Page 103 of One More Heartbeat
The kiss starts out frantic, an unquenchable thirst. But after a few moments, it settles into slow sips of an intoxicating beverage that can be felt all the way to my toes.
We eventually come up for air, our breathing ragged, foreheads kissing.
“I needed that.” Garrett’s growled words breeze over my lips. He straightens, our body’s shifting but still touching.
I loosen my hold but don’t let go of him. “Bad dinner at your parents?”
“Peony started crying when I tried to introduce her to Troy. And things didn’t improve when she saw Dad, Lucas, and Kellan.”
My heart breaks for Garrett. He was so hoping Peony would accept the men in his family now that she has accepted him as her father.
“Things did eventually get better after I distracted her, but she wanted nothing to do with them.” His lips press in a defeated line. “If not for the dogs, my mom, Simone, and Jess, we would have left. She wasn’t scared of them. She was only scared of my father and my brothers.”
Like she was at first—after arriving in Maple Ridge—afraid of Garrett.
The question is why? Why is she so scared of them when they have done nothing to warrant that level of fear?
“I’m so sorry, Garrett. I know you were hoping things would go differently. I thought maybe they would too.” I lower my arms from around his neck. “I wonder why she’s having a hard time trusting your father and brothers. Did the shooting really mess her up that much? Or has she always had trouble trusting men?” From the sounds of it, she hasn’t had any interactions with men since arriving in Maple Ridge, other than Garrett’s family.
“I know. It’s not like her mother was leery—unless someone did something to give her a reason to be that way.”
“You’re right. Kenda was a social butterfly, always happy to interact with everyone, no matter the gender they associated with.” It was why she was such a great journalist. She had a way of getting people to open up to her. “So what would cause Peony to not trust men when Kendawasn’t like that? Do you think it’s the shooting? Have you asked Athena?”
“I haven’t.” He scoffs out a humorless half laugh. “I’m not sure she would even give me a straight answer if I did. She’s super private. About everything. But it makes sense that Peony doesn’t trust men because of the shooting.”
“Maybe Peony’s therapist will figure it out. Eventually.”
“I hope so.” Garrett bends to retrieve the towel he dropped on the grass. “Ready to show me some yoga poses?”
I unroll my mat next to Garrett’s towel on the grass, and I show him a few of the moves I learned from a video I found online. The chirping of birds, the scampering of a squirrel in a tree, and the occasional rustle of leaves are the only sounds entering our peaceful cocoon.
“So, I found a video on the Spondyloarthritis website yesterday,” Garrett says as we’re coming out of the final pose. The way he stresses “So” snags my attention, like a big fat highlighter squiggle on a page. “The presenter on the video mentioned that orgasms increase the pain threshold by a hundred percent.”
I splutter out a laugh and sit on my mat.This should be interesting.“They did?”
Garrett drops his ass next to me on my yoga mat. “She did. Whatever that means.”
I hold out my hand so it’s level, my science background geeking into high gear. “Okay, say this is the pain threshold.” I wiggle my hand. “If the pain stimulus from the injury or disease is below this threshold, the person doesn’t experience pain. But once the amount of stimulus is enough to reach this threshold”—I wiggle my hand again—“then you feel pain. The more neurons activated, the greater the pain.” That’s the simple explanation. The only explanation he needs to know for the sake of this discussion.
“So if the video is right and orgasms increase the pain threshold”—I move my hand up—“the amount of pain I’ll feel will be less…or nonexistent.” Sounds good to me.
“That’s not a bad deal. Plus, who doesn’t love a good orgasm?” Garrett’s rough, rumbled chuckle hits my girl parts in all the right ways.Or maybe that was due to how the wordorgasmrolled from his mouth, like melted chocolate.
I grin. “Right? But unlike painkillers, orgasms are side-effect free. You can’t go wrong with them.” Side-effect free, other than they can be highly addictive. But I don’t bother mentioning that.
“True. The only downside is the benefit supposedly only lasts twenty-four hours.”
I snicker like a fourteen-year-old boy in sex-ed class. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
Another low, sexy laugh rumbles through Garrett, and heat flickers in my belly.
“Isn’t it? But that’s no different than with painkillers.” He lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “I’m guessing from your initial reaction, orgasms don’t give you any sort of pain relief? So maybe the info in the video was theoretical.”
I lie back down onto my side, my elbow propping up my head. “Maybe it is theoretical and maybe there’s truth to it. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been given an orgasm in…” One. Two. Three years? That can’t be right. “…in a very long time.”
Garrett’s eyebrows shoot up, the surprise on his face downplayed by the one-sided twitch of his lips. “Are you telling me that what’s-his-name never gave you an orgasm?”
“You mean Joseph?” I almost snort the last part out.
