, giving John a meaningful look.

  “I would say that it’s a pleasure, but then, I would be lying,” John rudely remarked.

  “Likewise, McKellan, don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Garland returned.

  He obviously knew who John was.

  I looked on helplessly as the two men stood glaring at each other, like opponents about to square-off in a ring.

  For Pete’s sake, were they seriously having a pissing contest?

  “John!” I prompted impatiently, wanting him to make his exit immediately. The tension was thick enough to slash with a machete.

  Luckily, he takes the hint—glancing my way with a look of anger in his eyes. “Pictures are worth a thousand words, Camry, you’re way too good for this asshole. Don’t be another one of his victims,” he told me, leveling Garland with one last glare before exiting.

  His words snapped me instantly back to reality. In the midst of all the drama playing out inside my hallway, I’d momentarily forgotten about the photo.

  But after John exited, I saw him come to a sudden halt on the small porch, and noticed an intimidating looking Joe stood guard at the bottom of the stairs. Garland turned to watch John leave, and now gave Joe a nod that had him backing away a few steps to make an opening for John to pass.

  Though, he was certainly still close enough to be threatening.

  I held my breath until John made it by without incident, then became alarmed seconds later when Joe followed him. “What’s he doing?” I asked nervously, following Joe with my eyes. Joe was an ex-SEAL and a highly trained bodyguard, an armed one.

  Garland remained silent, and when I looked back over at him, I saw that he was now watching me with contemplative eyes. He looked pissed.

  “That was my ex…” I murmured lamely, not knowing what else to say.

  What a cluster-fuck.

  “I know who he is, Camry, I’m more interested in why he was here,” Garland said in a perfectly calm voice that belied the chill in his eyes.

  “He just showed up unannounced maybe ten minutes before you did; apparently because I hadn’t been returning his calls,” I told him.

  “Then perhaps you need a new phone,” Garland suggested, before turning to close the door. “Is this the first time he’s shown up since you broke things off, or does he make a habit of it?” he asked next.

  I sighed tiredly, feeling the beginnings of a headache starting to brew. “No, this is the first time I’ve seen him since breaking things off. And you can drop the jealous boyfriend routine, Garland, you don’t get to play that role today,” I added testily, turning to walk back towards the kitchen.

  Walking over to the table, I grabbed the paper that John brought with him. “If you must know, I’d say John’s visit was prompted by this,” I told him, handing over the page.

  Garland looked at the paper a minute, and then back at me. “What did he want exactly?” he asked, as if it wasn’t self-explanatory.

  Taking a seat, I glowered at him over the table. “He wanted me to know how much of an asshole you are,” I replied, feeling vindictive.

  “Please explain this,” I said, handing over the other paper.

  He raised an eyebrow at my hostile tone, before glancing down at the paper. Garland’s eyes narrowed as he took in the photo, giving it a bit more attention than he’d given the one of us.

  “Who is she?” I asked in annoyance.

  “She’s just an old friend, Camry, nothing more,” he answered.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Garland. It said she was your date, and the way she’s hanging all over you says a little more. I thought there was only ‘room for two of us in a relationship’?” I mocked sarcastically, throwing his previous words back at him.

  I could be overreacting, but I didn’t give a shit just now. I can’t imagine he’d be okay with it if it were reversed.

  “So, are we having an open relationship now, is it okay for me to go out on friendly little dates?” I challenged, masking my hurt with anger.

  “Only if you’d like your dates to cease breathing, I’m not that understanding,” Garland returned.

  Hypocrite! “Well, neither am I,” I shot back.

  “Sophie is only a friend, Camry. I agreed to be her escort to the gala prior to meeting you, and I like to keep my word,” he said, as if that made it okay.

  “I would like for you to keep your word to me, Garland! That was a little over a week ago, I find it odd that you never mentioned going to that event—let alone with a date,” I told him, the last word rolling off my tongue with distaste. “I sincerely hope you haven’t promised yourself out to anyone else, because that doesn’t work for me,” I said in no uncertain terms.

  The little green monster had reared its ugly head, and I didn’t like the way it was making me feel. I’ve never thought of myself as the insecure, jealous type, but I admit to having my own share of trust issues. Mostly though, I was just royally pissed at myself for giving him the power to hurt me. Love sucks.

  Yes, I admit it, I’m crazy in love with Garland.

  “The event wasn’t a big deal; I go to those kinds of functions all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t think to mention it. The relationship-thing is new for me, Camry, I’m not used to having to share my calendar, but lesson learned,” Garland said, sounding somewhat contrite.

  I sat in a funk, wondering if I could believe him. Was he playing me for a fool? Why didn’t he know that being someone’s date while in a relationship was inappropriate? Despite what he’d just said, was this the type of crap I had to look forward to? Would Garland be the kind of man who does as he pleased; the kind who doesn’t come home at night and thinks that it’s okay?

  “You said the relationship-thing was new for you—I don’t understand, have you never had a relationship before?” I asked in puzzlement, certain that that couldn’t possibly be true.

  “I have, just not in a very long time. Relationships tend to get messy,” he answered.

  “I’m guessing that policy didn’t include being celibate, surely you’ve been having sex with someone,” I said tartly.

  A man didn’t get to be a Sex-God like Garland unless he’d had a lot of practice. So, if he’s been having sex with someone, how had he managed to avoid the relationship trap?

  “I haven’t been a monk, no. I have needs, Camry, I just never let those needs lead into a relationship. I guess you could say I’ve had a lot of meaningless sex,” he said bluntly.

  “Did you have meaningless sex with that woman in the photo?” I asked, knowing that I shouldn’t. I was clearly a glutton for punishment.

  Garland eyed me uncertainly, before admitting, “Yes, once upon a time.”

  Okay…breathe Camry, I told myself, suddenly short on oxygen. My lungs seemed to have stopped working.

  Dammit, why did I ask him that question? I knew to never ask a question that I might not be ready to hear the answer to.

  “It was years ago,” he stressed, attempting to reassure me.

  But it was too late. All I could think about was him having had sex with that woman after the gala. So much shit swirled suddenly around inside my head; all of my old insecurities, doubts, fears, and past bad experiences all vied for top position.

  “Jesus…” is all I managed to get out, on the verge of tears.

  Not wanting him to see me cry, I got hurriedly to my feet. “I can’t do this with you right now, Garland, please leave,” I told him, moving to flee. But he grasped my arm to stop me.

  “Camry, you’re being irrational, I’m not leaving until you hear me out,” he told me, as though I were being high-drama.

  I snorted a mirthless laugh. “You’ve said more than enough. I may be irrational, but you were being stupid! And in case you didn’t already know it, newsflash! You don’t go on dates with women you’ve fucked when you’re in a relationship!” I yelled, yanking my arm away.

  “Welcome to the messy par
t of the relationship, perhaps this is a good time for you to make your escape,” I told him, before turning on my heels and fleeing before he could stop me.

  Twenty-Seven

  I lay curled-up in bed, not believing the fact that I was crying over a man. After David, I promised myself I would never do that again.

  For the hundredth time, I wondered how my life had gotten so messy so fast. I’m a mess. I don’t know what got into me. I had a really strong reaction downstairs; a stronger reaction than I would’ve ever imagined. It brought up a lot of bad memories for me, memories of the hell that I’d gone through with Autumn’s father.

  We started dating my junior year of high school, and I got pregnant with Autumn by the end of my sophomore year of college. David and I never should have married, we were both too young and immature. He cheated on me before Autumn turned a year old, and we were separated by the time she turned two. There were always other girls; David thought the relationship rules didn’t apply to him.

  He made me feel insecure, like I wasn’t good enough. And apparently, some scars run deeper than we think. I thought those scars were long since healed, but apparently not. I guess it’s easy to believe something non-existent when you’d been hell-bent on repressing it.

  After my disastrous relationship with David, I refused to invest my heart in another, refused to make myself so vulnerable again. I no longer wanted the kind of love that sapped all of my energy and consumed my every waking thought. I never again wanted to feel like I needed another just to breathe. Love can be all consuming; and devastating as hell when it betrayed you.

  So, I sought safety instead. I wanted someone I could have a meaningful connection with, someone I could trust and count on. I wanted routine and predictability, and I wanted all of those things without having to invest a large piece of my heart. Admittedly, that’s what I’d found in John. He didn’t make my heart do flips, but he was a good guy, and I truly cared for him.

  I lay here now second guessing myself, wondering if perhaps I’d made a huge mistake in breaking up with him. I wasn’t ready to marry, but we had a good relationship that could have endured. A safe relationship.

  But no, I had to go and be stupid; I fell for the bad boy once again.

  Garland was far from safe, and I knew it the moment we met, but didn’t let it deter me. He engaged me emotionally from day one; evoked positively explosive reactions from me. That scene downstairs a short while ago was a testament to that. I was angry at myself for letting him in; wished I’d held more back, hadn’t rushed headlong into it. Now I was paying the consequences of my stupidity. Whatever it is between the two of us, it almost certainly spelled heartache for me.

  I gave a start when he appeared at my door, much like a specter that I’d suddenly conjured.

  Jesus-H-Christ. He almost gave me a heart attack.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d lain here sulking, but I thought for sure Garland had been long gone. I eyed him warily; wondering why he wasn’t, wondering what the hell he’d been doing all this time.

  Neither of us said a word for what seemed like forever. Garland just stood leaning against the door-frame with his arms folded across his chest, having removed his suit jacket, tie and shoes. He looked comfortable; suspiciously like he’d taken a power-nap, he apparently had no intention of leaving.

  I couldn’t blame him if he had. I was probably more drama than he’d signed-on for. But him going out with a woman he’d had sex with hurt. It made me feel things I didn’t want to feel, made me think things I didn’t want to think. I didn’t know if I could trust him.

  Pushing himself away from the door, Garland finally stepped into the room, walking over to the bed and taking a seat next to me.

  “I’m sorry, Camry. No one’s called me stupid in a very long time, if ever, but you were right. I wasn’t thinking, and I should have been. You are the only woman that I’ve wanted in a very long time, the only woman I’ve wanted more than just sex from. Other women hold no interest for me on any level, sweetheart, please believe that,” he said, tone sincere.

  I searched his eyes; wanting wholeheartedly to believe every word, but afraid to. I’m in love with Garland; had given him my heart to rip to shreds if he so chose, and he’d been negligent with it.

  “I thought you’d left,” I told him, somewhat mollified that he hadn’t. I was angry and hurt when I told him to leave, I might’ve overreacted.

  “You wanted me to bail, but that’s not happening, I don’t scare off that easily. Besides, I signed-on for messy, remember?” he said, a hint of humor in his eyes.

  I tried not to smile. “Because you’re obviously crazy,” I told him, refusing to cave so easily.

  “I’m crazy about you, Camry. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen,” Garland promised, quickly hammering away at my defenses.

  Damn him!

  I pulled myself into a sitting position against the headboard, not wanting to have this conversation lying down. “If you insist on staying aboard the messy-train, we should go over a few ground rules,” I said, before ticking them off.

  “You are hereby banned from going out with other women, or escorting them, or whatever you want to call it. You can’t do casual female friendships period, while in a relationship with me. And most important of all, no other woman gets to put her hands on you unless she is a relative, or you’re helping a little old lady cross the street. Basically Garland, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me doing, and we should be good,” I told him, satisfied I’d covered all the bases.

  “Understood, very loud and very clear. I’m hereby done being stupid, I won’t be doing anything you’d disapprove of,” he said, eyes smiling back at me. “But I have just one request of you, no more visits with your ex,” he added.

  I eyed him with interest, surprised by the request, even more intrigued by the hint of jealousy his request revealed. “I won’t be seeing John again. I only let him in today because I’d been avoiding him and felt I should finally hear him out and move on,” I told him.

  “I don’t like him just showing up here, Camry, especially after today. He was angry, and angry men do stupid things,” he said.

  “Well, hopefully he got some closure today, I’m sure your appearance was the final insult,” I said with irony.

  Garland gave me a look of uncertainty. “If anything, it just pissed him off more,” he argued.

  “You did steal his woman, I’m sure he hates your guts,” I told him, trying to keep a straight face.

  “If you could be stolen from him, he didn’t deserve you in the first place. Another man could never steal you away from me,” he said with confidence, unrepentant.

  We gazed at each other silently, his words going unchallenged like an unspoken agreement.

  Yep, I’m a fool for the man, and I know it.

  “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” I murmured, breaking the silence. It’s been almost a week since he’d left, and our phone calls and texts had been hit or miss.

  “I could never forget about you, sweetheart, even if I tried. I’m sorry I was out of touch; I spent the majority of my time in conference rooms with lawyers,” Garland explained.

  “You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t expect you to be constantly in touch with me while trying to conduct business. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I told him.

  What man wanted a clingy nag?

  “Come here,” Garland said, reaching for my hand and pulling me towards him.

  I scooted closer, before lifting myself over his lap, straddling him.

  “I missed you,” he told me, before sealing his mouth to mine in a sweet kiss. “I wanted to surprise you today, but that didn’t turn out quite the way I imagined,” he added dryly.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him this time, letting my response speak for me. I’d missed him as well, a little too much. Long distance relationships were a bitch.

  I kissed Garland with a growing need, my body’s automatic
response to his nearness. It’s amazing how I can go from being pissed at him, to wanting to mate with him like a jungle animal.

  “How much time do we have?” he asked, grasping the hem of my tank top and lifting it over my head.

  “I, uh, maybe two hours,” I stammered distractedly, as Garland deftly removed my bra. He went for the waistband of my jeans next; and had me damn near naked in a flash.

  Garland rose from the bed and lowered me to my feet, before proceeding to pull both my jeans and panties down my legs with a singular focus. He then pushed me rudely backwards onto the bed, before stripping himself of his clothing with a sense of purpose. Standing before me naked, he pushed my knees apart, his lustful gaze moving between my thighs.

  “Being away from you has proved quite the challenge; I crave you like a fucking drug. What do you suppose I do about that?” he asked, blazing eyes traveling back up to mine.

  What do I think he should do about it? That’s easy. “Fuck me, Garland…”

  The past few weeks had been thankfully uneventful and drama-free. Garland and I developed a steady rhythm, and he and Autumn had also been forging their own budding friendship. The only small problem was the Miami discussion.

  Garland’s started to grow impatient with my mutiny on the subject. He wasn’t happy with my less than reassuring response when he questioned my intentions last week. Almost two months of his dictated three-month timeline had already passed.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with him; I was madly in love with the man, the plain truth is, I’m simply terrified.

  How can I even contemplate moving to another state with a man I’ve known barely two months? How can I just leave my family and relocate my daughter into the unknown? Wouldn’t that make me either stupid or crazy?

 

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