On The Way Down (The Retake Duet Book 1)

by Ella Fox

  “Fuck me,” I begged.

  It felt like he was inside of me between one heartbeat and the next. He thrust deep and hard as I began to wrap my legs around his waist. “No, no, no,” he rasped. “Ankles over my shoulders.”

  I trembled as I complied; the feel of him in me went from damn full to holy-shit-I’m-stuffed with one angle change. He leaned against my legs until I was nearly in half before he started thrusting, slamming his hips back and forth with one purpose—to make us both come. My head whipped back and forth on the pillow as I chanted his name, my sex clenching and pulsating around him as I got closer to the edge.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he rasped.

  I gripped onto his elbows and nodded, but couldn’t form fully coherent sentences. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I chanted as he did exactly that.

  Each punishing thrust had me gasping for air as his cock slammed into me. “Come for me, baby.”

  I let out a silent scream as I came, my sex clenching and contracting around him as ecstasy rolled through me like waves crashing onto the beach.

  “Shaelyn,” he roared, his body locking up as he began coming deep inside of me. I held tight as my body softened and took everything he had to give me. When he was finished, he pulled out and dropped onto his back on the bed beside me. Reaching out, he took my hand in his and set it on his chest.

  I watched our hands move up and down as his chest heaved while he caught his breath. “We have to be out the door in fifteen minutes.”

  I was languid and limp like perfectly cooked spaghetti. “Or we could reschedule and let today be a bed day,” I countered.

  He chuckled softly as he pulled me in close. “Are you that tired?”

  I nodded. “Someone, cough, cough, it was you, woke me up at two in the morning with his cock already inside of me. He then got me on my knees and fucked me until I begged to be allowed to come.”

  “That guy sounds like a sex fiend,” he snickered.

  I shrugged. “I think it might just be that he’s addicted to me.”

  He smiled as he lifted our joined hands to his lips. After dropping a kiss on my knuckles, he set our hands back down.

  “I’m more than addicted—I’m in love.”

  My heart skipped a few beats as I caught my breath. I was so in love with him that it was all I could do not to shout it from the rooftops—but I’d been waiting for him to say it first. Each day that passed without him saying it made me wonder if he was feeling the way I was.

  “You are?” I asked, my voice soft.

  “I am, and it’s only growing stronger by the day,” he answered. “I’ve held back from saying it because I didn’t want to put too much on you too soon, but I can’t keep it in anymore. You’re my whole world, Shaelyn.”

  I rolled over and got on top of him, settling my head in the crook of his neck. “I love you, too,” I sniffled.

  I did. So, so much. I hadn’t been looking for love or anything like it, but there it was. When you least expected love, it found you.

  He blew out a breath. “Thank fuck for that,” he said as he traced two fingers up and down my spine.

  After a few seconds of silence, he said it again. “I love you, baby. Get used to hearing me say it every single day.”

  “I love you too, so get used to me saying it back,” I whispered.

  I fell asleep wrapped in his arms, safe, and so in love I knew nothing could ever come between us.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  December 1998

  “Peanut breath!”

  I snickered as I stood from the chair I was in and ran into Goldie’s arms to hug her tight. It had only been a month since I’d seen her during Thanksgiving, but I’d missed her like crazy. We were at the studio where Garrett was doing a looping session for dialogue from Guns Out. Harry had gone to LAX to pick Goldie up so that Garrett and I were able to have lunch with Nolan, who was also doing looping for the movie.

  “How was your flight?”

  “Easy-peasy. Spending an hour in first class is never a hardship,” she laughed.

  “I’m so glad you’re here—now it really feels like Christmas is here. I thought we’d go shopping tomorrow for some last-minute stuff. The following night we’re going to the Christmas Eve party at the Riordans’ but Christmas Day they’ll come over to Garrett’s. He’s having that catered.”

  Something flickered across Goldie’s face as I spoke. Pausing, I looked her over. She hid it well, but she was stressed out about something. I knew immediately it had to be about Jewel, otherwise she would’ve told me already.

  “Alright, out with it, what’s going on with Jewel?”

  Goldie’s nose crinkled up as she sat down in the chair next to mine. She waited for me to retake my seat before she answered. “She’s been calling every few days for months. She put up with me blowing her off at Thanksgiving but she’s pressing hard for me to go over and see her while I’m here for Christmas.”

  “Just you?” I asked softly.

  My grandmother winced. “Just me,” she confirmed.

  I hated that I was even a little bit disappointed that Jewel hadn’t tried to talk Goldie into bringing me with her. I’d known she was back in LA, working for one of the local daytime talk shows, but she’d never sought me out. It bothered me that even though I knew what an asshole she was, a sliver of me always hoped that she’d suddenly evolve and care about me the way a mother was supposed to.

  “You should go. I’m sure you want to see her.”

  “Truthfully,” Goldie sighed, “I don’t. She hasn’t apologized or taken responsibility for her actions in Utah and I’m tired of making excuses for her. Unless she gets her shit together, it’s pointless.”

  I didn’t disagree but I also didn’t think Jewel was ever going to get her shit together. The look Goldie and I exchanged told me that she felt the same way—she just didn’t want to say it aloud.

  Christmas Eve at the Riordans’ was everything I’d ever wanted in a family holiday. The large tree decorated in red, green, and gold, a crackling fire, and the sound of Christmas carols coming from the stereo made it perfect. They accepted and included Goldie and me as if we belonged, like we’d always been there.

  After a massive dinner, the entire family gathered in the theater room to watch It’s a Wonderful Life together. I watched the movie from Garrett’s lap where I was curled up with my head on his shoulder.

  Christmas Day was held at Garrett’s house. It was our first time entertaining together, and I was a nervous wreck getting it all together. We’d gotten it catered since my cooking skills were so lacking, something that bothered me greatly. Aubrey Riordan was richer than God and she’d busted out a massive dinner the night before all on her own. I promised myself that after the first of the year I’d find time to attend cooking classes.

  Once Gabriel, Aubrey, and Alan arrived, I was again struck by how incredible it felt to be part of a family. We laughed and took a ton of photos while we opened the gifts. Garrett’s father had gotten all of us—Goldie included—Nokia cellphones. It was an extravagant gift, and not necessarily practical. I couldn’t see myself carrying it much less remembering to charge it, but Gabriel swore that cellphones were advancing quickly and soon “everyone” would have one. Other than car phones in the back of limousines and those giant cellphones that probably weighed a few pounds, I’d never seen anyone using one in the wild.

  “Trust me—these things are the future. And if nothing else, there’s a great game on the phone that you’ll all love,” Gabriel claimed. We all powered the phones on and quickly confirmed that yes, the game, called Snake, was fun.

  Goldie and I had gone in together fifty-fifty on gifts for the Riordans. We got a gift certificate for Aubrey and Gabriel to have a couples’ massage at The Ritz Carlton, something Garrett had grumbled about because it was so expensive. When he tried to pay for it himself, I put my foot down and forced the issue. I had money saved up from the months I’d worked for him in U
tah and since I didn’t pay for rent, food, or car insurance, I felt comfortable spending the money. For Alan, we’d purchased a bottle of Glenmorangie scotch. I’d also chosen a book for each one of them. A thriller for Aubrey, a book about Tibet for Gabriel, and a coffee table book on cigars for Alan.

  For Garrett, Goldie had gotten a gift of her own. When he opened it up and saw an original movie poster of The Beatles’ A Hard Day’s Night, his face lit up.

  When it came time for Garrett to open my gifts for him, I was nervous. Harry and I had worked together for months to make one of my gifts happen, and I was nearly beside myself with excitement about it. I hadn’t known that Goldie’s gift was Beatles themed, which was funny. Garrett was like a kid at Christmas when he opened my first gift and saw that I’d gotten his Abbey Road album—something I’d borrowed from his collection—signed by Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr. It had taken Harry and me months to track each autograph down, but the pure joy in Garrett’s eyes when he showed it off meant it was all worth it. When he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight, he hummed a few bars of Here Comes the Sun. I smiled because he knew without my having to say a word why I’d chosen that particular album.

  In addition to the autographs on his album, I’d also gotten him four cigars, a subscription to Cigar Aficionado, a new pair of hiking boots, and a bottle of his cologne.

  I loved opening his gifts to me. He’d gotten me an IBM Thinkpad, a signed Pearl Jam Ten album on vinyl, and the first two Lincoln Rhyme books by Jeffery Deaver.

  The last gift he handed me was a small turquoise-colored box from Tiffany. Certain it was probably earrings to match the necklace he’d gotten me for my birthday, my heart stopped when he dropped to one knee in front of me. My hands started shaking so badly that I couldn’t get the lid off. When he took the box from me to do it for me and then pulled out the black velvet ring box inside, I realized his hands weren’t steady either.

  I was dimly aware that Gabriel and Goldie were both taking photos as Garrett opened the velvet box, but my focus stayed on him. Time seemed to slow down and stand still when I saw the beautiful platinum ring that featured a round four-carat diamond set in the iconic Tiffany six-prong style.

  I was already crying when I looked from the ring to him.

  “Will you marry me?”

  I nodded and then yelled, “Yes!” as I threw myself into his arms. I’d seriously misjudged the speed and strength with which I threw myself at him. The sound of laughter and applause from the people we loved filled the air as he fell back and I landed on top of him.

  When he kissed me, I heard everyone oohing and aahing. “Keep it PG,” Goldie called out after a few seconds. I was still crying as we sat up, but I cried harder when he slid the ring into place.

  I was so happy I thought I’d burst.

  I was stunned when Garrett told me that he wanted to get married quickly. It made sense once he explained that news of the engagement would inevitably get out. He knew I hated being the center of attention, which meant people with long lenses camped out on wedding watch would stress me out. We decided to get married on New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas. Being that it was less than a week from the day we got engaged, we had a lot of work to do.

  Garrett took care of the location and the food, while I focused on choosing a dress and the flowers. We went to Vegas two days after Christmas so that I had time to shop for a gown for myself and choose Tia’s maid of honor dress.

  I chose a simple and elegant slip-style dress made of a deliciously luxurious slipper satin material that hugged all the right places. We got a similar style for Tia, sans train and done in a rich plum color, that perfectly complemented my dress. Goldie’s gown was, not surprisingly, gold.

  We were married outdoors at sunset on the property of the Red Rock Country Club. Walking up the aisle on Goldie’s arm to a tuxedo-clad Garrett was one of the most surreal and joyful moments of my entire life. His eyes were full of tears as he stepped forward and gave Goldie a kiss on the cheek before he took my hand in his.

  “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered to me as we walked the few steps to where the man performing the ceremony stood under a wedding arbor festooned with peonies and baby’s breath that matched my bouquet. Other than immediate family the only other guests at the wedding were Tia, Harry, and Nolan—and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  We vowed to love, honor, support, and be there for one another through good and bad as the sun set over Las Vegas. When Garrett kissed me for the first time as my husband, I wept, and when the officiant announced us as Mr. and Mrs. Riordan for the first time, I cried harder.

  Every tear was one of absolute joy.

  Inside a beautifully decorated reception room, we danced to The Beatles’ Something, another song from what I’d come to think of as our Abbey Road album. Garrett sang to me as we twirled across the floor, the joy on his face and emotion in his voice creating a memory I knew I’d never forget.

  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Gabriel Riordan stood and gave his toast. He talked about the pride he had in his son, the happiness he felt when he saw us together, love, family, and how important it was to recommit to our marriage every single day.

  “I’ve been married to Garrett’s mother for twenty-eight years, and the most important thing I’ve learned about marriage is that you have to make it a priority. When we got married, we promised that we’d do whatever it took to stay together for the rest of our lives. Anything and everything is possible as long as you don’t quit—on yourself, or your partner. Seeing the two of you together, I know that you have that same commitment to each other. Life will give you sunshine and rain—but you’ll learn that facing all of life's challenges with your best friend at your side means everything is possible.”

  It wouldn’t be long before I learned that some obstacles were just too big to overcome.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  February 1999

  Two days after the wedding, Garrett’s publicist put out a press release announcing our marriage. In an attempt to appease the public, we included four wedding photos. Seeing my face on the news and on the covers of nearly a dozen magazines at the newsstand in the airport was one of the most surreal and uncomfortable things ever. The photo was beautiful, but the headlines were cringe-worthy.

  Child bride! Shotgun wedding! How a teenage nobody won the heart of one of Hollywood’s biggest stars! One of the weirdest publications ran a story claiming that I was an alien bride sent by a galactic council to control Garrett.

  When we got back to LA after our honeymoon in Jamaica, we were greeted by a hoard of photographers at LAX. I’d truly believed that I was ready for the media attention, but nothing in the world could have prepared me for the flashbulbs continuously flashing as questions were shouted at us. I clung to Garrett’s hand and kept my head down as he did his best to guide us through the mob that was busy jostling and yelling as they did their best to get a reaction out of us.

  There was nothing off-limits for those people, no line they wouldn’t cross. The questions ranged from stupid to downright disgusting, and there were no pauses between things being yelled out. Some of the things they asked were so crude I couldn’t keep from blushing. Airport security got involved and did their best to guide us to the exit, but even then, the questions just kept coming.

  “Her mother says you paid her off so she’d look the other way while you dated her underage daughter!”

  I was so stunned that I paused for half a second until Garrett tugged my hand and got me back on track. My stomach churned as we raced toward the limo waiting for us at the curb. I knew it was ours because Harry and the driver sprang forward at the same time to open the rear door and take care of the luggage cart one of the airport employees was pushing at our side.

  I pretty much dove into the limo as if the ground beneath me was lava. Garrett pulled me into his arms the instant he was in the car.

  “I’ve got you,” he said soothingly. �
��You’re safe.”

  Only then did I realize that I was shaking. It was sixty-one degrees in Los Angeles but sweat was trickling down my back as though I was back in Jamaica. I’d gone from not having an issue with crowds to feeling like I couldn’t breathe when a mad throng of gossip-hungry assholes surrounded me and brought up my mother. I shuddered as cameras banged against the glass while the flashes outside the car kept going off.

  I was still shaking long after we drove away.

  Two weeks later, the press’ attention hadn’t abated. If anything, it was worse. My darling mother had given interviews to all of the worst gossip rags, stooping so low as to sell photo licenses on some of my childhood pictures. It got so out of control that we’d had no choice but to meet with Garrett’s attorney. He’d sent a cease and desist and warned her that the things she said and lies she spread were grounds for Garrett and me to sue her for slander.

  The panic that I’d felt the night at LAX continued rearing its head at weird times. I could be doing laundry, humming along to the radio, and suddenly my heart would feel like it was going to beat out of my chest. I woke up several times in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and shaking.

  When two paparazzos climbed the gate and turned up in our driveway, I pulled the curtains, closed the blinds, and started spending an inordinate amount of time in the house. I felt trapped because I was trapped. Anytime we left the house—together or apart—the press descended. It bothered us both that people were questioning when we’d gotten together and I was cast as a child bride.

  In the midst of all of this, the machine around Garrett was shifting to turbo because it was almost time for him to start the press junket for Knight and Play, the movie he’d filmed before Guns Out.