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It works. A little too well. He moves from his hovering position, and I feel the loss like a physical blow.
“Mr. Monogamy will appear when you least expect him,” he clips. “Until then, your knightly hero will swoop in and defend your honor. Isn’t that right, Peaches?”
The endearment rushes over me in a comforting embrace. It also sparks a craving for something much sweeter than what’s currently rotting in my mouth. “You didn’t name that final drink. It was my favorite.”
Garrett wags a finger in my direction. “Did you actually drink any of them? Your memory is crystal clear.”
“Or my tolerance is higher than you gave me credit for.” Another lie. I was properly hammered.
His narrow squint pretends to assess my honesty, but there’s no containing the amusement twitching his lips. “Let’s call that last one Peachy Bottom Grace.”
“Seems very personal,” I muse.
“As it’s meant to be. I’m keeping the recipe a secret for lonely nights.”
“When the only thing in this bed with you is the fantasy of me offering my anal virginity to you on a drunken platter?” I flutter my lashes at him.
Garrett audibly chokes, thumping his chest to regain composure. “Fuuuuuuck, that’s just mean. I’m gonna need a cold shower.”
“You’re welcome.”
“As if the sight of you in my hoodie wasn’t already premier spank bank material. You’re making it hard to be decent.” He bites his knuckles and releases a throaty groan.
“This old thing?” I poke at the frayed edges.
“Hangs off your shoulder just right.” The need smoldering from his gaze convinces me.
I maneuver to pull the hem as low as it goes. “It covers my rump. Shocking.”
“Speaking of your peachy ass,” he rasps. Our eyes lock and hold for several seconds. Garrett rips from the trance to stare toward the hallway. “Get up. I made breakfast.”
“You cook?” I flop down onto the mattress with a drawn-out exhale. “Go figure.”
He pats my leg that’s still hidden under the covers. “C’mon, it’s already lukewarm at best.”
“Let’s hope you never meet my dad. He’d give you his stamp of approval, and then you’d be stuck with us.”
He stands, stretching until his back cracks. “Doesn’t seem like a bad deal. You told me about your family. I’d love to meet them.”
“Really?” I sit upright to meet the honesty in his expression.
A sharp nod confirms it. “Your dad and sister sound great. Not sure about the older half-siblings, though. They’re more like wild cards.”
“That’s a good way of describing them. I’m sure he would invite you over for dinner in a heartbeat.”
Garrett pauses to study me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
I freeze as well. “Cryptic much?”
His chuckle cracks the tension locking my muscles. “What’s your last name?”
“Oh.” The leftover strain deflates from my stiff posture. “Howard.”
“Well, Grace Howard”—he proceeds to whip the blankets from my clutches—“get your butt out of my bed. We have a big day ahead of us.”
It takes four rapid breaths for me to realize my bottom half is now on display. I cross my ankles in a feigned attempt at modesty. “Um, excuse you.”
He’s openly staring at my shapely thighs. “Great view, soulmate.”
