He laughs, clearly not buying my denial for one second. “Anything you say, sugar. I’m here all day if you wanna look.” Garrett lifts an arm and flexes as he brings his coffee mug to his lips, exaggerating the pose like a male model.
Except he’d put any model to shame.
I clench my jaw. Offense is always the best defense, as I’ve learned from my years on charity committees and society luncheons, so I meet his stare head-on. “I owe you an apology.”
Garrett blinks, looking surprised, so I press on.
“I shouldn’t have barged in here last night, and made such a scene. You’re right, I don’t have any claim on the house anymore, I sold my share, and if Emerson said you could stay, then that’s the way it is. I didn’t think,” I add quietly. “I just needed to get away, and I figured this place would be empty.”
Garrett watches me. “What are you doing here?” His eyes pierce into me, assessing. “Shouldn’t you be back home, planning the wedding of the century, or whatever it is you do?”
His words strike me, and I feel an ache of regret. My beautiful wedding, all the planning I’ve done. I know it seems trivial now, after everything, but I’ve spent months on picking out the flowers, the decorations, the perfect raspberry white chocolate ganache cake.
I guess I thought if I created my dream wedding, it would somehow force a dream marriage to exist.
I look away. “That’s why I came out here,” I lie quickly. “There’s so much to do, I need some peace and quiet.”
“Well, you sure found it here.” Garrett nods, and for the first time, I realize how true it is. There’s no traffic, no sound at all around us save Garrett’s foot tapping rhythmically against the wooden porch railing, and the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
I breathe it in, surprised. Even in our neighborhood, with its strict rules and regulations, my life is never silent at home. There’s always the buzz of a gardener trimming hedges, construction on somebody’s new addition, or just the sound of Martha running laundry in our basement all day. I keep the stereo playing too, pumping music and talk shows from the moment I wake up until the minute Alexander arrives home from work—when he heads straight to the lounge and turns on CNN.
Silence. I look around, feeling it settle in my bones. It’s a relief, but it scares me too. In the silence, there’s no place to hide from your own thoughts, no matter how bleak they feel.
“Stay as long as you like.”
I snap my head around, startled to hear Garrett’s voice break through my reverie.
“What?”
I blink, sure I’m hearing things. I wait for the quip or catch, but none comes, and when I meet his eyes, Garrett is looking at me with something new in his expression, a quiet curiosity replacing his easy charm, “There’s plenty of room. I’m off at the bar most nights, or out,” he adds, shrugging. “So, it’s cool if you stay.”
I pause, thrown. “Thank you,” I say slowly, still trying to figure him out. I watch him with narrowed eyes, still remembering our run-in at the wedding, when he taunted and provoked me, then left me flailing in the snow. “But I don’t know what my plans are. I might go check into a spa or something,” I tell him, trying to sound breezy.
Garrett shrugs, unconcerned. “Suit yourself.”
“Besides,” I can’t help adding, “I’m hardly going to get any peace with your ‘friends’ coming and going at all hours.”
A flicker of tension crosses Garrett’s face.
“Do Emerson and Juliet know you’re using this place as a personal love shack?” I continue, feeling a sharp ache of bitterness. If he wasn’t here, I would be left alone like I wanted—able to think and breathe and figure the mess of my life out. Instead, I’m stuck dealing with a whirlwind of desire, the last thing I need right now.
Garrett narrows his eyes. “You seem mighty interested in what I get up to in the bedroom.” He lifts an eyebrow suggestively. “Maybe ‘rest’ isn’t all you’re here for.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Garrett takes a step towards me. Suddenly, the mood changes, the light banter forgotten. “Well, I’ve been thinking,” he murmurs, moving close enough to touch. My breath catches in my throat. “Maybe this whole high-strung bitch thing is just an act. Maybe you knew I’d be here.” Garrett’s eyes are dark, a knowing gleam to the midnight pools. “Maybe, I’m the whole reason you came.”
My pulse kicks, rising to his nearness. He’s too close to me, too much, his physicality overwhelming me, just like before, but I fight to stay in control. “What are you talking about?” I demand.
Garrett smiles. “You’re getting itchy feet,” he muses, reaching out to trail one finger down the side of my cheek. I startle at his touch, but for some reason, I can’t pull away. It’s like I’m caught in the heat, shimmering, thick in the air between us. The dry crackle of lightening, right before a summer storm.
“You’re wondering what you’re missing,” Garrett continues, leaning closer. His lips brush my earlobe, his breath hot against my cheek.
Oh God.
I feel the whisper of heat spiral through my body, and I have to hold onto the railings to keep my legs from giving way.
“You came to get me alone for one last fling,” Garrett continues, stroking his finger along my jaw. I shudder under his touch, hypnotized. The world melts away, and nothing else exists but his dark, knowing gaze and the liquid gold of his touch. I feel it everywhere, molten in my veins, curling lower, tighter, wanting.