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Shuffling into the kitchen, Nichole just nodded at him, looking adorably exhausted as she folded herself into a kitchen chair and then tried to cover an enormous yawn with her small hand.
“Okay, but your kind is notorious for taking things apart and leaving them that way. Indefinitely. Anything you touch in this place gets put back to rights within the week.” She slanted a look at him. “Regardless of whether this thing with us has run its course.”
Giving them less than a week to run their course? Grumpy, grumpy. She didn’t need to worry about his taking her place apart piece by piece. It was a habit, but one he intended to kick. With Nichole, he didn’t want to be the guy who had to fix everything.
Okay, he’d fix the baseboard … because now that he’d seen it, the damn thing would nag at the back of his mind until he knew it was taken care of. But that was it.
Garrett looked between Nichole and the coffee. After the baseboard, the only thing he’d fix for Nichole was a hot cup of joe. Grabbing a mug from the tree beside the pot, he poured her a cup. “Cream? Sugar?”
A smile flickered at the corner of her mouth as she looked him up and down. “Whipped cream.”
With a shrug, he turned for the fridge, but Nichole was already up and walking over. “Thank you, Garrett, but I’ll get it dressed up. I’m kind of particular.”
“Sure.” Even better.
He watched her navigating her space, seeing a routine he never would have thought to imagine, liking the look of her in the morning in this environment that so few would have the opportunity to experience.
Possessive satisfaction swelled within him at the thought, urging him into closer contact. His fingers played through her hair as she topped off her coffee with skim milk, swirled a spoon through the pale brew and then clinked it at the side of the mug twice.
Another sideways glance and she was looking very amused. “So, was it … good for you?”
The overnight.
Giving in to the laugh Nichole always seemed to pull from him, he nodded. “Very.”
“Seriously, how is it you’ve never spent the night with a woman before?”
Garrett took her hand and led her over to the breakfast nook by the bay window and, setting down his own coffee rather than giving up the loose hold he had on her fingers, pulled out her chair. “It just always seemed more of a complication than it would be worth.”
But then, he hadn’t exactly known what he was missing.
Parking it across the table, he threw back half his own mug—more about the infusion of caffeine than the lingering warmth he’d take his time over on the next cup.
“Really?” she asked, pulling her feet up beneath her as she settled in. “I guess I would have thought in some ways making a getaway would be more complicated.”
Nichole brought the mug to her lips and took a long swallow, her satisfaction all too distracting. But she’d asked a question. And, though the answer wasn’t exactly simple, he trusted her with it.
“Not really. I mean, at first it just wasn’t an option. I didn’t go off to college at eighteen like most of the other guys did, so it wasn’t like I could just sneak some co-ed into my dorm. I was living at home with my four sisters. Basically raising them.”
“Wait—Bethany’s a year older than you, and wasn’t your mom still around? I mean weren’t there times you could have got away if you’d wanted to? Weren’t there co-eds trying to sneak you into their dorms?”
Sure there were. Truth be told, there had been for years. “Yeah, but there was a lot going on. Our situation at home was pretty precarious for a number of reasons. My parents hadn’t done a lot of contingency planning. There was a small policy that got us through the first couple years, but my mom didn’t work, and I didn’t want the girls’ futures to die with my dad. Bethany was smart as hell. Always making those gifted programs at school. A hell of a lot more going on than I ever had, that’s for sure. And with the earning potential in the house pretty well limited to what I could eke out, her grades were her ticket into college. So that was her job and she nailed it. Free ride right through.”
Nichole was smiling at him then, and he knew she’d seen the pride he couldn’t contain when it came to his older sister.
“Which was great, but it meant she was basically gone by the time I was seventeen.” He’d never been a senior in high school, because by then he’d dropped out to work full-time. Everyone had helped out in the day-to-day—but the money, the bills, keeping the house fixed up had fallen to Garrett.
“My mom had always been kind of fragile. I have no idea how she managed to have five kids, but even before Dad died we’d all become pretty adept at chipping in. Which is probably the only reason we were able to make it the way we did. She never really recovered from losing him.”
“Garrett, that must have been so hard.”
He nodded, closing his eyes. And for a moment he was back in his kitchen that day, with some textbook open in front of him, his dad blowing through the room with all his endless energy, trailing a bunch of little girls clamoring for a last kiss before he took off for work. He’d leaned over Garrett and looked at the page, shaking his head in that bewildered way he’d had when it came to school.
He’d been blue-collar to the core. Working in construction from his teens. No higher education. Just a salt-of-the-earth, meat-and-potatoes man’s man who’d loved his family.
He’d clapped Garrett on the shoulder and nodded toward his wife over at the counter, cleaning up breakfast. “You’re the man of the house while I’m gone, son. Make me proud.”
Same words every day. And Garrett had grinned, rolling his eyes at the idea. Still, he always gave his dad his everyday commitment—”Yes, sir”—earning that last, “Good kid,” as he left for work.
Thirty minutes later his father had been dead. And all Garrett had had to honor the man he’d worshipped was that last promise he’d made.
Clearing his throat, he looked back at Nichole. “Mom tried. She got meals on the table and held it together enough so, for a while, the relatives weren’t asking questions. But even as kids we had a sort of instinctual understanding of her limitations. She cried a lot. Spent more and more time in her room. Less and less time doing the things a capable parent did. If there was a crisis in the middle of the night she wasn’t the one the girls went to. It was me. And by the end—when I was eighteen—it got to where she needed the kind of help she couldn’t get at home. Hell, she should have had help before then, but we—I just didn’t understand.”
The guilt inexorably tied to thoughts of his mother pushed at him, weighing in his gut and chest. The question that never went away … If he’d gotten her help earlier would she have had a chance?
“My God, Garrett, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize your mother—Maeve doesn’t talk a lot about her.”
It didn’t surprise him. “Maeve missed out on the most Mom had to give. She was just a little kid. And it was tough to lose so much at once. It was tough on all of them, but we got through it. And, long story short, someone needed to be around. I sure as hell didn’t like the idea of my sisters being alone overnight, you know?”
There were just too many things that could happen … and he’d thought about all of them.
Nichole’s brow pushed up. “That being the case, how in the world did you ever get this Panty Whisperer reputation?”
“I was a teenager.” He laughed. “With needs. No privacy at home. And a very short window of free time every other week or so to take care of them. Thank God I had a few friends with older sisters who were willing to be the responsible party and babysit once in a while.”
“So you’re citing your libido as an example of necessity being the mother of invention?”
“Exactly.” Then he held up a hand. “Only I don’t want it to sound like I was one of those guys who’d say anything to get into a girl’s pants. I wasn’t.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m guessing you probably wouldn’t need to, Garrett.”
But then her eyes found his again and they were still serious. Still waiting.
“What about later, though? After you got Maeve and the rest through school and out on their own? What about then?”
“By then I’d taken over running the construction company and I was going after my own degree. Still not a lot of free time. But, yeah, obviously I could have spent some of it crashed out overnight in a woman’s bed. It just seemed smarter not to.”
“Afraid they’d get ideas?”
“Yes.” It sounded bad. But all he had was the truth. “It was important to me that the women I took out didn’t get the wrong idea about what was happening. About what could happen.”
He hadn’t had the time to get to know them well enough to figure out if he could trust them to take his word for the kinds of limits a relationship with him would have. And so his romantic interactions had always been sort of stunted, shallow exercises that served a specific need.
Until Nichole.
Because not only did he finally have the time, but she already knew the score. She already knew him better than any other woman he’d ever taken out. They had honesty and communication on their side.
And the freedom in that—just to be together and enjoy what they were doing—was incredible.
There was only one problem. He hadn’t actually taken Nichole out at all.
If ever there was a woman who deserved a solid date from him it was this one. But so far he’d picked her up at a party, literally picked her up in the back of a coffee shop and backed her into her place with no intention of letting her out until he’d gotten her to … well, where he’d gotten her. Several times, he mentally amended, giving into a satisfied grin.
“What’s that look about?” Nichole asked, cuddling her coffee mug to her chest.
“I was just thinking about where I should take you for our first date.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_c9d3bb5e-f659-5ae8-93ab-cc4786097b2c)
“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS.” Nichole laughed, trying to keep up as Garrett half-towed her through a parking lot toward what appeared to be some kind of two-dimensional enchanted castle ahead.
“Why not? This is our first date—official first date. Because the weeknight dinners don’t count and I actually called you in advance to set this one up—so it seemed appropriate.”
God, she loved that he was so into giving them a first date. Even if they had spent five of the last six nights together, with Garrett proving to her time and time again what a stellar decision it had been going forward with a relationship.
Giving her hand a squeeze, he added, “And it’s on my bucket list.”
Nichole ground to a stop, thinking she’d never get used to the things that came out of this man’s mouth.
“Your bucket list?”
“Yeah.” He brushed a strand of flyaway hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “The stuff you want to do before you die.”
“I know what it is. I’m just surprised to learn miniature golf makes yours.” The idea of him trying to navigate that big body through a tiny maze of six-foot fairways was just too much.
“Why? Because it’s such good clean fun?” Leaning in, he let his voice take on a conspiratorial tone. “If helping me live out one of my adolescent fantasies is too wholesome for you we could always make it a little more interesting …”
Her heart skipped a beat as she met his hot gaze. “You want to wager?”
“Why not? We could come up with some creative terms.” Wrapping that powerful arm around her shoulders, he guided them toward the main entrance. “And I’ve never played before … so your chances of winning are about as good as they’re going to get.”
She’d been hearing Maeve talk about this guy for years. He was relentlessly competitive. And a natural at most everything he put his mind to trying. Which meant, regardless of his experience, there was a good chance she wasn’t going to win. “What kind of terms?”
The hot glint in Garrett’s eyes had her belly tightening and nervous excitement zinging across the surface of her skin.
Five minutes later Nichole was intimately acquainted with the business end of Garrett’s brawn. The side of him that had made him the perfect candidate to move out of heavy lifting and take over his mentor’s construction company. He was a guy who liked to negotiate, and he wasn’t above a little hardball when it came to getting his outrageous terms laid down in lead on the back of the scorecard. And she liked that side of him too.
Who was she kidding? She liked everything about him.
The way he took her by surprise and caught her off guard. His first dates. His soulful reflections. His naughty wish-lists. He was just so much more than she’d expected. More than she’d been prepared for.
So much more … that there were moments when quiet alarms began to sound in the back of her mind. But then she’d catch his eye and see all that steady confidence shining out at her, and she’d remember they knew what they were doing. That this was safe. And she’d just give in to all the incredible feel-good that was being with Garrett.
She trusted him.
Or at least she had.
One mini-golf slaughter later, Nichole was flopped over the wide slab of Garrett’s shoulder, one hand fisted around his belt, the other clinging to his back pocket, as the hard, cold truth washed over her.
She’d been hustled.
Outraged, incensed and entirely too charmed by his betrayal, she charged, “You told me you’d never played before!”
“I haven’t,” he answered, those long legs striding through the now mostly empty parking lot. “But I’ve got a knack for picking new things up. Especially when there’s an incentive on the line.”
Then, in typical Garrett fashion, with a hand behind her head to ensure she didn’t bump it, he set her into the car.
“And the backseat is on your bucket list too?”
He at least had the good sense to look chagrined. “No. But having to work my way into your panties is.”
“I think you know just exactly how willing I am. How willing we’ve all been.”
He hushed her with a warm breath at her ear. “Come on. I won. You’ve got to play hard-to-get.”
She backed further across the bench seat, heat pouring through her center as it did every other time Garrett looked at her the way he was looking at her right then.
He wanted to have to work for her, did he?
“I’m not sure I should let you anywhere near me after the stunt you just pulled.”
The satisfaction shining out of those half-lidded blues was almost enough for her to throw down any pretense at resistance and haul him into the seat beside her. Better yet, on top of her.
But he wanted to play. And playing was something she’d never had enough practice with. So here, in the far corner of a darkened parking lot, Nichole was ready to prioritize fun.
As Garrett wrapped one strong hand around the seatback beside her, hefting himself into a space too small to accommodate him, she offered the most skeptical, resistant look she could muster. “I’m not sure about this, Garrett.”
His answering deep-chested groan promised her feigned hard-to-get was hitting the right note. That and the hell-yes glint in his eyes.
“Oh, come on, Nichole,” he cajoled. “I promise. I just want to talk. That’s all.”
Yeah, her too. Right. “Maybe … just for a minute.”
Nichole had been prepared for the questions. She was out with Maeve, Bethany and Erin for their usual girls’ night dinner … and she’d been dating their brother in an official public capacity for three weeks now.
Sure, Maeve had been giving her a good grilling on and off since the very first night. But apparently she’d been holding back. Storing up for tonight.
It was almost laughable—except there was something way too serious in the three sets of eyes watching her from across the mostly cleared table. And she was getting a very one-against-three vibe.
“But you guys got arrested together!”
Shaking her head, she shot Maeve a murderous look. “I told you—they didn’t even take us in.”
Maeve did the whole shoulders-around-her-ears thing while she dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “And I told you I wouldn’t say anything. But apparently you didn’t secure the same blood oath from Officer Klinsky … who happened to be in Carla’s class. And ran into one of her girlfriends at the video store yesterday. Sordid tales travel fast, honey.”
Bethany grinned from behind her wineglass. “But thank you for confirming a story I hadn’t believed.”
Perfect.
