The travel channel…the cooking shows with endless fish recipes…the ads in magazines for the woodsy cologne he wore…the sound of airplanes flying over…and most recently, the summer line of clothes photographed with none other than the topaz waters of the Caribbean.
All roads led my thoughts to Garrett.
I opened a file on my computer and took out my frustrations on the job I’d been assigned, not even realizing it was past five in the afternoon by the time I finally looked up.
He hadn’t called or texted, and neither had I. Staring at the beautiful flowers, I debated whether or not to toss them in the trash, and even circled my hands around the glass.
Holding them in the air, about to drop them in the trashcan, my fingers trembled.
I couldn’t do it.
Sliding the monstrous arrangement back to the corner of the desk, I grabbed my purse and left for the day.
The drive home under the bright blue summer sky in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the freeway didn’t help my already threadbare sanity. Seashells? He’d sent me a reminder of the very place I yearned to forget. When I pulled into my drive, the skies were still bright, the complete opposite of my mood.
No…way.
No. Fucking. Way.
A dozen long-stemmed red roses lay on each of the three steps leading to the front porch of my townhouse, and another vase of two dozen sat in the center at the top.
This has to stop.
He can’t win me back.
Or can he?
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I grabbed my phone and pressed my finger to his name.
Me: This has to stop. You promised. You may not mean to, but you’re hurting me.
He didn’t reply, and I blew out a breath, though I didn’t feel relief. I waited in my car for more than ten minutes, hoping he would respond, but he didn’t.
Finally, I climbed out of the front seat of my car and made my way along the red brick path, picking up all the floral deliveries. There wasn’t a card, but there didn’t have to be one.
That night, sleep didn’t come. Several times, I threw the covers back and marched into the dining room table just to sink my nose into the petals and breathe in the sweet scent.
Each time, I checked my cell for his response, but it never came.
Maybe the day had come when he’d actually give up on me, and the thought twisted my gut.
Was I playing hard to get? Was I trying to make him crawl?
What do you want, Brooke?
By the next morning, I looked as bad as I felt. Sleep-deprived and feeling on edge, I went to work. Thankfully, my immediate supervisor had to fly to New York for an engagement with a new designer, leaving me to stew in my office all alone.
Maybe I needed a Lola’s date with Greta.
Me: Are you up for Lola’s tonight?
Greta: Sorry, I have plans.
Me: Anyone I know?
Greta: Busy right now. I’ll call you later.
The day flew by, and I knew I didn’t want to go home to an empty house with nothing but time.
Me: Would love to see you again tonight.
Jennings: Tomorrow would be better. I have a date tonight.
Me: I didn’t know you were dating anyone.
Jennings: You never asked.
Me: Ha, true. Maybe someday I can meet her.
Jennings: Of course.
Well that’s just great. I supposed it was going to be a night with the cooking channel again. After visiting my mom, I curled up under my blanket, ate some grilled chicken and a salad, and drowned in my own misery. I wondered what Garrett was doing. I wondered if he was thinking of me…
Brooke, you deserve better than that. You don’t deserve to be used, even if it was before he really knew you. I chastised myself, forbidding another trip down memory lane.
The next day came and went. Late in the afternoon, Jennings called.
“Want to grab something to eat?”
“Sure. Have you ever been to a place called Lola’s?”
“I’ve been there a time or two.”
“If you’re game, it’s my treat.”
“Want to go right now?”
“I’d love to.”
I arrived before him and was seated in the corner of the terrace at a bar-height bistro table. The waitress brought the bottle of wine I’d ordered, placing it in the center of the table and assuring me she would return as soon as my date arrived.
When Jennings walked through the entrance, it took me a minute to realize he wasn’t alone.
He was with…Greta.
I bit back a fit of giggles and hopped off the tall chair, throwing my arms around her.
“I don’t believe it.”
“You look so good, Brooke.”
“You do too. I’ve missed you.” I eyed Jennings. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We thought it would be better if we told you together, in person,” he replied with a smile.
“She’s been crazy about you for a while now.”
“Our age difference doesn’t bother you?”
“Not at all. She didn’t tell you I encouraged her to be a little more persuasive?”
He laughed. “She told me.”
While eating, we talked and laughed a lot, and when the sun ducked behind the buildings, I thought of the sunsets on the island. The memories tore at my heart, and my facial expression must have shown a hint of misery.
“He’s not the same,” Greta said.
“Greta,” Jennings warned.
“Are you trying to say he’s more of an ass or just more of a jackass?”
She shook her head. “If he comes into work at all, he stays locked up in his office. He orders me to hold all of his calls, unless they’re from you. He’s weary and has dark circles under his eyes. This morning, his Gammy called, and he wouldn’t even talk to her.”
He didn’t talk to Gammy?
Holy hell.
“Did he have you send the flowers?”
“He sent you flowers?”
“A vase of tulips filled with seashells at work, and dozens of roses at my house.”
She shook her head. “No. That was all him.”
I squeezed my eyes closed. “It’s getting harder to deal with this.”
“There’s something else.”
“Greta, I think you need to let this be between Brooke and Garrett. It’s not our mess to fix. It’s his.”
“What? What else?”
“He…he called off the deal with La Amory.”
My jaw gaped; I was baffled, in shock. I felt as though I were free falling into an abyss, a cleft of no return.
“Why…why would he do that?”
“He didn’t say, but Jennings sent over the final review of the paperwork, relinquishing the money.”
“The escrow money?”
“Gone. He can’t get it back.”
“Oh my God, I saw the amount on the contract—it was millions of dollars.”
“I know. We tried to reason with him, but he simple walked into his office and slammed the door behind him…after he reminded me he was the CEO and I was the secretary.”
“When did he do this?”
“Last night, but technically this morning. It was after hours when he sent out the announcement.”
“Are you still his attorney?” My head whirled to Jennings.
“For a few more weeks. I terminated our business relationship, but I’m locked in for ninety days to give him enough time to establish a legal agreement with another firm.”
“Can you stop this? Can you reinstate the contract?”
Frown lines extended across his forehead. “No.”
“Call Salvatore as his attorney. Stop the freaking default.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“He made his decision very clear. It’s his choice.”
“Stall it for one day, that’s all I’m asking—one day.”
“I don’t
have anything to stall. I’ve already had the documents delivered to Garrett’s office.”
Greta wore a sheepish grin. “He might not be able to, but I can. I haven’t faxed the papers or put them in the overnight envelope.”
“He’ll fire you, Greta,” Jennings warned before taking a sip of wine.
“I’ll find another job.”
I grabbed her hand from across the table. “I gotta go. Greta, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Hopping to my feet, I scrambled for my purse where it hung on the back of the wrought-iron chair. “I’m going to see him before it’s too late. I have to stop him from making this huge mistake.”
“When I left, he was at the penthouse in his office. I don’t know if he’s still there,” Greta explained.
“Is this what you want, Brooke? You can’t do this because of guilt,” Jennings said, concern lacing his tone.
“It’s not guilt. If I didn’t care about him, I wouldn’t care if he drained his accounts dry and lost everything he possessed. I love him. I really really love him.”
Jennings stood, and I flew into his embrace. His strong arms held me tight against him, and there wasn’t even a hint of the threat of tears. For the first time since coming home, I knew exactly what I wanted—and what I didn’t want to lose.
Jennings repeated my declaration. “You love him.”
“I do. I think I fell in love with him that first day, if that’s possible. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but I’ve proven to myself it can happen.”
“You can love another and not even know them—I know that for a fact.” His warm eyes raked over my face.
I drank in his words, and an all-consuming warmth spread through me. He loved me.
“I believe that too.” I kissed his cheek and whispered, “Dad.”
Greta dabbed her eyes with her napkin. “Oh my God.”
“Uh, if you two marry someday, don’t expect me to call you Mom—ever.”
Jennings threw his head back in laughter, and I caught a glimpse of Greta’s dramatic eye roll before I scurried to the exit.
I wanted Garrett, and I was going to go get him… if it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 31
The yellow metal arm lifted as soon as I swiped my card at the entrance of the parking garage at Mitchell Enterprises. Instead of Garrett’s usual sleek black Porsche Carrera, a black-on-black motorcycle was parked next to the elevator. I wheeled in beside the beastly piece of machinery. It fit him, awakening the senses, radiating raw sexiness—like the man himself, powerful and confident.
God, I’d missed him.
His touch.
His soft, sinful kisses.
His deliciously wicked kisses.
Inside the elevator, the same card changed the small red light to green to signal access to the top floor. My heart slammed against my chest and my pulse pounded in my ears. I’d worked so hard to forget him, to forget his touch and how much I loved him.
I stepped out of the car, and the sound of my heels against the marble echoed down the dim hallway in front of Greta’s desk. The doors were closed to both mine and Garrett’s offices.
I took a brief moment to look around. I’d missed being there, and hot tears pricked my eyes. It’s crazy how life changes in the blink of an eye. A month before, I’d been living a simple life, and now I marched toward a door that could complicate the hell out of it.
Pushing open the door to his darkened office, his scent washed over me, and I stood there breathing it in for a moment. It sent tingles down my spine, all the way to the tips of my toes.
It was sinful, wicked, and heavenly all at the same time.
I took in another deep intoxicating inhalation before making my way to the heavy mahogany door to his penthouse. I’d never been inside, and Greta’s brief description hadn’t even come close to capturing the luxury of it. A glowing lamp sat on table beside a cream sofa, offering enough light to see how beautiful the room really was.
To the right, there was a nicely sized bar with an assortment of bottles and crystal containers, and to the left, a gourmet kitchen with white cabinets and black granite. I shook my head at his impeccable taste.
I crept down the small hallway in the too-quiet room, careful not to make a sound in case he was asleep. With a trembling hand, I turned the knob and opened the door.
He wasn’t there.
The pristinely made bed hadn’t been slept in.
“That’s great…just freaking great,” I mumbled.
Maybe it was a sign.
Maybe it had just been an idiotic idea.
Walking like a robot, I eased down on the bed, lost in emotion. One minute I was rubbing my hand across the softness of the dark gray comforter, the next I lay my head against the pillow and curled up on my side, feeling scared and relaxed all at the same time.
I wasn’t afraid of loving him; I was afraid he wanted me but didn’t love me. He’d made me feel how much he wanted and missed me, and thoughts of how much I loved being in his arms relaxed me.
He’d never said he loved me, but the look in his eyes when he’d walked away had said he felt something deep for me. I saw the regret of his mistake.
I closed my eyes in the cool darkness, remembering the way his lips had scorched my skin, the way he’d worshiped my body, the way he could hypnotize me with his eyes. I relived the memories of our ‘date’, dancing to music on the shore in clothes meant for a formal night though we were in the middle of nowhere underneath an audience of twinkling stars and a blue moon. I bit back the smile tugging my lips. That night had been the best night of my life, so comfortable and relaxed.
“What are you doing Brooke?” His voice sounded husky and demanding.
Startled, I sat straight up. “Looking for you.”
“You’re in my bed.” It wasn’t a question, more like a sultry, hungry growl.
Damn, he was hot, wearing jeans, a black polo, and black leather boots.
“Yes…”
He moved toward me like a predator, almost warrior-like. In the darkness, I couldn’t make out his expression, but I felt the burn from his appraising gaze, the heat permeating the air.
Standing beside the bed, he cupped the sides of my face. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”
I swallowed hard and gave him a nervous smile.
It was the moment of truth.
“I missed you. Plus, I wanted to personally thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful.”
He brushed his thumbs across my skin and my flesh tingled. His touch did me in, and I turned my head slightly to press a kiss to the palm of his left hand.
“You are so gorgeous,” he said with a groan.
I arched upward, clutching the fabric covering his chest, and pulled him down to me while crawling up on my knees. My pulse raced as he devoured me for endless seconds before kissing me hard and fierce. I pulled at his shirt eagerly, deepening the needy, controlling kiss as he plunged his tongue inside my inviting mouth.
We frantically tugged his shirt over his head then he grasped the fabric of my blush pink blouse, and in a masterful move, the buttons scattered across the room. I wildly yanked at the snap at the waist of my black dress pants.
“I want to own your perfect body and fuck you until you want to own me too,” he whispered against my lips.
“I’m yours to own.”
He eased the straps of my bra down my shoulders and unfastened the clasp in the back. In a flash, all of my clothes were scattered about the room, and he laid me down carefully on the mattress.
Before joining me, he reached over, turning off the lamp, and then he climbed over me, rising up on his elbows. He surveyed my body then trailed his tongue down my skin, inching his way to kneeling between my legs.
I slid my hands down his waist to his hips, holding him tight and arching my body upward. He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper as I helped tug them down his legs. Writhing in anticipation, his hardness sprang free and I wrapped my hand aroun
d him, gliding up and down his velvety, veined arousal. I watched his lust-filled eyes darken and sweep over my breasts before cupping them with a greedy touch.
Rubbing my nipples between his fingers, he leaned in, flicking his tongue over one of the beaded nubs until all the thoughts in my brain blurred.
I continued stroking him, and his chest heaved in and out as he let out a deep throaty groan. “Damn, that feels so good.”
My mouth watered, and my eyes locked on his hard shaft. “Make love to me, Garrett.”
Hovering his naked weight over me, he leaned down and kissed me hard. My body eased into the bed with him following while our tongues dueled an erotic duet. It was as if he claimed and owned me in that moment, and I made sure he knew I claimed and owned him back.
He was mine, and I wasn’t letting go.
He trailed his finger through my crevice, and I whimpered for more, in a frenzy.
“You’re always so wet for me.”
Arching my hips upward, I begged, “Please, Garrett, take me.”
He pressed the tip of his hardness against my slit, rubbing it back and forth until I heard my own voice begging him for more in a ragged wail.
He slid his hard length all the way in and I let out a loud pleasured moan. “Oh my God, yes.”
“You’re so tight, like you were made for me.” He eased out easy and slow then plunged into me harder, sinking all the way to the hilt.
He lowered his mouth to mine while he thrust forward in a slow rhythm, elbows framing my head. It was as if he were trying to make it last forever, and my legs wrapped around his hips, meeting him in a hard, accepting thrust.
Our kiss broke, and I ground out, “Harder. Take me, Garrett.”
His eyes locked on mine, and there was something predatory in them as he buried himself deep inside with hard thrusts, executing my plea.
I moaned, begging unmercifully for more. “I’ve missed this. I love how you feel inside me. Oh, God, I’ve missed this.”
It was as if my words poured gasoline on a fire and he drove into me harder, again and again. I couldn’t hold back the explosion of fireworks as I plunged over the edge. Pleasure ripped through every cell in my body, and I cried out his name. My body bucked beneath him in wild acceptance as he gave me everything he had to give.
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