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Erin’s mouth was doing one of those weird twitchy things that happened when someone was trying exceptionally hard to keep a straight face. Not happening. Not even close.
Leaning an elbow on the table, Nichole laid her napkin to the side of her plate. “Just spit it out. I can see you’ve got something good.”
Wicked laughter that was totally Carter family burst past her lips as she glanced from one sister to the other and then back to Nichole. “Can you see the invitations? Embossed with bars? A pair of handcuffs between their names?”
All three Carter girls broke into gales of laughter, but suddenly Nichole didn’t feel like laughing. Invitations. Wedding invitations.
Just the kind of place she didn’t want her mind to go.
And then, to make matters worse, she had the sudden certain sense they weren’t alone. Sure enough, within seconds a wide hand was warming her shoulder and another Carter’s deeper, darker and yet just as playful voice was joining in with the rest. “I thought I recognized those cackles.”
A chorus of delighted welcome sounded around the table as Garrett made the rounds, dropping a kiss at each sister’s cheek as he went. An endearing habit which had Nichole smiling despite the fact her number-one taboo topic had been introduced mere seconds before.
Had Garrett heard?
Everything was going so well between them. The relationship was staying neatly within the lines they’d drawn. And it all felt so good. She didn’t want anything … anyone … to jeopardize it. But one glance around the table and she knew without a shadow of a doubt there was no way Garrett wasn’t going to get an earful about their brush with the law and what a special theme it would make, come marriage-time.
She almost wanted to drag him away to the nearest back hall for one last walk on the Garrett side before she had to let him go.
“What are you doing, crashing our girls’ night out?” Bethany asked, clearly delighted to see her brother.
Garrett nodded toward the plate-glass window across the dining room. “Had a dinner meeting at the place down the street. Was heading to catch a cab when I happened to look in and see this table of lovely ladies. Don’t worry, I won’t stay. Just wanted to say hello and make sure you were all getting enough to eat.”
At that moment the waiter arrived, hefting a tray laden with every dessert on the menu. None of which they’d ordered. “Compliments of the gentleman.”
“Dinner’s on me, girls.” He grinned as his sisters chirped out delighted thank-yous and then started staking claims on which decadent tart, chocolate pot or indulgent wedge of cake they wanted to try first.
Nichole took his hand and, when he met her eyes, mouthed a thank-you of her own.
He winked, giving her a squeeze. “Enjoy the evening and don’t do anything rumor suggests I might do.”
At that, Bethany threatened tears if he didn’t join them, and when everyone joined in he happily relented, taking a seat beside Nichole.
“So—having a good night, girls?”
There was really no way to warn him.
“The best, Garrett,” Erin assured him. “But not as good a night as it sounds like you had two weeks ago.”
Nichole had to give him credit. The guy didn’t bat an eye or let on in any way he was squirming. And if she hadn’t caught the ever so slight darkening across his cheekbones she might not have known at all. But there it was. Red.
And for once it wasn’t her.
“Apparently the cop knows Carla,” she offered helpfully.
And then Erin dropped the bomb, sharing her fabulous ideas on an arrest-themed wedding.
Nichole had expected Garrett’s reaction to be something along the lines of a sudden silence. A cool withdrawal. Or maybe just the stiffening of his body.
What she hadn’t expected was his bark of laughter, or the way he took her hand and grinned, stage whispering to her, “I thought those plans were going to be a surprise!”
A few more ideas for the “wedding” got thrown around, including horizontally striped black-and-white bridesmaid dresses and “get out of jail free” seating cards, followed by a handful of jabs at Garrett for fooling around in the backseat of a car in a parking lot. And then the conversation shifted again and they were talking about Bethany’s upcoming trip to Disney with the family, and Maeve’s less entertaining travel plans for work.
And through it all Nichole sat somewhat shell-shocked by the ease with which they’d sailed through what she’d honestly expected to be the beginning of the end. Stunned to see her hand still the object of Garrett’s idle touch. Startled by the revelation that this man at her side had just given her yet another lesson in the art of not taking things too seriously.
A tension she hadn’t been aware of eased from her shoulders and spine, allowing her to relax back into her seat, her night and the incredible ride she was taking.
Garrett stayed the remainder of the evening, which lasted far beyond the last bite of crème brulée and through all the coffees and cappuccinos. He knew wedding talk—even in jest—was a hot button for Nichole. One that, when pushed, got her head spinning in all the directions neither of them needed it to go.
He didn’t want her to worry he was running off freaked out about the mere mention of the “M” word, and he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to go there herself. And once the conversation had moved on, he’d had a damn good time listening to the girls gabbing about their lives. Listening to talk spanning the spectrum from reality dating shows to mortgages to the rocky state of a mutual friend’s marriage. It reminded him of when they’d all still been under one roof and he’d been privy to every inane and profound thought to cross their minds. And it was even better tonight, because intermixed with the ringing laughter he’d been hearing his whole life were the rich notes of Nichole’s phenomenal laugh.
It was something he could definitely get used to, but if he wanted the chance, a little damage control was in order. And it started within a half-block of the restaurant as they walked down Randolph for some air before catching a cab.
Slanting a look at the woman tucked beneath his arm, he brought up the topic he knew had never fully left her thoughts. “That made you pretty uncomfortable tonight? The jokes about getting married?”
She glanced up at him, the relief in her eyes suggesting she’d been revving up to broach the subject herself. “It’s awkward. I mean, isn’t it awkward for you?”
It might have been if he wasn’t with someone he knew was on the same page. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s just talk. From my sisters. I’m used to it. But then, I’ve never been engaged. So I’m probably not so sensitive as you are.”
There was a subtle tensing of her shoulders and Garrett knew he’d touched a nerve. “You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know what happened.”
They continued to walk another quarter of a block in silence. Only a few cars were passing so late on a weeknight downtown.
“With Paul, I was really young and very stupid,” she started. “We’d been friends since grade school and started to date at fifteen. He was the nicest boy I knew and, because we were such good friends first, when we hit the next level … the relationship kind of took.”
Garrett nodded his understanding. Though he hadn’t done much legitimate dating in high school himself, he remembered what it had been like with his friends. Oftentimes there’d been an attraction and not much else, which meant a fair amount of turnover when it came to young love. But not so for Nichole.
Because in this, like in everything else, she’d been different. Ahead of the curve.
And she’d paid for it.
“A lot of girls sort of had that wandering-eye thing. New crushes every month or so. But I liked having something steady in my life. I liked Paul as much as I loved him, and pretty soon we were graduating, and we’d been together for three years, and we were going to the same college. Everyone thought it was so romantic and kept asking us about whether we were going to get married. I think maybe we simply got used to the idea. Like, Yeah, of course we will. We love each other. Why not?” She was shaking her head then, with a quiet laugh. “Of course, the why not answer should have been, we were basically kids. Only no one seemed to notice.”
Garrett couldn’t even imagine. “What about your parents? Didn’t they try to talk you out of it? I mean what were you? Eighteen?”
“His parents thought we were a great match. His mom told me how I was like the daughter she’d never had. And my mom. Sheesh.” She opened her mouth, tried to find the words and seemed to fail. Then, pulling a guilty face, she tried again. “My mom is wonderful, but her priorities … her sense … sometimes it’s not what it should be. She got pregnant with me when she was seventeen and my dad never married her. He basically took off when he found out about me and sent a check once or twice a year for a while. So in her book, me getting married—and to a guy she’d known forever, with us both so close at Marquette University—it was about the best news she’d ever heard.”
He’d known her father wasn’t around. But it wasn’t until this moment he understood the extent of that absence. No father. No brother. Just a mother who’d wanted a commitment for her girl even if she was too young to make one.
Clearing his throat, he prompted her for more. “But it didn’t work out?”
She shrugged. “Paul came to his senses about six months before the wedding. He was so apologetic. So genuinely sorry. He was looking around him, seeing everyone else in the world just starting their lives and figuring out who they were. What they wanted. And there we were, ready to call it done. He thought we both deserved a chance to figure ourselves out a little more. And deep down I knew he was right. So we called off the wedding and went our separate ways. He transferred to a school out east and I got on with my life.”
She didn’t seem bitter. But he knew from talking with Maeve—and from the hints he’d picked up from her, her heart had been badly abused.
“And you met someone else?”
The way her features tightened up told him this schmuck was someone he never wanted to meet. Contrary to popular belief, and with a very few exceptions, Garrett wasn’t generally a violent guy. But the pain that flashed across Nichole’s face had him wanting to do physical harm before he’d even heard the story.
“Joel was …” She let out a sigh. “He was a few years older. And when I met him he just struck me as so confident. Like he totally knew what he wanted—which appealed to me, I’m sure, for very obvious reasons.”
“You thought he’d be safe.” Garrett gave her shoulder a rub and then stopped to take her hand in his. He wanted to know what had happened. Wanted to see her face when she told him.
“I’d had a couple of years to lick my wounds over Paul, and when Joel finally asked me out I was excited to go. Ready for something new.” She slanted a glance at him. “Ready for my mother to stop with the heavy sighs every time I talked to her and the subtle nudges that I should apologize to Paul—”
“What?” he barked out, but she waved him off.
“For pressuring him, or letting him go, or whatever it was that day. Anyway, she was probably more excited than I was when things got serious with Joel. And I guess I didn’t have enough experience to see what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to see it because I was so hungry to build myself the family I’d wanted as a kid. Or maybe my heart just didn’t have any breaks on it. Who knows? But it never should have gone as far as it did.”
Garrett listened, his temper escalating as Nichole tried to explain what had gone wrong. The actions and events she’d misinterpreted. The off-the-cuff remarks she’d taken to heart. She was trying to tell him what had happened with this chump had been as much her fault as her ex’s, but all Garrett could see was some spineless jackass unwilling to take responsibility for his words and actions.
“He asked you to marry him. After two years. How is that rushing or your fault?”
Nichole’s skin looked pale beneath the fading light as she looked away, shame haunting her eyes. Making his gut twist for asking her.
“He said being with me was like being caught in a riptide. He didn’t realize how dangerous I was until it was almost too late.”
Dangerous.
Garrett’s teeth ground down as he struggled for patience. Told himself not to try to look this guy up so he could pay him a visit. Have a few words.
But, damn it, what a piece of work.
When she spoke again it was so quietly he almost missed it.
“I thought we wanted the same things. That we were in it together. But I was wrong.”
And though she didn’t say the word he knew it was there in her head. Again.
Garrett gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his chest so his words would fall from his lips to her ears. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting those things, Nichole. In the past, you just wanted them with the wrong guys. But you’re a different woman now. With more life experience. You won’t make the same mistakes. You won’t get burned again.”
Catching the delicate turn of her jaw in his palm, he met her eyes.
“When you meet the right guy—one who actually deserves you—you won’t be too young. You won’t be caught up in a bunch of empty promises. You’ll be ready and so will he.”
And maybe Garrett would get invited to the wedding, because even though he’d been with her like this, he couldn’t imagine their not being friends when the rest was over. Couldn’t imagine not being able to talk and laugh with her.
Okay, right now he couldn’t imagine not being able to put his hands on her or move inside her body, but that part would go away when this thing between them finally ran its course.
Someday some guy was going to get everything he’d ever wanted in this woman. But in the here and now, at least for a little while, Nichole was his. And he was going to make every minute they had together count. Starting right now, with getting her mind off the past by distracting her with a short-term future he’d been thinking about for a few weeks now.
“Until then …” He leaned closer to her ear, so his mouth played around the delicate shell as he spoke, effectively changing the tone of their communication within a few choice words.
Nichole’s hands tightened against his chest. So sensitive.
“I’ve got a spectacular idea …”
CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_54ee4fbf-b6ae-54a4-8ebd-7bf697ca35fc)
“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY bucket list and assume it’s the end of the discussion.”
Nichole was walking a step ahead of him now, laughing over her shoulder as they approached the intersection.
“Sure I can,” he answered, watching with satisfaction as she turned an arched brow on him, her mind about as far from the two guys who’d torn up her life as possible. This … now … it was about them.
“Sure I can?” she demanded, that one betraying curve at the corner of her mouth spurring him on.
“Uh-huh.” Reaching the corner, he moved into her space, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him as he reached around her to flag a cab a block down. “You know you can’t resist this face.”
“Garrett,” she growled at him, in a way that was more laughter than anything else.
“Nichole,” he rumbled back against her ear, loving how her body almost melted into his as a result. “It’s Crush, Napa Valley. A single weekend a few months from now. I want to take you.”
They’d have fun. Hit a handful of wineries. Get drunk on each other for a few nights out of town.
“Trust me, Nichole. It’ll be amazing.”
“I do trust you. Trusting you isn’t the problem. It’s just—”
“What? It’s just a weekend. Two like-minded adults, on the same page, getting away for a little not-so-serious fun.” He nuzzled her ear, catching the shell in the light grasp of his teeth for barely a second and then pulling away. “Say yes.”
Her breath was soft and warm against his neck.
“I’ll think about it, Garrett,” she whispered as a cab slowed to a stop behind them. “How about that?”
“Perfect.”
For now. He had plenty of time to convince her.
Nichole glanced at her nightstand and let out a frustrated sigh. Three a.m. and still her mind wouldn’t slow down enough to sleep. And it had nothing to do with the coffee she’d had after dinner. Her thoughts had been ping-ponging around her head for half the night. Working out justifications. Trades. Negotiations with herself to ensure this tightrope of emotional investment she was walking didn’t trip her up and cause her to fall.
Garrett had said they were on the same page, in the same place. And maybe if Paul and Joel hadn’t come up that evening she wouldn’t have thought twice … but, oh, she really didn’t want to fall. She didn’t want to be the one who got swept away. The one who cared too much.
What she wanted was everything to continue on with Garrett the way it was. Her remaining just this side of in too deep. The place she already stood. Without Garrett taking her on some romantic weekend getaway.
To Napa.
They’d talked about wine a few weeks ago—Garrett’s surprise years ago on discovering his appreciation and interest in it, her curiosity about what set one vineyard apart from another, her amazement at the idea of air infused with the scent of fresh picked grapes.
And now he wanted to take her to wine country for Crush.
It would be incredible. Romantic. Fun.
They could find a little bed-and-breakfast. Rent bicycles or take the wine train. They could roll around in bed all night. Laze around through the morning.
Make love.
Sure, it was more than a few hours out with a group of friends and then a night spent getting creative between the sheets. More than laughing on her couch as they talked the night away. More than some quick kiss before darting out the door at the break of dawn to hit an early meeting. It was intimacy on an extended basis. The kind of romantic with the potential to rock the status quo.
