“He wants you.”
“That doesn’t mean he should be with me. You’ve probably noticed how upset he’s been since I came here. I want him to have a peaceful life. A chance at a normal family.”
Misha let out another snort. He sounded much younger now, even the cadence to his speech changing. “There are no normal families.”
“There are always challenges, but if he can’t love me as I am, I can’t be with him.”
“You think you’re so special that you’re unlovable?”
Rachel was taken aback. She didn’t know what Misha had been like when he was alive, but he sure was a jerk in the afterlife. And he wasn’t done with her yet.
“All you have to do is say the word and Garrett would be yours. You’re the one keeping the two of you apart. Don’t lay this on him.”
“He can’t keep up with me.”
“Then slow down!”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Excuses. It’s always excuses with you.”
Brother or not, Rachel was reaching her limit with this guy. “You don’t know me.”
“Do you? Does anyone?”
Rachel opened her mouth to argue, but couldn’t think of a response. Of everyone on the planet, Garrett understood her best. If she couldn’t make it work with him, she knew in her heart she would be alone for the rest of her life. Except for the ghosts.
A life filled with spirits seemed easy compared to a life without Garrett.
Misha had regained some of his composure when he spoke again. He still sounded different, but the anger was contained.
“All you have to do is tell him how you feel. That’s all he needs. Please, at least try.”
Chapter Nineteen
Garrett didn’t look up when Rachel walked into his bedroom. He sat at the foot of his bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. His eyes were burning. She could probably see how damp they were. He was past caring.
“Hi.” She hovered just inside the doorway.
He parroted back, “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
“You sure I’m the one you want to talk to?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I heard you,” he whispered.
“Heard me what?”
He cleared his throat. “I came out to talk things through, but you weren’t in the living room. I heard you talking to someone in your room. I’m guessing it was Misha.”
After a short pause she said, “Yes.”
He nodded, her confirmation hollowing him out.
“I made a salt barrier at the door,” she said. “He can’t come in further than the guest room and bathroom.”
“Great.”
Like that made it okay.
Yet again, she had turned to someone else—let someone else in—while she kept Garrett at arm’s length. She was moving away from him already. He wanted to follow after her, but he didn’t think he had it in him anymore. At least he knew she’d be back next time something blew up.
Was that all he had to look forward to?
He felt the bed move as she knelt next to him. He could see from the corner of his eye.
Please, Lord, don’t let her try to start anything again.
He wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened between them before he had the answers he needed. If she so much as touched him, he would probably leap across the room like he was snakebit.
His stomach churned as he remembered Dylan again.
“I’m in a difficult situation here,” she said. “And you are too. Because of me.”
“I knew what I was signing up for.”
Partly, anyway.
He knew she was going through a lot—it just turned out to be a different kind of hurting, from a source he would never have guessed. Being surrounded by ghosts… What she was dealing with was awful. He didn’t mean to be putting more on her.
“But you didn’t,” she said. “Not really. You thought you were helping out a friend who had been through a traumatic event. You didn’t know you were getting all of this. I did.”
Her voice crackled for a moment, but she cleared her throat and went on in a strong tone.
“I knew how you felt. I knew you loved me. And I let you help me even though I knew it was hurting you. And I am so, so sorry for that. But I didn’t do it to use you or lead you on. I did it because I couldn’t stay away. I knew I was all wrong for you, but I just…wanted you so much. I hope you can forgive me. I know I never will.”
“Rachel—” He glanced up.
Looking at her was a mistake. When their gazes met, it was like being struck by lightning. His heart seemed to want to break out of his chest to get to her.
Whenever they were close he felt it—electric energy, pulsing just beneath his skin. Never this strong before, though. His entire body was charged and ready to do whatever she needed, wanting just a little more time with her any way he could get it.
The pull toward her was like gravity—or a black hole.
Her lips parted and she leaned toward him. She felt it too. He was sure of it. What he wasn’t sure of was whether it was love or lust on her part. And the ever-present question with her remained—when would she run away again?
“You asked me to think,” she said. “But that’s part of my problem. I think too much about some things, but not enough about others. I can be focused and calm or full of frenetic energy. I’m a person of extremes.”
She shook her head and leaned back on her heels. “I’m passionate. I feel everything deeply and I process things so fast. It can come out…intense. I know it can be off-putting. Even I want to run away from me sometimes. Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing. Running away from everything.”
Garrett had never thought that Rachel might be exhausted by her own contradictions. “That doesn’t seem like a good way to live.”
“It isn’t. I don’t want to live that way anymore. I don’t want to run away from you, Garrett.”
His heartbeat instantly picked up. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears.
He tried to stay calm. She didn’t want to run away. Okay. But what did she want? A casual fling? Or something more?
“I’ve never seen you yell or get as worked up with anyone else as you do with me,” she said. “I don’t know that it’s a good thing I bring that out of you.”
“I have a temper. That’s not your doing.”
“I know. I’m trying to explain why I act this way with you.” She let out a breath and said, “Do you remember the night we met?”
“Of course. It was one of your mom’s fundraisers.”
“I’m not talking about seeing each other across a room. I mean the first time we talked.”
He had seen her half a dozen times before they ever spoke. They had exchanged glances across rooms, even sometimes grinned and raised their eyebrows or nodded their heads, sharing a joke that no one else seemed to get.
But the first time they talked… That was something he would never forget. It had put his life on a different trajectory.
He cleared his throat and said, “Jazz had that Halloween party at the Orange Grove Inn.”
“And we both stepped outside to get some fresh air because there were too many people. You said you had already used up your quota for crowds with an event we both attended earlier that week. I told you I’d had my fill of crowds too. But it wasn’t the kind you were thinking of. I couldn’t tell you then, but I was freaking out from seeing so many people in costumes.”
It only took him a second to figure out the issue this time. Everybody had shown up as monsters. The room was full of people dressed as the dead. That night must have been an ordeal for her.
“Why did you go?”
“The idea was hers, but Jazz had me do all the planning. It was the f
irst big event she let me handle on my own. I couldn’t not show up. When you and I were talking, I kept thinking she might fire me for being gone so long, but I didn’t want to go back inside. Not because I wanted to avoid the costumes but because I wanted more time with you. There was something about you. Even then, I could feel it.”
“It was probably the beer.”
She laughed, and the sound tugged at his chest.
He wanted to make her feel better. If jokes would work, great. But the more they talked—with her kneeling next to him on his bed—the more he wondered if it would be so bad to have a one-night stand. If that was what she needed…
“That was the first beer I ever drank from a bottle,” she said. “You had nabbed it from behind the bar and shared it with me. You’ve always shared whatever you had with me.”
It didn’t feel like sharing. After that night, everything he had—everything he was—was hers.
“You talked to me and I felt calm,” she said. “Centered. I felt like I could finally let go of my socialite veneer, at least for a little while. I felt like I could be myself. We were out there for hours.”
She had a soft smile on her face. She laughed again as she went on. “When you first ran into me on the balcony, you offered to leave. You said I was there first and you didn’t want to trouble me.”
Garrett nodded. “I remember.”
“And I asked you to stay. I’m always asking you to stay. I can’t say I’ll always be right at your side. That isn’t who I am. I’m flighty and full of energy and movement and I need you to be okay with that. But I ask you to stay because I want to be with you.”
Yeah. He got that. She wanted to be with him on her terms. When, where, and how she wanted. He needed more.
“There are lots of ways to be with someone,” he said. “Different relationship dynamics. This is all really…nostalgic, but it doesn’t let me know where I stand. I don’t get why you can’t just come out and say—”
“I love you.”
He blinked. He felt his eyelids close and open like shutters.
Love? His mouth went dry and his heart seemed to stop.
“Love means different things to different people…” he said.
She sighed and inched closer.
“I love how gentle you are and how passionate you can be. I love your intelligence and generosity. I love how you take care of everyone. I love how you can charm people without letting them past your guard. I love that you give me glimpses of who you really are and share sides of yourself with me that no one else gets to see.”
Was she talking about how she felt about him or the other way around? He had thought these same things about her more times than he could count.
She paused for a moment, then said, “I love that you let me get away with just enough that I feel free to take risks and be myself, but not so much that you don’t let me know when I’ve crossed a line, like I did earlier.”
“Rachel—”
“I’m not finished.”
She inched closer, resting her hand on his thigh for balance. He remembered the softness of her skin and felt himself start to get hard again. This time, it didn’t bother him.
“Your house is the only place that ever really felt like a home to me. I thought at first it was because it’s out in the country and so it’s more peaceful for a clairsentient. But it was because of you.”
She squeezed his thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. But even more, he wanted to hear what she had to say. He wanted to understand her—who she was and what she was offering him.
“I loved going to bed in your house every night and waking up knowing that you were going to be the first person I would see. I loved cooking for you and laughing with you. And I wanted to stay so much that it terrified me. Because then, I didn’t think I could do that to you. It felt like it would be a punishment, and you deserved better.”
“How could living with you ever be a punishment?”
“Because I’m weird and I see ghosts and I go off on tangents constantly and my mother is actually kind of evil and I say things without thinking them through, like that part about my mom.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t see me arguing the point.”
She smiled, shifting closer. He could lean forward and kiss her if he wanted, and he really wanted to. But damn, if he wasn’t shaking inside. She was dangling everything he wanted right in front of him. If he reached for it, she might jerk it away.
Yeah, that killed the moment. He looked down, but she lifted her hands to his face and turned his head back toward her.
“You said you laid it all out for me before. Let me do the same now. What I want? I want you. Not just your truly exquisite body, but all of you. I want to see you every day. I want to go to sleep in this huge bed with you and wake up in your arms. I want—”
She locked her gaze with his, more serious than he’d ever seen her. Warmth flooded him from her hands on his face, her knees pressing against his thigh.
“I want the white-picket fence,” she said. “To be your wife—your partner. With three kids and a dog and two cats. I want to go to family cookouts with you and make jokes that only we get. I want you to bring me breakfast in bed on mother’s day and to send the kids to a friend’s house on father’s day so I can give you better memories in that ugly recliner that I know you’ll never let me get rid of.”
That one memory in his favorite chair was being painted in a whole new light with every word she said. She was still holding on to his face, as if she was the one afraid he was going to bolt for a change.
“What I want,” she whispered, leaning in so close that her breath warmed his lips. “Is you. Forever.”
Chapter Twenty
If she didn’t kiss Garrett immediately, she was going to spontaneously combust. His lips were slightly parted as if waiting for her—welcoming her.
She hoped she was reading him right this time. She couldn’t bear to bring him more pain. She also couldn’t bear to not touch more of him.
His stubble prickled against her hands, strong muscles tensed beneath. She didn’t dare let go. She would never let him go again. He had to understand that she was done running. This was it.
Gently, she pressed her lips against his. He wanted slow. She could do slow.
She let the feel of him soak in—his breath light on her face, the warmth of his lips and softness of his mouth. And for once, she waited for him. Waited for him to make some sign that this was okay. That it was what he wanted.
She didn’t have to wait long.
He lifted his hands to her back, running them up along her spine and over her shoulder blades, then pulled her closer. His lips started to move in a slow, sensual caress that made heat pool between her legs. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
No wonder the episode in the recliner had gone so wrong. She gave him a flash-fire when he was after a slow burn. The heat of his kiss spread through her body, resonating, echoing deep within her. She had never felt anything like it.
Primal energy uncoiling in waves that rolled through her instead of crashing around. His lips gripped hers, sucked and nipped. The sensation spread along her nerve endings as if they were each getting a massage.
Her muscles relaxed into him, tension dropping away even while a throbbing ache built in her core. He held her against his chest with one arm while he reached down with his other hand and pulled her thigh across his lap so she was straddling him on the edge of the bed.
A sharp spike of nerves rippled through her. Perched on the edge of the bed, she could easily fall off. But he was holding her up, keeping her safe—as always.
She pressed her hips down to feel his erection. She wanted more.
He
thrust up against her, tantalizing her through the thin cotton of her panties. She was so wet. She could feel it. Aching and hollow and longing for him to fill her.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he moved his kisses down her neck and over her collarbone, making a steady trail to her breasts. He nuzzled her through the soft fabric of her T-shirt till her nipples were so tight they almost hurt.
She was very glad she hadn’t worn a bra.
He ran his nose over the point jutting toward him, then clasped his mouth around her, laving it with his tongue. She groaned low, not recognizing the sounds she was making. Her T-shirt was damp and clinging to her skin when he moved to her other breast.
No one had ever done anything like this to her before. Sex was always over quickly and then she was on to the next thing. She could tell with Garrett this was the next thing. And the next, and the next. She wasn’t sure they would ever leave his bed again.
He ran his teeth over the inner side of her breast, then trailed his nose up along her cleavage.
“Stand up.” His voice was rough—lower than usual.
At this point, she would do anything he said. She slid to her feet, standing between his knees.
His shaft was sticking out from the top of his pajama pants. Even after what they had done in the recliner, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Thick and glistening and ready for her.
She wanted to drop to her knees and take him again, but resisted the urge. Things would be over too fast. She wanted to keep savoring him, keep basking in this incredibly erotic experience.
“Look at me.”
Her gaze flicked to his. The intensity of his stare sent another wave of electric sparks through her. Not in little trails or isolated parts of her anatomy. Everywhere.
There was really something to be said for taking their time. Every touch was magnified, the connection more intimate. She was saturated with him. From the way his blue eyes burned, he was only getting started.
He ran his hands up her sides underneath her shirt, cupping her breasts and kneading them. She gasped as he flicked his thumbs across her nipples, the jolt of pleasure echoing in her core.
Whispering Hearts Page 17
