Page 69 of Catching Sparks

He grips one edge of the tray, and I help get it situated on his lap before standing awkwardly at the side of the bed. Tapping my fingers on my bare thighs, I cross one leg in front of the other and watch him stare down at the food. When he looks up again, his eyes are full of appreciation, and it helps ease a lot of my awkwardness.

“I’m very close with my mother,” he answers before taking a sip of the tea and swallowing the pills.

“Does she live in Toronto too?”

“Yes. My parents have lived in the same house for a while now. Since I was a teenager.” He sets the mug down and tilts his chin toward the empty space beside him. “If you want to learn more about my personal life, you can at least sit beside me while you do.”

“I’m being weird,” I admit, puffing out a big breath.

“This is an odd situation. But I’m enjoying myself regardless. I haven’t been murdered yet, so you have my company’s appreciation,” he teases, a slight lift at the corner of his mouth.

I shouldn’t be acting like this right now. I’m the one who brought him here, and it’s not like we’re strangers. Not really. He’s told me more about himself in the past couple of weeks than I’d bet he has anyone else in Cherry Peak. Johnny included, and that guy is as close to a BFF that he has on the ranch.

I’m a confident woman, yet Garrison brings out a side to me that I haven’t seen since I was too young to know how to kick ass and take names without a care in the world as to how I was perceived. It’s alarming but also refreshing. Like I’m becoming more myself with every day we spend together. A snake shedding its skin only to reveal one with more vibrant colours hidden beneath.

If the girls could read my thoughts right now, they’d lose their shit. Bryce would probably tie me up and toss me in her car to take me to see a psychologist.

I slide onto the bed beside him, over the blankets to limit the temptation to crawl on top of him. It hardly works. With the comforter pooled at his hips, his entire chest is exposed, and fuck me, it’s a nice one, as I’ve established a million times by now. It wouldn’t take much effort to just reach out and explore the patch of hair leading beneath his underwear?—

Crossing my legs, I force my hands to remain in my lap and mentally curse my horny urges. “Tell me about your mom. I’m curious now.”

“What do you want to know?”

“We can start with the easy stuff. Her name, for example.”

He rasps a laugh. “It’s Cynthia.”

“That’s pretty. Do you look like her at all?”

“Our eyes are a similar shade of green. When they want to be green and not brown. I’ve been told that we share the same nose. That’s about as far as the similarities run.”

“So, you look more like your father?” I ask, treading carefully over the dangerous topic.

Garrison takes a large bite of his toast, his nostrils flaring. I inwardly wince at the reminder that his relationship with his father is so terrible that even the briefest mention of him has him on edge.

Once he’s swallowed the bite of toast, he answers, “No. I wouldn’t say that. I look more like a mix of the two of them than either one separately.”

“When you left town the other week, did you go home to see your mom?” I steer the conversation back to safer territory.

He tips his chin. “I’m used to seeing her far more often than I’ve been able to recently. A few times a week, at least. It’s been a hard transition. For me more so than her, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure she misses you just as much as you miss her.”

“Maybe. I’m told I can be a bit overbearing when it comes to her. She’s probably enjoying the break.”

He takes another bite of toast, his pearly white teeth tearing into the bread with a vengeance. I watch his jaw work as he chews, the strong, sharp line of it a downright crime.

“Protectiveness is a blessing until it becomes suffocating. There’s a fine line there, I think. But I’ve always been sickeningly independent, so my opinion may be shrewd.”

“Have you always been that way? Independent, I mean.”

“Yep. Darren is only a year older than me, and with only one school in town, we were close enough in grade that he thought I’d appreciate him designating himself as my personal security detail. Shocker, but I didn’t. Having him scaring both boys and girls away from me and trying to dictate where and when I could go places only made me try harder to go behind his back to make friends. I learned very early that I didn’t like anyone having power over me, and it wasn’t long after that that everyone knew it,” I explain, the memory of a young Poppy and Darren having it out on the front lawn of our childhood home vivid in my mind.

Garrison’s thigh presses to my knee, an offer of silent comfort. It’s not necessary, but I’m not about to tell him that. Pressing my cheek to his shoulder, I slide my hand over the arm closest to me and hug his bicep.

“We’re similar in our independence. It can be intimidating for some. When we don’t need other people, it can make them feel powerless,” he says.

I nuzzle into his shoulder, nodding. “It’s not as though I need no one, because I still do. Anna and Bryce, my brother and parents. But they all know that I need my space to make my own choices while also wanting them around to offer advice and their company. Anyone worth our time will recognize that and respect it.”

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