Читать книгу Just Once More...: Once is Never Enough / One More Sleepless Night / The One She Was Warned About - Lucy King, Lucy King - Страница 19

CHAPTER TWELVE

Оглавление

“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.

Garrett understood her fears. Knew what held her back. He’d whispered in her ear that she didn’t need to worry about their relationship going too far. That even if she got carried away he’d keep his feet on the ground. That she could count on him.

Closing her eyes against the yawning void of night, she drew a deep long breath and pushed it out. Tried to let her body go lax and find a quiet spot in her mind. Only she couldn’t stop thinking.

About the way they talked. Laughed. And played.

About how she felt when they were together.

She knew she could trust Garrett. But she was beginning to wonder if she could trust herself.

Garrett threw an arm over his eyes and let out a feral growl.

It wasn’t like he and Nichole spent every night together.

They only saw each other three or four nights a week. Okay, sometimes five. But it had become something of a standard when they did get together … they stayed together. And he liked it.

Last night he’d dropped her at home, though, without even an attempt at going in. He’d seen that flash of panic in her eyes at his Napa suggestion and recognized what she needed was a little time to get used to the idea. To let it sink in that they could make plans for a weekend in the future without the worry of it being about building a future together. She needed to trust in both of them so she could enjoy what they had to its fullest potential.

She’d come around, he knew. But he’d figured the space would help.

Only now he’d been awake all damn night.

At four forty-five it didn’t even make sense to keep trying to sleep.

On a grunt, he jackknifed up from the bed, swinging his legs over the side as he scrubbed a palm over his jaw.

How the hell was he going to make it through the day? He had meetings scheduled back-to-back until six. He’d never make it. Not like this.

If it were just the sleep deprivation he’d be fine. Hell, with the load he’d been carrying these last years he was no stranger to pulling all-nighters. But the lack of sleep coupled with this other problem—this hunger and ache that seemed to have permeated every damn cell in his system …?

Yeah, that was going to get in the way.

He had to do something.

Twenty-five minutes later Garrett was standing outside Nichole’s door, a tray of espressos in one hand and a bag of Danish in the other. Balanced on one foot, he kicked the door—quietly. Sort of.

If she didn’t answer he’d take off. Throw back the jet fuel and chow down the pastry. Head back to his own apartment and get on with the day that would have been a thousand times better if it had involved Nichole from the start.

Nichole sat up in bed, her brow furrowed as she cocked her head, listening. Because someone had just knocked on her door. Reaching for her phone, she checked her messages. Not finding any, she headed down the hall, slipping on her robe as she went.

There was only one person on the planet who would show up unannounced at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. And at that minute Nichole couldn’t have been happier for the intrusion.

Maeve was just the woman to talk some sense into her. Assure her this invitation for a weekend away wasn’t anything to get her panties in a twist over.

She’d tell her to relax. Settle down. Skip the theatrics and just enjoy the ride, taking it as it came. She’d remind her that neither of them was interested in something serious. So serious wouldn’t happen.

Only she’d say it in some typically crass Maeve way that would have Nichole nearly weeping with laughter.

Throwing the door open with relief, she’d got as far as, “I love yo—” when her eyes focused on the figure that was most definitely not Maeve standing on her stoop.

Amusement tinged with confusion filled those deep blue eyes as Garrett’s head cocked to the side and he asked, “Expecting someone else?”

Hand flying to her mouth, she shook her head, coughed so hard she ended up gasping and then finally wheezed out an emphatic, “Yes!”

Garrett’s mouth opened, then closed as he looked off toward the sky before finally returning to her with a totally mystified stare. “Since I dropped you here at eleven last night?”

At which point she realized what she’d said and once again gave in to a fit of sputtering while she shook her head. Only then she saw Garrett was just playing with her, because that glint of mischief said he wasn’t concerned at all.

And then he was stepping into her home before she’d thought to invite him, moving into her space like he knew without asking how badly she wanted him to be there. He backed her down the hall toward the kitchen, crowding her as much with the predatory intent in his eyes as the solid mass of his body. Making her come alive in a way five a.m. had never seen before.

“I thought maybe it was—”

“Yeah,” he cut in, his eyes working a slow descent from her shoulders to her breasts, waist, hips, legs and toes. “I know exactly who you thought it was. The only person on the planet with the nerve to show up unannounced before the crack of dawn. My sister.”

Nichole peered up at him. Sexy was radiating off his form like the rising sun. Warming everything it touched.

Sounding breathless in a way she’d only experienced with Garrett, she teased, “It must run in the family, then?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so until today, but here I am.”

The small of her back made contact with the island countertop, preventing any further retreat. Garrett set the tray of breakfast down beside her, then slid it away, leaving room for his hands to rest on the counter at either side of her. Caging her in.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like, sweetheart?” Leaning in ever closer, so his breath played around the whorl of her ear, he answered, “I’m here for breakfast.”

Taking the stairs two at a time, Garrett left the repetitive sound of hammering, power saws and the shouts of his crew behind as he ducked out in search of some relative quiet. Eyeing the progress from across the street, he dialed back his sister and held the phone to his ear.

“Sorry about that, Bethany. I’m at the Worther site today. Noisy. Everything okay?” he asked, as he always did when one of his sisters called unexpectedly.

After she’d assured him she and the kids were fine, she asked about his plans for the evening, cluing him in to the reason behind her call—though if left to her own devices she probably wouldn’t have managed to spit out her actual request for another five minutes at least.

Bethany, who hated to ask anyone for anything, needed a sitter.

“I’ve got plans to see Nichole tonight, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a slight change.”

Bethany heaved a sigh of relief, thanking him with all the sisterly devotion reserved for sacrificial bailouts, then adding a mandatory, “Are you sure? If it’s any inconvenience I’ll figure something else out.”

Nice offer, but she needed help. And when it came to his sisters he couldn’t say no.

Or at least not when he knew they really needed it. No to a new car, to a date with the bass player from a band, a degree in basket weaving appreciation? Another story altogether.

“Not a problem. So, what time do you want us there?” A silent beat followed and Garrett checked the phone to ensure the call hadn’t been disconnected.

“Beth?”

“Um … so you’re both coming over tonight?” she asked, in a way so the question dragged out to a point where you couldn’t miss that there was way more going on than the words actually spoken.

She had a problem. But Nichole had babysat with Maeve before. Maybe even once or twice without Maeve. The kids knew and liked her.

Then he realized it might not be Nichole his sister had a problem with at all.

Just him … with Nichole.

Damn it, this was that Panty Whisperer bull again.

He could only imagine the rumors his sisters had heard about him over the years. What they might be spurring her on to think. Surely nothing so wholesome as making out on the living room couch after the kids went to bed? No. It would probably be some totally depraved act in the kitchen, involving half the cooking utensils. Which wasn’t to say there wasn’t some appeal in that idea … in his own kitchen … with Nichole the only other person in the house. But Bethany couldn’t seriously believe …

“You know nothing would ever happen between us while we were responsible for the boys.”

“Oh, no! Garrett, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I swear,” she answered, so fast and so urgently he wondered exactly how much of the sting he’d revealed in his voice. “Honey, I know you would never be anything but one hundred percent responsible while taking care of your nephews.”

Garrett blinked, his mouth curving at the realization he’d just heard “the big sister voice.” Something it had been the better part of two decades since he’d had the privilege of earning. She was reassuring him. Easing his insecurities. The novelty of it was enough to make him laugh.

“What’s with that laugh?”

“Don’t worry about it, Beth. Something funny from this end.” True enough. He never liked to lie to his sisters. Made it a point not to do it. But the occasional dodge … that much he could live with. “So, if you’re not worried about me making you an auntie again on your stairwell, what’s with the drawn-out hesitation?”

She let out a laugh, again making him feel all kinds of little brother. After all these years it was a bizarre experience, to say the least.

“Well, I guess I’m a little surprised. I mean, I know you’re dating, but for you to bring her for something like this … how serious are you?”

“We’re not.” The words fired out of his mouth, leaving a guilty aftertaste behind.

“Really? Did I just miss all the other women you’ve brought around to hang out with your family over the past decade or so?”

When she put it that way … Relatively speaking, this relationship with Nichole went far beyond the hookups he’d been making do with until now. But serious was the one word he’d had to swear to Nichole not to use. Still, the kinds of clarifications he’d have to make for his sister to understand weren’t something he was up to sharing.

“Okay, yeah, I get what you’re saying. But don’t get too many ideas about Nichole. We’re—”

“Friends with benefits?” she offered helpfully.

“No.” More than that. “I mean, we’re definitely friends too.” But it wasn’t like they were just a couple of pals using each other to get off. Not even close. They were more than friends, enjoying each other in an honest, open, safe capacity … They both understood, even if they couldn’t quite put a name to it. They were at a good place together. A place they could both handle. “Look, don’t worry about it. We’re not planning to elope. And, while I honestly care about her, the only reason I’ve been ‘bringing her around’ is because she already knows you guys. I mean, hell, with this babysitting thing tonight—she’s actually watched your kids on her own before. We already had plans. It would be weird not to bring her.”

Just Once More...: Once is Never Enough / One More Sleepless Night / The One She Was Warned About

Подняться наверх