“Damn, Brooke. Just damn.” He trembled, shifting his body to lie beside me. His arms pulled me tight against him, my head resting on his chest, his heart beat luring me to keep falling into him.
“I think I could sleep right here,” I whispered, overwhelmed with contentment.
“Me too.” His arms tightened, and he pressed his lips against my temple.
“About earlier…you wanted to know why I’m nervous—it’s time. When I have time to let myself think clearly…and then one little touch makes me forget time, makes me forget we’re stranded in the middle of the ocean, and there are a million reasons to get home and only one reason making me want to stay forever.”
He propped up on his elbow. “Brooke—”
“Let me finish while I have the courage. Don’t worry, I’m not falling in love with you, Garrett. I’m just worried you’ll grow tired of me before I’m finished with you, and I want this with you. It’s like I’m alive again. I yearn for the heat running through my veins, and I love the way you make me feel.”
He covered my mouth with his, sliding his knee between my thighs and clutching the sides of my face in the palms of his hands. Slanting his head to the side, he deepened the languid kiss, and his delicious taste overwhelmed my senses.
“I’m not anywhere near growing tired of you. Right now, all I want to do is sleep on the beach with you, wake up next to you, get to know you better, and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.”
Chapter 15
Another week passed and we’d formed daily routines, starting with collecting fresh water and coconuts then spearing fish together. We spent time lounging around, walking along the beach, and taking dips in the lagoon. Underneath the fall was my favorite, and as always, the sex was incredible.
One morning after we’d finished our customary daily tasks, I ambled around inside the plane, trying to straighten up our strewn belongings. It looked like a cyclone had swept through the compartment with all the clothing and personal items tossed about. Through the window, I watched Garrett swimming toward the rock, and I knew he was searching for grassy beds of scallops.
Dipping beneath the surface, he came up for air before disappearing again, giving me the gift of a few seconds to admire the sculpted muscles of his back. I shook my head and blew out a breath at all that magnificence in the raw.
All of that. My God…all of that wants me.
In a matter of minutes, I had the suitcases stacked on top of one another, and for whatever reason, organizing our things made me feel better. Glancing through the glass, I saw Garrett sat atop the rock, letting waves shower him with sprays of water. It looked inviting and refreshing.
Kicking off my flip-flops, I noticed his yellow legal pad kicked halfway under the last seat. When I picked it up, the papers fanned open in the breeze. My name in his writing caught my attention. It had a square around it and was number one in a list of ten or fifteen items he’d written out.
Brooke Sheridan, St. Eden’s Regional, Rachel, gazebo/ribbon cutting, George/Boston, Jennings, Mitchell Oil Board approval, wedding gift, tuxedo, wine…
My eyes scanned the first three things on the list over and over again. Why would he have my mother’s hospital on line two, and her name listed next? My mind ran rampant with a million questions.
“Find anything interesting?”
I flinched, unware he’d leaned inside. “Shit! You scared me!”
“Why so nervous? Rifling through my things, Brooke?” He ran his hand along his jaw.
“I found your notepad shoved under the seat while cleaning up. Your to-do list has my name on it, as well as my mom’s and her hospital.”
“So it does.”
“Why?”
“I sit on the board at St. Eden’s. Rachel—a common name, by the way—is a client, and your name happens to be there because you’re my assistant.”
I swallowed hard, searching his unreadable eyes. He looked tense and broody but also serious and charismatic…and he was sexy as hell with no shirt on.
“It’s coincidental,” I said, my voice barely audible, as if trying to convince myself there was truth in his declaration. Carefully watching him, I steadied my voice with a mind full of looming doubt. “Trusting people…not one of my stronger tendencies.”
“Not everyone in the world wants to hurt you, Brooke—especially not me.” He shoved away from the plane in a swift motion and walked away.
I leaned my head against the seat, closed my eyes, and expelled a deep breath. It had been a fluke circumstance, and I’d immediately failed the trust test. I watched him toss a few small logs into the fire pit before lighting them. Grabbing the bag of scallops, he took hard angry steps toward where he’d been husking the meat from the shells.
Tossing the scallops into a large clam shell, he ignored my approach. I cleared my throat and reached in to help, working one shell out at a time, but he still didn’t acknowledge me.
“I didn’t know what to think, Garrett. I picked up the pad and the first three lines were staring me straight in the face. What would you think if I had a list that had your name, Mitchell Oil, and your mom’s name at the top?”
“I’ve never explained myself to anyone, Brooke, but with you, I’ve made several exceptions to my own rules. I don’t answer to anyone, yet I’m answering to you. I’ve never asked anyone to trust me because I didn’t give a fuck if they did or not, but with you, I care.”
I swallowed hard. “I know that about you, and so does everyone else who knows you. I’m sorry I questioned your intentions, but for what it’s worth, I believe you. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Look at you—eyes trying to cover up all that lingering doubt and still failing miserably.” He tossed a shell to the side.
“Make the doubt go away. Make me trust you, Garrett, because sometimes I think you’re the only one who can.” My voice was quiet and shaky.
He looked up and stilled. We stared at each other for the longest time, the tension evaporating until it faded away completely. He reached over, pushing a stand of hair behind my ear before cupping my face in the palm of his hand and caressing my cheek with his thumb.
Shaking his head, Garrett cracked a smile with darkened eyes. “Be careful Brooke, because right now I want to fuck the doubt out of you. I want to make you see the good in me.”
Every worry, every insecurity, every doubt dissipated into thin air with the way he looked at me as if he wanted to devour me. He was full of electricity and had the power to burn holes through my body with one look.
No more going through life numb and hollow. I’d sheltered myself for so long and had become fearful instead of fearless. Him coming into my life had taken me completely by surprise, but him managing to breathe life and passion into me again felt as though he’d placed heaven in my soul.
“I think I’d like that.”
He let out a soft chuckle before retrieving a morsel of our dinner from the shell and casting it aside.
After the fire burned down, he placed the makeshift pan on top of the embers and seared our food to perfection. While we waited, I opened a coconut, sliced up some of the meat, and poured water into large clam shells.
“When we get back, coconut is one thing I don’t want to see for a while—not even a piña colada.” I eased to the ground, leaning against the large piece of driftwood.
“I’ve had my fill of seafood. The first thing I’m going to have is a nice rib eye, medium cooked, and a beer.”
“How many days has it been? I’ve lost count.”
“Nine.”
I took a bite. “Mmmmm, this is delicious.”
“When we get home, I’m going to cook you a real meal with seasoning and wine sauce.”
“You cook?”
He smirked and cocked his eyebrows. “Why does that surprise you? I learned since I refuse to eat frozen dinners, and I don’t like to have takeout or live in restaurants all the time.”
“I just figured you had a live-in maid or someth
ing.”
“I do have a maid. She cooks some during the week, keeps up my home, and takes care of my laundry, but my steak and fontina panini with chimichurri sauce is better than hers.”
I gaped at him, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.
“I do well if I don’t burn the macaroni and cheese…out of the box.”
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and I craned to see where it had come from.
“Looks like rain is on the way from the west. We should have time to finish eating and slide everything inside the plane for safekeeping in case of high winds.”
“Should we sleep in the plane or test the shelter?”
“Since we don’t know how much wind is in the system, we should probably try the shelter first. It’s underneath the trees and anchored down with strong twine, and the plane is slightly in the water.”
Garrett stuffed the lawn chair and the rest of our things inside the plane while I picked up the few things we had out in the open. The wind picked up, whipping my hair around and tossing loose strands against my cheek.
Shades of grey and purple slowly rolled over the blue skies as I climbed into the shelter. Garrett fastened a large panel of woven palm fronds over the homemade skylight before joining me. He left the door open as we scooted to the back, stretching our legs out in front of us.
“This day is shaping up to be the worst one so far,” I murmured over the pitching wind. Angry waves rolled in, catching the plane and pushing it farther onto the beach. It wobbled a few times with each wind gust as water sloshed underneath.
“I’ll make it your best night,” he murmured.
A long rumble of thunder made me forget my retort about waiting as large pellets of rain began plummeting to the ground all around us. Wind rushed through the palms, assaulting the structure protecting us, which creaked and whined like it might come apart in the force of nature.
“What happens if the plane starts floating out to sea?”
“We watch her go. There wasn’t any way to anchor her down. Right now, it looks like the wind is working in our favor.”
“I guess you also studied meteorology?”
“Smartass.” He laughed, easing his body to lie down and pulling me with him.
Idly, I ran my hand over his chest. “What’s your middle name?”
“Liam.”
“Mine is Indigo.” I let out a slight chuckle. “I think my mom named me that out of spite.”
“Spite?”
“To get back at my grandmother. She named me after my sperm donor’s band. I don’t remember the name of it though.” I paused before adding, “My grandmother wasn’t happy about me period, often throwing it in my mom’s face that she’d ruined the good Sheridan name. I overheard their arguments more than once about how she should have married some guy named Simon—how he’d been her ticket to sweep her mistake under the rug. My mom would go into a rage and yell that I was the best thing that had ever happened to her and how she was going to put me on a pedestal for the world to see, that she wasn’t ashamed.”
“Did your grandparents ever come around?”
“They were never mean, but they weren’t the doting type either. They died believing she’d had a one-night stand and didn’t even know his name. They never knew Indigo was part of him. It wasn’t until I was about fifteen or sixteen that she finally told me.”
“About how you got your name?”
“That, and who my dad was. Apparently, he left town, hitting the road with the band. She left messages, wrote him letters, until one day she learned he’d overdosed.”
“I can’t imagine what life must have been like for you.”
“It wasn’t bad. I mean, my grandparents weren’t so shitty that they didn’t help her. I didn’t do without and never wanted for anything. I just wasn’t what my grandmother had wanted for my mama. She was supposed to marry and spend the summers in the Hamptons. My grandparents were in debt up to their eyeballs with my grandfather trying to give his wife the life she coveted.”
“Maybe your father never got the messages or letters. Maybe he never knew about you.”
“He knew. She even contacted his parents on the day she went into labor. We’ve lived in the same house and she kept the same cell phone number in case he called. He never made an attempt to see me before he died.”
He licked his lips and swallowed hard. Raking his hands through his hair, he looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to comfort me or make a contradiction.
“Stop looking like you want to say something to make me feel better. I’m twenty-five and not the least bit depressed about the fact that he didn’t want me.”
“Did your mom ever marry?”
“Spouse number one, Rodney, wanted my mom to sell the house and move to Phoenix for his new promotion. She didn’t give in and they divorced. Spouse number two, Alan, was a used car salesman, and I’m pretty sure he gave my mom an earful of bullshit. They lasted six months. She finally gave up on men and changed her name back to Sheridan, so yeah, my mom’s batting zero in the happily ever after department. Tell me about your family.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Mine is boring compared to yours. Gammy is the sweetest woman on the planet, unless you piss her off—then she’s hell in high heels. My parents live about thirty miles east of Mesquite in the same house we grew up in. Stone married his high school sweetheart after a shit-load of drama, and Chad is busy running Mitchell Oil and buying The Lone Stars.”
“The Lone Stars? As in the baseball team?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Your parents must be proud of you and your brothers.”
“My mom would be prouder if we would all get married and give her grandchildren.”
“Have you been close to marrying anyone?”
“No. I dated a woman named Jodi for a little over five months a couple years ago. She had a positive pregnancy test and called my mother before me. I guess it was her way of sealing the deal on marriage. Hell, they were planning our wedding before I even got home from the office. Thank God it was a false alarm and Jodi became history.”
“Did you love her?”
“No. She knew from the beginning I was in it for the convenient sex, nothing more. Work late hours—sex eagerly waiting for me at home. Early morning blowjob before a stressful day, and lunch sex…she liked it as much as I did.”
“Then she wanted more,” I said quietly, supplying the ending for him.
“Then she wanted more. I didn’t want more, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to get trapped into a life I didn’t want.”
Like me.
I was convenient.
I was an all-the-sex-you-can-have buffet, eagerly waiting, nothing more.
I accepted that, because he was convenient for me, too, my buffet eagerly ready to give me what I needed.
Nothing more.
Chapter 16
Garrett had been without a shirt for most of the time we’d been stranded, but damn…just damn. It was hard to keep from throwing myself on him with us boxed inside the small shelter while we waited for the rain to pass. The whipping winds died down, taking the rumbling thunder and forking lightning with it, and it felt like temperatures tipped a hundred degrees in the humid, sticky air.
He seemed unfazed and incredibly edible as an internal feverishness swept through me.
“It’s sweltering cooped up like this. Hopefully we can get out of here soon.” I released my hair from the ponytail holder, circled the long strands in a messy bun, and re-secured it.
“Sounds like the worst part of the storm is over.” He peered through the door. “I need to check everything out, make sure water didn’t get inside the plane and soak all our stuff.”
God, he was impossibly gorgeous, and my entire body tingled watching him lean forward. His thigh was so close, and I clenched my hands together to keep from touching him. It was hard for me to understand how he had that much power over me—the attraction, the chemistry, and the intense feeling
s of how good he was at delivering explosive sex.
Lost in taking in his messy hair, five o’clock shadow, chiseled jaw, and those fucking ripped arms, I didn’t notice his dark eyes locking on mine until he pulled in a deep breath, drawing my own gaze to connect with his. My heart beat wildly upon seeing the flare staring back.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me through the opening into the misting rain. The cool drizzle felt refreshing on my skin but didn’t even come close to extinguishing the sizzling blood coursing through my veins.
Our fingers intertwined as he led me outside. “Stand under the palm. I’ll be right back.”
He was halfway to the plane before I couldn’t stand it any longer. I’d witnessed the dark desire in his eyes before he walked away, and I knew he was breathing hard by the way his back rose and fell quickly.
Fuck the things in the plane!
Fuck wasting precious time!
“Garrett.”
He looked over his shoulder and stopped. Passion glared back at me as I took off after him, throwing myself into his arms and climbing up his body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and circled my legs around his hips as he cupped my ass, holding me against him as our lips crashed into each other.
He opened his mouth with urgency, brushing his tongue against mine, and I eagerly sought more. Vaguely aware of him walking, I then felt my back pressed against the cold wet metal of the plane. Unable to think properly, my fingers kneaded the locks of his thick hair of their own accord.
Growling, he pressed me hard against the plane, hoisting me into place as he pushed the aqua tank top over my head and tossed it aside. His hand cupped my breast and sought my erect nipple, his lips licking, gently teasing the nub with his teeth. I reached between us, unfastening the snap of his shorts and rolling down his zipper.
As I trailed the length of him, he let out a fierce needy groan. Shoving himself hard against me, I eased my legs down to get out of my shorts. His hands yanked them down my hips as I cupped and stroked from crown to base.
Finding Wicked Page 12
