by Lyz Kelley
When she hugged her mother and father with a friendly candor, another pang of envy rolled over Garrett. The Carvers had a ton of money, but each member understood their role and seemed to agree family was more important than wealth, but pulled together to reach their goals. Like his family did. He stood in the spectator stands, wishing he could play and be a real part of their team.
Weston studied him, and then McKenzie. “I’m warning you, if he becomes ungentlemanly, I will personally see he doesn’t walk again.”
She hugged her sister-in-law, then lifted on her toes and kissed her eldest brother on the cheek. “Take it easy, tough guy. Garrett’s on our side, remember?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s a guy thing. We take care of our own.”
“Funny, that’s what Garrett said.”
His pride got a jolt of energy from her comment. He hadn’t expected her to defend him, but that was what she’d done the whole evening. In fact, her entire family had stood behind him, supported him, showing the hospital community and the media a united and formidable front. It felt good, really good, but would the Carvers have supported him if he wasn’t posing as a besotted fiancé?
He should disconnect the emotional ties now, not let the affections for her to grow. He had to protect her, especially from him.
Weston released her when his phone vibrated. “My driver is waiting out front.”
“What about Courtney?”
“Stop worrying? That’s my job. I’ll see to my wife.”
Courtney’s eyes flashed. “Just because I’m pregnant, does not mean I’m an invalid. I will see to myself, thank you very much.”
She squeezed Weston’s face between the palms of her hands and kissed him on the nose. “Love you. Appreciate you. I love you too.” She squeezed Courtney’s hand.
“Don’t embarrass me, or I’ll bury you in work.” He smirked with a playfulness muting his serious air. “Now go.”
Garrett watched the exchange, and then moved to her side when Weston beckoned.
“Would you mind accompanying her home? I would see her home safely, but Courtney and I want to discuss a few things with Dad.”
Trust. A precious thing.
“Weston, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Garrett extended his hand. “Courtney,” he nodded.
What he would have liked to say was honor, if it wouldn’t have sounded so formal…distant.
In a single night, his opinion of the wealthy had forever changed. His notion that all rich people were self-centered, egotistical, money-craving, backstabbing assholes had been obliterated in a puff of smoke.
He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
When she slid her hand around his bicep, a tender warmth slid up his arm.
The miniature steps necessary so she wouldn’t trip over the hem of her dress required patience. He could have prepped for an operation in the time they took to maneuver to the front of the hotel. Arriving at the side of the town car, he helped fold her and the dress in before moving to the opposite side. Once settled, he took her hand, and the car pulled from the curb. She leaned her head back and slipped out of shoes that should never be worn six hours at a stretch. Every chiropractor would tell a woman that three-inch heels were bad for the back, hips, and feet. He rubbed her feet in silence.
“That feels so good,” She almost purred. “The rubbing is taking away my headache.”
“I’m glad. You handled everything flawlessly. I know tonight was hard for you.”
“It wasn’t just hard for me.” Serious dark eyes met his. “You could have backed out, but I’m glad you agreed to come. I saw you talking to several of the hospital Board members.”
Public functions weren’t his thing. He had a good idea how zoo animals felt—caged and on display. “Your family is great. You might have just saved my career.”
“It was all you.” She reached over to straighten his tie. “You dodged a few punches tonight. My father isn’t easily impressed, and you wrangled a nod of approval.”
“That’s rare. I’m normally the first to be tossed out on my ass.” He tugged on her toes. “Mac, we still need to talk about yesterday.”
The sedan pulled parallel with the curb in front of her apartment.
Giving him a once-over, she moved from his face to his sweaty palms to his shoes filled with cramped, aching toes that had been jammed into patent leather hours ago. The sensual perusal left no question what she wanted—him, in her bed. He couldn’t let that happen. She deserved caviar, and he was just common fish eggs.
“Let me change first. The train of this dress can be unmanageable, and I’d like to be able to move freely.”
What he wanted to say would have been easier in the car, but it could wait. He squeezed her hand. The driver opened her door. It took a few minutes, but he got her to the elevator.
Once inside her apartment, she headed for the kitchen with itty bitty steps. He stayed behind to close and bolt the door because she would feel safer.
As she went around the corner, George popped out from behind the wall and attacked the burgundy fabric dragging along the hardwood floor.
“You beast,” she said, trying to swat at the cat.
Garrett laughed and picked up the orange brat, scratching George under the chin. “Someone needs to teach you manners, young man. I suppose there’s a good reason you only have three legs.”
She pressed her shoulder blades together, trying to reach the dress zipper. “I can’t breathe.”
“Let me help.” He placed George on the floor and moved behind her. She swooped her hair forward. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight. Sliding the zipper south, he exposed a black bra and matching lace panties. By the time she turned back to him, he’d stepped back, making sure she remained out of his reach.
“Would you mind feeding George? His dinner’s that can on the counter,” she said before he could respond. “I’ll just be a minute.”
The silkiness of her white skin in contrast to black lace made all self-sacrificing thoughts pause. He grabbed the back of a chair. Hot, sexy images caused multiple body parts to come to attention. His hands tightened around the smooth wood.
The sultry, bluesy tune she hummed from inside her bedroom conjured the image of sheer fabric falling away from her soft skin, leaving only black lace.
George didn’t care. He sat at Garrett’s feet and waited for his dinner.
“I told her this wasn’t a good idea. Any suggestions on how I might get out of this without hurting her? I’d like to keep both my legs, if you know what I mean?”
George blinked and yawned.
“Thanks for the support, buddy.”
What did Garrett want to talk about? What a silly question. She knew what he wanted to say. The way he held back, polite, but showing none of the passion he’d shown yesterday, made her cautious. He’d pulled her aside just after they had entered the hotel lobby. Fear that he’d changed his mind about continuing with their arrangement and possibly fear of rejection, had made her immediately seek the company of others to avoid having such a serious public conversation. She didn’t want to have that type of discussion in a dress that didn’t expand even a centimeter.
The night’s events had provided her time to consider ways to counter his arguments and convince him she would keep her promise. She didn’t want him to distance himself. She liked his company. Even more, she craved his touch. He’d told her where he stood on relationships. She would respect his boundaries, but he didn’t know the whole story, only what he’d read in the papers.
From her bedroom doorway, she observed him leaning against the counter, legs and arms crossed, head down, watching George eat. She wished the tense frown on his face would disappear.
Her slippers shushed over the carpet. “That feels better. Would you like some wine?” She selected a bottle of white from the refrigerator before opening the crystal cupboard.
“Sure,” he said without looking up.
She set the bottle and glasses on
the counter and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready to listen.”
“It would be better if we sat down.”
“Please, just say what you need to say. But don’t tell me yesterday was a mistake.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands up and down her sleeves to stop the descending chill.
He released his bow tie and pulled at the top of his shirt, undoing the top button, and then leaned his hands on the counter, the brown chest hairs curling around the edge of his white shirt.
“Mac, this is a dangerous game we’re playing.”
“There are rules. And there is an attraction. Neither of us can deny that. You’re addicting.”
“You’re right. I can’t stop thinking about you, feeling you in my arms.” He threw up his hands. “You think I’m addicting. You’re addicting.”
“Then, why?”
“Being with you yesterday was perfect. Why can’t we leave it as it is? Not mess with what we shared?”
If only she could twist his arguments to make him understand. Life had a way of balancing with good on one side and bad on the other. Nothing could remain perfect forever. Of all people, she knew that.
She tipped the wine bottle and filled each glass with enough liquid to hopefully ease the tension and loosen their tongues. “I hear you. I do. A few years ago I might have said those same words. That’s why I respect your concerns. But for us, it’s not that way.”
His brows snapped together like a binder clip, pinching the skin of his temples together. “What way is it, then?”
“All my life I’ve been driven. I lost my best friend when I was seventeen. She meant the world to me, and losing her made me realize how short life could be. Nothing was ever good enough. I jumped on the treadmill of life and didn’t look back—until three years ago. I had no doubt my stalker would kill me. In those dark hours, I questioned everything about my life. I regretted not painting more or spending time with friends or traveling to faraway places I’d put off seeing.”
“I get that your past changed you, but what does that have to do with us?” He rubbed the back of his neck to massage away the confusion.
“Everything.” She pushed away from the counter and placed her hand on his chest. “I don’t want to live with regrets anymore. Liam thinks I want to get married, live happily ever after…but honestly? I don’t expect the stars to align. Until you came along, I had no idea how much fear I still hadn’t processed and resolved. I don’t want to live in the past anymore. I want to replace those memories with happy ones. And they don’t have to be perfect to be happy.” She studied his expression. “I want to experience each day.” She stroked down his ribbed shirt and over the button studs, one by one.
“This isn’t just about you. It’s about me, too.” His hands slid around her wrists, his gaze intense. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve had enough hurt for one lifetime.”
Here and now, she grabbed at happiness, holding onto that feeling, if only for a day or two longer. She took a deep breath.
“Stay with me. Let’s see where this”—she circled her hand in the air between them—“whatever it is, goes. When I’m with you, I have renewed curiosity and joy, and my heart is light. That means something.”
His weary expression met hers. “No strings attached. When it’s done, it’s done. No hurt feelings.”
With a finger, she drew an X over her heart. “Scout’s honor. Besides, I’d like you to be able to see Ellie grow. You made it possible for her to have a normal life. It’s important she gets the chance to know her hero.”
The skeptical lines on his face eased. “There’s one more condition.”
“Name it.” The words zoomed from her lips before a second could pass.
“I don’t want to have unprotected sex. I promised myself years ago there were enough children like Ellie in the world, and I didn’t need to procreate. I didn’t put a condom in my wallet tonight to make sure I behaved myself.”
She’d won. A thrill of victory raced a lap around her heart. “I can live with that.”
He pressed his lips to hers, running his tongue over her bottom lip. It took all her strength not to thrust her hips forward or slide her arms around his neck or pull him closer. She wouldn’t fail his test. She wanted to spend the next few days exploring possibilities in the insulated world they’d built.
“There’s a bag of Liam’s workout stuff in my closet that might fit you, if you’d like to change. You don’t look very comfortable.”
“I haven’t been since I put this penguin suit on.”
She opened the hall closet and hauled out a bulky black sports bag. “Liam left his gym bag in my car. I washed everything, but keep forgetting to return it.”
Accepting the bag, he kissed her on the nose. “Be back in a minute.”
His broad shoulders disappeared into her bedroom, and she pushed the tension from her body. The bump against her leg made her glance down.
“At least I got him to stay.” George rammed his head into her shin in a show of approval. She squatted and lifted the big boy into her arms. “You like Dr. Branston, don’t you?” While nuzzling George’s fur the conversation with Garrett replayed. “Let’s hope we can back away when the time comes.”
Chapter 16
Garrett enjoyed the feel of McKenzie’s warm body wrapped around his. Her soft, velvety skin made him ache to be in her. First thing on his list to do—buy condoms. But a lack of condoms wouldn’t stop him from enjoying making her wriggle with his touch.
He slid his palm up her thigh, nudging her legs wide to touch hot moisture. At his gentle touch, she opened like a flower. Using his fingers to learn every sensitive spot, he dove deeper until each fold was swollen and her hips pressed forward.
His need to taste and feel and explore became unbearable. He used his palms and fingertips to caress her skin, and his thumbs to roll over her swollen nipples. When she turned toward him, he seized her mouth with his and thrust his tongue deep. He wanted her to explode. Her body bucked, but he held her in place with a hand on her belly.
The early morning light spread across her breasts and her beautiful, half-awake eyes, which were pleading with him to send her into the heavenly abyss.
God, she’s beautiful.
God help him.
Thrusting his fingers deeper and faster her channel clenched and her muscles pulsated. He soared on the intensity of the feelings and sensations pumping through his veins. When her muscles eased and she sagged, he stretched out beside her and she kissed his shoulder.
She turned her head and cradled her nose in the curve of his neck. “That’s a lovely way to wake up. Now it’s your turn.”
“It was indeed a good morning. But we should get up. We have things to do.”
“No. Can’t we ignore the world for one day?” She placed a pillow over her head.
He laughed and made his way to the pastel blue and white bathroom, contemplating what the hell had just happened. His determination to avoid getting involved had dissolved into a pathetic pile of mush.
She happened, the little voice in his head smirked.
Working to unscramble his brain and dissipate the erotic aftershocks, he lathered his fingers with soap.
Since the first time he’d seen her, nothing in his life had gone according to plan. His cock had taken over, and he couldn’t think straight. He needed to control the situation.
George sauntered into the bathroom and rubbed his head against Garrett’s leg. “I thought we males were on the same side. You slept on my head most of the night. Why couldn’t you have slept in between us?”
The feline stared at him with a superior expression on his furry face. Garrett curled his lip at the cat, and then reached down and tugged on his tail, getting an indignant look for his efforts.
“That’s what you get.” George toddled under his legs, brushing his tail against his skin. “And yes. She has me wrapped around her finger, just like your furry tail.”
He moved closer to the mirror. A scowling
face stared back at him. He turned the right faucet handle, rinsed his hands, and stuck his head under, letting the cold water flush away any residual ideas of returning to her bed and repeating the morning’s wake-up call.
After trying to wipe the infatuation off his face with a towel, he dropped the wet cloth over the rack and walked to the end of the bed to slide on his tux pants and shirt. He was looking for the studs when a slight sound and the aroma of coffee made him turn.
McKenzie stood in the doorway, offering him a mug full of the black liquid. Her toes peeked out from beneath the hem of her purple flannel bed pants, and her hair flared away from her face. She looked thoroughly trounced and enormously happy.
“You seem angry. Why?” she asked, a curious softness creasing the corners of her eyes.
His mouth opened, but no answer came out. How could he make her understand the frustration and angst he’d gone through trying to figure out how to end things?
She’d agreed that this fling, or whatever it was, would end. She could and would walk away, no second thoughts. But could he? Short-term didn’t seem right, especially with someone of her class. But she deserved someone better, richer, more connected. He wouldn’t stop her from moving on, but it might crush the remaining bits of his heart. Around three a.m., he’d concluded being with her was where he wanted to be, but in the morning light his decision wobbled.
I’m screwed. “I’m not angry.” He accepted the coffee. “I’ve met a lot of women, none like you. You surprise me. That’s all.”
“I hope I’m a nice surprise.” The sexy overtones in her voice made him want to explore and open more of her special gifts. The rosy marks on her skin from his stubble and the brilliant ray of light from her eyes made him want to play and get tangled up in sheets.
“Please, don’t run away.”
“Who said anything about running?”
She quirked a questioning eyebrow. “I did. Neither of us is looking for a commitment, only a little bit of comfort in this cruel world. You realize we’re both consenting adults. I enjoy your company, and I hope you enjoy mine. We could be friends with benefits.”
