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But she needed to get laid. Needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t a complete failure who couldn’t attract a man—much less keep him. And Garrett seemed like a sure bet, given the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching. Like she was a woman, and he was a man. And he wanted her.
Or at least…she thought he did.
After pairing a scoop neck sweater with a black skirt and applying a quick spritz of perfume, she made it downstairs just in time to feel her phone vibrate in her hand. He was here. When she opened the door, he stood there smiling at her, a bottle of Asti in his hand. The porch light illuminated his perfection, as if God was reminding her just how exquisitely he had made this particular male specimen.
“Hello,” she said, motioning him inside.
“Hey,” he murmured. His blue eyes swept over her body, leaving heat everywhere they touched. She normally wore sweats and a T-shirt when he came over to hang out, so he was probably wondering at the short skirt she wore. “Wow. You look pretty tonight.”
Her cheeks heated up. “Thanks.”
He came inside and she busied herself closing the door and locking it. The chill of the metal cooled her hunger for him—to some degree. “Is Chris gone?” he asked.
“Of c-course,” she stammered. “He’s at Brianna’s for the night.”
Garrett strode into the living room and set the bottle down before unzipping his coat. His black shirt clung to his finely tuned body, and her fingers twitched. Everything from his black hair, to his six-pack, down to his damn boots screamed out for her attention. And those blue eyes were mesmerizing. She could get lost in them for hours.
“That’s good.” Running a hand over his shirt to smooth it out, he cocked his head. “So we’ve got the whole place to ourselves, huh? No whispering required.”
She headed for the glasses. Images of her screaming out his name flashed over her, making her hot. She looked at him over her shoulder, hoping the smile she gave him would pass as seductive. “We can be as loud as we want. No one will hear me scream.”
He faltered in his steps, his eyes wide. Yep. She’d gotten her point across.
She pulled the corkscrew from the drawer but he slid up behind her and snatched it out of her hands. He always liked doing the muscle work, as if she couldn’t possibly do it alone. It used to bug her. Now, it didn’t. Weird.
She swallowed hard and watched his muscles flex as he twisted the corkscrew. What was wrong with her? She needed to stop ogling him like she was thinking about stripping him naked here in the kitchen. Because she wasn’t. At all.
She totally planned on bringing him upstairs before stripping him.
“Are you doing okay?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his brow furrowed. He was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her. “I know tonight’s gotta be rough for you.”
She swallowed. “I’m okay.”
“I know you are.” He squeezed her hand, then dropped it. She clenched her fist. “But I’m here if you want to vent or cry or whatever. Whatever you need.”
And she knew that, too. He was always there for her. But he said that without knowing what she needed tonight. “I know,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “You’re a great friend.”
“I’d hope so. Sometimes I wonder, considering how much you try to hide our friendship.” When he reached around her to set the opened bottle down on the granite counter, his breath fanned her cheek. He smelled like cologne and woodsy shampoo. “I don’t get the secrecy. I had to lie to Mike again so he wouldn’t ask questions about us.”
“It’s just better this way.”
“If you say so,” he drawled.
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. He was looking at her again. Really looking. And even worse, something inside of her responded in a way she didn’t fully understand or welcome. It was as if something gave way, or shifted for him so he could get inside. She stared back at him, refusing to shrink away. Refusing to back down. He held her gaze, both of them silently challenging the other to be the first to look away.
If Mike knew what she was planning to do with Garrett tonight, he’d slap her upside the head for messing with his best friend. Brianna, on the other hand, would cheer her on. She always believed that love and happiness conquered all, despite the fact that she’d lost her first husband to cancer way too young.
And despite the fact that God had also taken their sister in a car accident only months after she’d had her son.
Ah. To be so blissfully optimistic.
After what felt like a year, she finally gave up and lost the staring contest. The longer she looked into those baby blues, the more nervous she got. Sucking in a shaky breath, she busied herself with filling the glasses. “Thirsty?”
“Sure.” He eyed her but didn’t comment on her odd behavior. “Did you finish editing that book you were working on Monday night?”
“Yep. It’s been all prettied up and sent back to the author.” She worked from home as an editor and loved her job.
“Good.” Picking up the glasses, he handed her one and held his out for a toast. “Let’s toast to celebrate the win today. Chris did an excellent job and I have a feeling he’s only going to get better. You have quite the amazing nephew.”
