by Maisey Yates
Part of him wanted to believe that, while another part of him wanted this conversation to be over. Because they weren’t here to discuss the past, to have any deep and meaningful conversations about their lives. They were here for casual sex and that was it.
“Yeah, well, whether it was an amazing thing to do or not, I just did what needed to be done.” He tightened his grip on her and rolled over, taking her beneath him. “Now, how about we have some more of this casual sex, hmm?”
Charity looked like she wanted to say something more, her gaze flickering over his face. But then she let out a breath and reached for him, drawing his mouth down on hers and ending the conversation.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A COUPLE OF days later, Charity bustled about the yarn store, moving the last of the boxes out in preparation for ripping up the carpet on the floor when the door opened.
She glanced up in time to see Garrett come inside, the door banging shut behind him. He was carrying two take-out cups, the rich smell of coffee filling the little shop.
Her heart did a strange leaping thing, which was aggravating, but it was probably due to the scent of coffee. Yes, it had to be that. Nothing else. Certainly nothing to do with the way those worn jeans of his fit, or how the black T-shirt he wore today molded to his wide shoulders and broad chest.
Gorgeous doesn’t even begin to cover that man.
It really didn’t.
Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover your decision to keep sleeping with him, either.
Charity ignored her tiresome common sense. Because, really, what was stupid was thinking that continuing to sleep with him was stupid. She was back in Jasper Creek to find happiness and have fun, and so far, she was very happy and also having fun. And a large part of that was down to Garrett.
He’d been the one to suggest that they meet up again the following night and she’d been more than happy to do so. He’d said he had a few fantasies to work through when it came to her and she was very much okay with that, since she had a few of her own. It was all part of the “casual sex” thing.
So, for the past few days, Garrett had been picking her up from the store, helping her with buying the supplies she needed for the restoration, then taking her back to his place where they fell into bed almost immediately. Afterward, he’d make dinner and they’d sit in his big, open-plan farmhouse kitchen and talk. She’d tell him some of her ER war stories, while he’d return the favor with some bull-riding ones.
Of course, she’d had to endure some good-natured teasing from her friends, but that was a small price to pay for the nights she enjoyed with Garrett.
Much to her annoyance, Kit had found a lasso sitting on a box in the attic, which meant she’d had to waste a valuable fifteen minutes standing on Jasper Creek’s main street holding it for absolutely no reason as her punishment for breaking the “no hookups” rule. She complained until Pru threatened to get a random passerby to take a picture, since all their phones were still locked in the basement downstairs.
Luckily Garrett hadn’t been in town that day so at least she didn’t have to explain that to him.
They hadn’t talked again the way they had the first night, which was fine with her since it seemed like that had made him uncomfortable. If she was honest, it had made her uncomfortable too, though finding out he’d had a crush on her had given her the biggest thrill. She understood why he’d never said anything to her. Nothing good would have come of it, not when she’d had so much schoolwork to keep up with. Plus, he’d clearly had some issues in his life, his dad being one of them.
She was curious about that, just as she was starting to be curious about most aspects of Garrett Roy’s life, but she pushed that curiosity firmly to one side as he came over with the coffee. They were “casual” and she was pretty sure discussing his father’s death did not fall under the definition of casual in any way.
“Caffeine,” she said instead. “You must have read my mind.”
“I kept you up pretty late last night, so I thought you might need something to keep you going.” His smile got a wicked edge. “Especially when I plan on doing the same thing again tonight.”
She grinned, taking the cup from him. “I could be persuaded.”
His silver eyes glittered. “Can I start the persuading right now?”
Her heartbeat sped up, excitement gathering inside her. Oh, she’d love for him to start persuading her now. The centennial was still weeks away, which meant they could afford some time out, surely? Then again, she did have to start somewhere and there was still a lot to do to get it ready. It wouldn’t do to get distracted.
She took a sip of the coffee. It was the good stuff, from the coffee cart that she’d discovered the first day she’d gotten in to Jasper Creek. She made a visit there every day; she’d always run on caffeine ever since she was a med student.
“I’d love you to, but unfortunately I have work to do.” She looked around at the store which was still cluttered with things. “I need to start ripping up the carpet, which means moving all of this stuff ASAP.”
Garrett took a look around. “You want some help?”
Her heart gave another of those stupid leaps, which she again ignored. “You really would?”
His gaze came back to hers, but she couldn’t read it. “You sound surprised.”
“Since you weren’t happy about the name change, I kind of assumed you wouldn’t want anything to do with a complete refurbishment.”
A rueful smile turned his mouth. “I wasn’t happy because I was still attracted to you and I didn’t want to be. It had nothing to do with the name change.”
Charity didn’t know whether to be annoyed about that or not. “Oh. Right. So you’re okay with the name change?”
He took a sip of his coffee, gazing at her from over the top of the cup. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. I don’t want changing the name to end up being contentious and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings about it.”
“You’re very worried about upsetting people.”
“I’m a doctor and doctors are supposed to make people better, not upset them.” She changed her grip on the cup, the heat of the liquid inside burning her fingers.
Garrett hitched one powerful shoulder up against one of the shelves. “So when exactly are you going back to Seattle?”
The question was an uncomfortable one, mainly because the thought of going back filled her with the kind of heavy dread that made her feel like she’d swallowed a bag full of rocks.
But she didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it right now. Not when she had a store to set up and casual sex to have. There would be plenty of time for that later.
“After the centennial,” she said noncommittally. “Well, if you’re going to help, you can start by taking some of those boxes down into the basement.” As changes of subject went, it wasn’t a very graceful one and she could tell by the pressure of his gaze on her that her answer hadn’t satisfied him.
“What made you want to take a break?” he asked, not moving.
Charity turned away, going over to the counter and putting her coffee cup down then fussing around with the other boxes that were already sitting there. She didn’t want to have this discussion yet, not when she hadn’t even had it with her friends. They hadn’t asked her what had made her take a couple of months off, obviously picking up on her “I don’t want to talk about it” vibes, and she was grateful.
Talking about her ridiculous anxiety attacks and the general stress of her career made her feel like a failure anyway. Her father had so wanted her to specialize in emergency medicine; it had been his dream for her and she’d wanted it too. He’d sacrificed a lot to care for her after her mother had died, and so giving something back to him had felt important. He’d been ecstatic when she’d gotten into the emergency medicine training program and thrilled
when she’d landed a job. And the thought that she then hadn’t been able to cope with the demands of the position bothered her a lot. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
Certainly she didn’t want to talk to Garrett about it. Bull riding took determination and strength, and he’d been good at what he did. He’d only given it up because he’d had to look after his grandmother. But her? Stress leave because someone had pulled a knife on her. As if assaults by patients didn’t happen in every ER every day. It sounded pathetic to her. Weak, even.
“Haven’t we had this discussion?” She tried to sound dismissive. “You know, Hope’s wedding was canceled and so we all decided to—”
“I know about Hope’s wedding. Brooks told me all about it. No, I want to know what made you want to come here. A couple of months is a long time to take out from a job for one canceled wedding.”
Charity fiddled with one of the boxes, trying not to tense up. She didn’t know why she was turning this into a big deal. What did she care if Garrett thought she was weak or a failure? It didn’t matter, especially when she was going back.
She could tell him and he could think whatever the hell he liked.
“I had to take stress leave after I started having a few panic attacks,” she said lightly, staring down at the dusty counter. “We had a security incident one night and some guy pulled a knife on me. It was fine; I wasn’t hurt. He was drunk and worried about a friend...but still. It affected me. I found it difficult to come in for my shift the next day and it got worse and worse.” She was pleased with how casual she sounded. “Then one day I couldn’t even step over the threshold. I took a few days off here and there but then the thing with Hope’s wedding happened and I decided it was the perfect time to take a couple of months off, so I did.”
She straightened and forced herself to turn around and face him, to show him that it wasn’t a big deal, no matter how it sounded. “And here I am.”
His gaze was very level and it struck her suddenly that there was something very level about Garrett Roy, period. No matter that he’d been a wild kid when he’d been young, he was still the boy she’d seen helping out in this very store, smiling at the mainly elderly clientele and chatting easily with them.
A calm sort of guy.
Definitely not you, no matter how hard you try.
It was true. Calm was something she’d had to cultivate, since it didn’t come naturally to her, no matter what her friends liked to think. She felt everything very deeply, but doctors couldn’t allow their feelings to get the better of them and so she constantly had to corral hers.
Garrett’s silver gaze roved over her, and she had to fight the urge to shift on her feet, uncomfortable with how intently he was looking at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and it sounded as though he genuinely meant it. “That sounds tough.”
Charity lifted a shoulder, shoving the feelings of discomfort back up in her mental attic with all the rest of her emotions. “It was. But it’s better now I’m here.” She forced a smile. “You don’t have to help me with the boxes if you don’t want to.”
Garrett pushed himself away from the shelf. “I’m here for your pleasure, doc. And if that means moving boxes right now, then I’m happy to do that for you.”
He didn’t push and he didn’t bring up the subject again. And Charity wasn’t sure if she was disappointed about that or not.
No, she decided. She wasn’t disappointed. Not in the slightest.
* * *
GARRETT STACKED AWAY the last of the boxes in the basement under the yarn store, his head still full of what Charity had told him earlier about why she’d taken some time out from medicine. About the panic attacks. Her voice when she’d told him the story had been perfectly level but there had been a slightly defiant glitter in her eyes when she’d faced him. As if daring him to say something about it, though he wasn’t sure what she’d thought he might say.
Taking a break after something like that had happened seemed reasonable to him. Sure, as a bull rider, you got injured, you got thrown, you just got back up on the bull and you tried again. Especially if you wanted to get paid.
But riding a bull was different from being a doctor in the ER. When you were a bull rider, the only thing you had to worry about was yourself. You weren’t responsible for another person’s life. Plus, when you got onto a bull, getting hurt was always a possibility and you knew that going in. As a doctor, on the other hand, you expected to save other people, not have your own life be threatened.
No wonder the attack Charity had described had affected her.
Clearly, though, by the way she’d said it, Charity was trying to minimize what had happened to her and that made him wonder why. Taking a couple of months off work on stress leave was a pretty big deal and sure, admitting that you couldn’t handle something was tough. But it was nothing to be embarrassed about. Or was there more to it than simple embarrassment?
Why are you even thinking about it? What does it matter why? It’s none of your business anyway.
It wasn’t. Yet it was clear that she didn’t like talking about her decision to take some time out. It was clear that something about it bothered her and he didn’t like that she was bothered.
It made him want to help her. If she wanted something different, a break from medicine, then perhaps he could give that to her. He couldn’t help with much else, but he could certainly help her relax and have a bit of fun. He was a good-time guy after all.
After checking he’d finished with the boxes, he then headed back upstairs to the yarn store.
The place was looking much less cluttered now, but she was still going to have her work cut out for her with dismantling the shelves then ripping up the carpet. She’d mentioned to him that she’d wanted polished wooden floors, and that was going to mean sanding and then varnishing... Yeah, it was going to take some time.
“That’s the last of them,” he said, moving over to the counter.
She was bent over it, writing something in a little notebook.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, my plans for the store. Do you want to see?”
“Sure.”
She pushed the notebook to him and he glanced down. The paper was covered with an illegible scrawl.
He shook his head. “I’m sure it’s all great, but I can’t read that.”
She laughed. “Oh, sorry. Doctor’s handwriting. It’s always bad.”
“Why don’t you give me a quick rundown then.”
Charity didn’t need to be asked twice, launching into an explanation about how she wanted to paint the walls, pull up the carpet, and polish the floors. Then she was going to get in some new stock and maybe paint the shelves white to show off the yarn.
“You want to do all that? In time for the centennial?” He took a slow look around the store. “You might struggle doing it all on your own.”
“Yes, I know. I’m behind in my schedule.” She shot him a look. “Which is your fault.”
Well, he knew that. And he didn’t mind it one bit.
He gave her a wicked look. “Feel free to say no. At any time.”
She flushed, glancing away from him then back again, a smile curving her lovely mouth. “Maybe I should. Your ego is getting out of control.”
It wasn’t his ego. It was his desire for her, which showed no sign of abating. If he’d let himself think about it, it might have worried him. But he didn’t let himself think about it.
You can’t go getting involved.
He wasn’t getting involved. He was only sleeping with her and offering to help out with the shop preparation. That was all. No big deal.
“Why don’t you let me help out?” he suggested. “In return for getting you off track.”
Charity gave him an enigmatic look, biting on her lip the way she used to back when they were teenagers. “Help
out how?”
“I’ve done my fair share of painting and sanding. Had to, to get the ranch up to scratch after I came back from the circuit. I’m pretty handy with building and fixing too.”
She frowned. “What about your ranch?”
He thought of his uncle and his opinion that Garrett’s environmentally friendly approach to his ranching was evidence of his recklessness. He thought of his grandmother too, and how she’d left him the ranch, a demonstration of her belief in him. Both of them were very good reasons not to neglect it.
But then, he wasn’t planning on neglecting it. And it wasn’t like he was going back on the circuit again like his father had. He was only helping out a friend.
“I’ve always got ranching to do. But I can come over here in the evenings, if you like.” He nodded toward the shelving units. “You’ll need my help taking those down, and ripping up carpet and sanding floors is a hell of a job. So is painting. Plus, you’ll need help going through the stock and seeing which things you want to keep and which to throw away.”
Her frown deepened, but then she always frowned when she was thinking hard about something. It made him want to put his finger between her red brows and smooth the lines away. It also made him very aware of how much he wanted her to say yes.
Because he couldn’t think of anything nicer than being in Charity’s store and helping her get it ready for customers. And not because he cared about her customers, or her store, to be fair. It was Charity he wanted to spend time with.
She blew out a breath. “Well, I did want to do this myself, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t have a lot of time left. I don’t want to impose though.”
“You’re not imposing. I offered, remember? And I’d be honored to work on this. It’s my gran’s legacy after all.”
The frown on Charity’s face eased. “When you put it like that, I can hardly say no. Okay, you have a deal.”
He ignored the rush of satisfaction that shot through him. “Great. I’ll come here in the evenings after I’ve finished at the ranch. How does that sound?”