Page 36 of One More Heartbeat
I’m doing it for myself.
Doing it so my friends don’t notice my fatigue.
I’m only running a few minutes late by the time I arrive at Garrett’s house. I gather up the groceries I bought after work and walk to his frontdoor. I don’t bother ringing his doorbell. Garrett leaves the door unlocked when he knows I’m coming over.
I step inside the home that was decorated with a bachelor in mind. The rich brown colors are like creamy hot chocolate on a cold winter day, with splashes of bright color scattered throughout the space. Color mostly in the form of the framed landscape photos on the hallway and living room walls. Photos of the local mountains and Windermere Lake. Photos taken by Kim, my sister-in-law. They’re a nod to Garrett’s love of nature.
“Hey, Golden Girl.” Garrett walks toward me, a towel wrapped low on his hips. “I thought I heard the door.” Water droplets trickle down his muscular body, and my mouth goes desert dry.
I’ve seen Garrett shirtless plenty of times, but like a sunset, his chiseled chest doesn’t grow any less spectacular each time I see it. The scattering of shrapnel scars on his side does nothing to mar the perfection. They beckon me to kiss them, to let him know I’m glad they didn’t steal him from me.
A handful of tattoos decorate his fine body. Beautiful tattoos that also pay homage to his love of nature. My favorite is the scripted words along his side: “Courage is found in unlikely places.”
The quote is fromLord of the Rings, a book we read together when we were teens.
Garrett stops in front of me, close enough to watch a droplet succumb to gravity and caress his lightly tanned skin.Lucky droplet.
I force my eyes to find his, but his gaze isn’t on my face. It’s on the soft mounds of flesh peeking above my cami’s plunging neckline.
A smug smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. I’m tempted to adjust the top, pulling it down an inch, to flash more of my skin. To remind him that I am all woman.
His eyes linger on my breasts for a fraction of a second more, then slide down my body. Under the stroke of his gaze, my body heats, my breath stumbles, and my heart rate tumbles out in a rapidpitta-patter-pitta-patter.
Why does he have to have this effect on me?
Garrett clears his throat, and his eyes move up to mine. Any hint of what he might have been thinking is gone. “New outfit?”
I nod, unable to find my voice with him standing there in nothing but a towel. I’m pretty sure my brain cells are fried from this whole interaction.
“It looks nice.” He slowly reaches toward the opening of my shirt, then seems to catch himself and drops his hand to his side.
“Thank you.” The words push past my dry mouth, my voice catching-my-breath husky.
“Let me get changed first. Then we need to talk.”
His spell on me breaks, and those three dreaded words pound in my head on an echo.
Need to talk?
He smiles, as if trying to lessen the impact of his words, but the sadness in his tone, missing a moment ago, snuffs out all hope of that. I knew he wanted to tell me something. I just didn’t realize it wouldn’t be something good.
We’re not dating, so at least I don’t have to worry he’s dumping me.
I’m not looking at a repeat of what happened with Joseph. Heck, whatever it is Garrett wants to tell me, I have a feeling it has nothing to do with my ex-boyfriend. Perhaps it has something to do with his book that releases in September. Or his most recent book deal.
Lord, I hope it has nothing to do with his parents—like one of them is sick.
I lift the cloth bags I’m carrying. “I’ll put these things away for now. I didn’t have a chance to whip up anything. I’ll do that after we talk.”
I walk past him and put the bags on the counter.
I stroke the cool granite surface, wishing for the hundredth time my kitchen looked like this. The room is both beautiful and a masterpiece, like the mountains Garrett loves to hike and climb. This room is meant to be cooked in every night, to be loved and respected. The endless counter and storage space are a cook’s wet dream.
Storage space that makes my small kitchen look so sad and inadequate.
While I wait for Garrett to get changed, I organize the food supplies Ibrought with me. We’ve got two hours until everyone shows up. Plenty of time for me to make the guacamole and tapas.
I don’t hear Garrett come into the kitchen as much as sense him. The fresh outdoors scent he wears so well wraps me in a loving embrace. Nope, I don’t imagine him—now that I’m single again—hugging me from behind. I definitely don’t imagine him kissing the side of my neck. And I absolutely don’t imagine him humming his satisfaction on my skin.
