Page 42 of The Wicked

Garrett gave my waist a gentle squeeze. “That’s up to Sara.”

Oh, I was no good at this kind of decision. Business decisions, yes, but whenever I tried to take control of my personal life, it just spiralled again.

“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be staying in Oregon,” I blurted, and I felt Garrett’s fingers tense against my hip.

But outwardly, he kept the easy smile. “We’ll let you know.”

He was a mass of contradictions. Part of the country-club set, but relatively down to earth. Uptight but adventurous. Pushy but gentle when he held open the door of the flight centre and then the door of his car. But he didn’t close it. Not yet.

“You’re planning to leave Oregon?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Maybe? I’m not sure yet.” He didn’t let up with that intense gaze of his. “It’s complicated.”

A pause, and then he leaned in and grazed his lips over mine. Just that whisper of a touch turned the sparks into a smoulder, and I was acutely aware of the ache between my thighs. That must have come from the skydiving, right? Some weird side effect?

Garrett cupped my cheek in his hand. “Then I guess I’ll have to make it more complicated.”

What?

What was I meant to say to that?

Nowhe closed the door.

* * *

“Where are we going?”

I thought after we left the skydiving centre, we’d head back to Baldwin’s Shore, but Garrett was driving east, farther into Eugene, and he seemed to be looking for a parking space.

“You need to eat.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

“That makes two of us.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that ever since Hadley’s party, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. So here I am, stalking you, abducting you, taking you for dinner, and breaking every one of my damn rules. I know more about women’s shoes and glass beads than I ever wanted to, my staff are cursing my name because I keep changing my plans at the last minute, and I’m trying to work out whether to take you for pizza or something fancy and French, because I want to impress you but also not come across as a pretentious prick.” He paused at a stoplight and brought my hand to his lips. “Sara.”

Oh. My. Gosh.

If tumbling around in the air had sent my pulse racing, Charming’s words pushed it into overdrive.

“But…but why? I’m nothing special.”

Worse, my whole freaking life was cursed.

Garrett turned to look at me, but I kept my eyes on the windshield as I chewed on my bottom lip. I’d dated three men in the past, and the most passion I’d ever experienced was a heartfelt declaration that my “ass looks great in those pants.” Oh, and who could forget the impromptu bunch of flowers from the gas station? But now I was sitting beside a man who shed pheromones like a dog shaking off river water, whose words sent flames licking through my belly and probably incinerated his group of female admirers waiting in the background too.

“Nothing special?” He slowly shook his head. “The worst part is that I think you truly believe it.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s simple. You tell me whether you prefer pizza or French food, and then I take you to an appropriate restaurant.”

Simple? No, nothing about this was simple, but I had to stall for time, time I desperately needed to get my thoughts in order.

“Uh, pizza?”

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