“Sing.”
“Sure, let’s call it that.”
“I sing.”
“Is that what you call it?” he asked with a serious face that rivaled the hardness of marble. My eyes widened and then narrowed.
“What’s with the fake grouch bit?” I asked, surprisingly sounding a lot more confident and calmer than I actually felt.
“Nothing fake about it, babe.” Babe. His tone was suddenly ice-cold and condescending. With a roll of my eyes, I turned to face Alex as he brought us our drinks. I grabbed my pop and glanced over at the jerky but sexy stranger who was obviously there to tie one on.
“Thanks for the drink.” I shook my head, about to walk away with every intention to find a different seat. He was hot, but there was no one I would ever let talk down to me.
Not anymore.
People could be disrespectful assholes, but that didn’t mean I had to be around them. I had crossed paths with one too many in my past. And who does he think he is? A simple thank you could have sufficed, but he was a dick. A dick with a capital D! But before I could leave, a warm, strong hand covered my wrist, and I looked up at him.
“Don’t go,” his deep voice spoke, and my heart flipped in my chest.
Oh my.
Chapter Five
Garrett
“Don’t go,” he pleaded, gently holding her tiny wrist in his hand. He watched her blink and then frown.
“Why? Because you’re obviously enjoying my company?” she argued, and fuck, he couldn’t help but think she was cute. She made him want to laugh. How long had it been since anyone had made him feel like that? Light and free?
“Please sit.” He offered her his seat. She worried her lower lip, and just like that, the half chub in his pants started to grow. He wanted to nibble on the supple flesh.
“Fine,” she sighed, and he didn’t know what came over him.
One moment he was keeping his hands to himself, and the other they were on her. Her top was soft, and it made him think of how much softer her skin would be. His hands moved to her narrow waist, and he was unprepared for what happened. A current of sensation, warm and cold all at once, in flurry, rushed through his nervous system, settling in his blood. She gasped, and he stilled. She feels it, too. His dick twitched behind his zipper. She weighed close to nothing, he noted in the split second he lifted and sat her on to the barstool.
“Thanks. I could have got on here, but your way was…” She pressed her lips together as if catching herself from saying something.
“Quicker?” he guessed, and she raised a pretty brow but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her. She was better than his drunken memories.
“Sure,” she muttered and looked away from him.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do with a woman. He was far from a Casanova, but he had been known for having game. But with the woman who had plagued his freaking thoughts since he had left her apartment, he had none.
He didn’t like not knowing what she was going to say. He didn’t like how curious it made him. How he was on the edge of his figurative seat, waiting to see what she was thinking. Garrett never wanted to know more from anyone.
He also found he didn’t like not having her full attention, and he wanted it back.
Stefanie
I was somehow successfully pretending to be cool and collected. Somehow containing myself from jumping up and down like the spazz I was known to be.
“So,” his rough voice broke the silence.
“So,” I repeated like some kind of parrot. So much for smooth.
“You like karaoke.” His lips twitched like they were fighting a smile. It wasn’t a question. My enthusiasm during my performance had been more than clear.
“I do. And as you saw, my adoring fans love me,” I pointed out, smiling. He shook his head, hiding his tipped lips behind his glass as he took a healthy drink. “And do you, umm, karaoke?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“No,” he answered and didn’t say anything else. That wasn’t surprising. He didn’t look like the type to willingly make a fool of himself. I looked away, because if I didn’t, I would stare at him for hours.
“I think you were chattier beaten up,” I teased. He looked at me, and I got the pleasure of watching his face transform completely. His lips tipped upward, and a deep gravel-like sound escaped from him as he laughed.
“I like you, Cupid,” he said, and my heart flip-flopped inside my chest.
“The name is Stefanie, actually. With an f, not a ph.” I winced and looked away. Oh yeah. He was definitely like the sun blinding me stupid.
“Stefanie with an f,” he repeated before clearing his throat. “Suits you.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Though I like Cupid, too.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing and turning my head to look at him. “I gotta be honest, Rocky, I have no idea what that even means.”
“Rocky?”
“You know, the fighter? Sylvester Stallone? ADRIAN!” I did my best impression and watched his eyes tip up. The darkness that had been clouding them disappeared, and they filled with incredible light. In that moment, I could understand the desperation junkies experienced when they looked for a high.
I would have done anything to keep that look in his eyes.
“Rings a bell.”
“It should. It’s an iconic movie, plus it was about your time, right?”
“My time?” he asked with surprise, a small chuckle escaping from him.
“Yeah. You’re like, what?”
“Oh man. This I gotta hear,” he surprised me by turning, caging me in between his knees. “How old do you think I am, Cupid?”
“Hmm.” I tilted my head, taking in the man in front of me. The soft lines by his eyes and the muscular tone to his body. There was a little salt to his dark hair and on his scruffy jawline, but not too much. “Not a day over forty,” I guessed, and his lips quirked upward.
“That’s not a guess.”
“Am I warm?” I smiled, biting my lower lip, but he didn’t give any signs of helping me out. If anything, the way his gaze was clearly amused made me a little giddier. “Okay…” I drawled out slowly. “If I have to guess a number… Thirty-nine?”
“Thirty-eight, but if it makes you feel any better, I have a birthday coming up soon.” He shrugged and moved back, letting me go from between his legs. His big, bulky body moved with a gracefulness that made my thoughts go back to that alley way a couple of weeks ago.
“So…”
“So?” He glanced over his shoulder, taking a sip from his diet Coke.
“Look, I’m so not good at beating around the bush stuff, so I’ll come right out and ask.”
“Okay.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why did you help me?”
“What?”
“Why did you help me that night in the alley?”
“You came all the way here to ask me that?” I questioned, and he nodded. “Why did you let them kick your ass?” I asked without thinking and shook my head as my face burned with embarrassment. Way to go, Stef! “I mean, you’re obviously more than capable of defending yourself,” I blurted. Damn me and my big mouth! I watched as his big, powerful hands clenched around his drink.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered, finding my way off the barstool. “It was nice seeing you.” I turned and walked away.
I needed to get away.
He brought out my stupid quirky personality tenfold, and I had made enough of a dumb ass for one day.
Stepping out into the darkness of the night, I walked right to my car without glancing back.
Chapter Six
Garrett
He should have let her go.
He should have let her walk out the doors of the old hole-in-the-wall bar, finish up the disgusting diet Coke, and get his ass back home.
But he couldn’t.
She had plagued his freaking head with her smile and soft touch. Or the hazy recollection of it had.
He needed— Fuck, he didn’t know exactly what the hell he needed; he just knew it was more. More of her.
Throwing a bill on the bar, he walked out and didn’t stop until his eyes connected with the back of her head.
Cupid, no, Stefanie, wasn’t playing games either.
She was completely oblivious to the world around her, and it scared the shit out of him. Taking a quick look around, he noticed there were people outside, smoking and talking, but there were two guys to the side of the bar looking right at her, and he knew what they saw. He stared at her, at the way her skirt innocently swished back and forth.
Jesus, he was as bad as the creepers checking her out. He knew better. She was way too damn young for him. Way too bright and filled with sunshine and rainbows for a man like him. She had no fucking clue what she was baiting men with. Her easy million-dollar smiles that had a way of blinding you and innocent gazes and quirky questions. The need to protect her rushed through him.
She stopped at the door of a tiny rust bucket that had seen better days and was looking for her keys when he cleared his throat. She jumped, placing her hand over her chest.
Jesus, Garrett! Look away from her tits! his mind ordered, but his eyes didn’t move for a pregnant second. They were full and perky. Damn, they’d feel good in his hands. He couldn’t believe he was ogling her like some kind of pervert.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Stef—”
“You almost gave me a heart attack!” she scolded.
“Stefa—”
“Do you always creep up on people? Jesus, you think a chunk of a man like you would know how to make noise!” she exclaimed. He found he liked how she talked to him. No filter, not giving one fuck about what he might think.
Just honest.
One hundred percent her.
It was refreshing. No one in his life talked to him like that anymore.
“Old habits,” he admitted. His military training was a tough one to shake off, even four years after being discharged.
“Of sneaking up on people?” she asked incredulously, her eyes round. “What were you, an art thief?”
“Hmm,” his voice rumbled in his chest without him answering.
“So, is the tattoo on your torso your art-thieving gang’s crest?” she asked, and damn, he wanted to laugh but instead narrowed his stare at her.
“You snuck a peek of the goods, Cupid?”
“First off, do you know what Cupid even looks like? A baby in a diaper! Second, no, I was not sneaking a peek. I was making sure you didn’t have some weird internal bleeding bruising.”
“So, it was for medical purposes?”
“Of course!”
“Why did you do it?” he found himself asking her again.
“Because if you had internal bleeding, you bet your bippy I was going to take your happy ass to the hospital—”
“No.” Garrett shook his head. “Why did you help?” he asked and watched as she opened and closed her mouth. The pretty bow of her lips tempted him for a taste. Where the hell had that come from?
“I was just trying to help,” she answered too softly, showing more than he imagined she intended to.
There was vulnerability in her voice and the way she broke their eye contact. He hated seeing it. Something about the sassy and sweet brunette told him she wasn’t the type to expose weaknesses, and something in him roared up to life. Something he had kept tapered down sprung to life. He wanted to be the one to shield her from anything and anyone who even thought about harming her.
Then get the hell away from her, asshole, a voice spoke in his mind, but he pushed it away.
They were just talking.
He wasn’t doing anything.
He wouldn’t hurt her because he wasn’t going to touch her.
“Trying to help?” he found himself repeating.
The thought of her helping some other guy, the idea of all the shit that could have happened if those assholes hadn’t run off, entered his mind. “You could have gotten hurt,” he mumbled roughly, and she stiffened.
“Fine, I get it.” She stomped her cute, tiny feet, her hair shifting from one shoulder to the other. “You came here from God only knows where to tell me to be smarter—”
“Cupid—”
“Trust me. I won’t do it again. Now, if you don’t mind, I had a long freaking week, and I have a new lamp to buy in the morning, so you can just—”
“I’m sorry.” The apology slipped out without him thinking, and she looked up at him. Her face looked almost ethereal under the moon and streetlight her car was parked under.
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry. That came out—”
“Jerky,” she helped him out, and he couldn’t fight the way his face relaxed and his lips tipped upward.
There was something utterly unique about this woman and his reactions to her. He couldn’t hold back and use the same mask he had been wearing for God only knew how long. Where everyone else tiptoed around him, she told him exactly what she was thinking and didn’t mind calling him on his shit.
She was a lot like his grandmother in that way.
“You’re right,” he found himself admitting and didn’t miss the way she frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Apologizing. I came here to…”
“To what?” she asked, her tone dulcet. It filled his veins with something warm he didn’t understand.
“To thank you.” He cleared his throat, his tongue too big for his mouth. “To thank you, and I don’t know. Talk?”
“Talk?” Her eyes were round and filled with mischief. “I somehow don’t believe that.”
“Why’s that?” he challenged, enjoying her sassy mouth too much. So much he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“You weren’t exactly Chatty Kathy back there.”
“You’re so damn adorable,” he said under his breath, but by the way her eyes flashed, he knew she didn’t miss it. Smooth, Wright, fucking smooth.
“I am?” she asked, and he loved the pink tinge on the apples of her cheeks. It made her look even younger. When was the last time I made anyone blush?
“Can we start over?” he asked, not wanting to share exactly how fucking adorable she was.
“Again?”
“Yes. I promise to be more…”
“Gallant?”
“I was going to say nicer, but I think I can muster up gallant.” He popped a hand out of his pocket, extending it out toward her. “I’m Garrett Wright.”
“Stef,” she mumbled, letting her hand fall into his. Warmth spread through him at the touch.
He gripped it a little tighter, making sure not to hurt her, but to see if she had felt it. Something in her eyes flashed through, but as soon as it was there, it disappeared. A zing of recognition shot down his spine and settled over the left side of his chest. Mine, a soft voice rang, but he shook his head, let go of her hand, and stepped back.
“Nice to you meet you, Stef.” He cleared his throat.
“Stefanie, with an f. Stefanie Banks, actually,” she stuttered nervously. She was cute.
“Garrett Wright,” his voice rumbled. “With a W.” He winked, flirting with her. Stop it! A red flag in his mind’s eye waved, but he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see anything past the beautiful woman in front of him.
“Mr. Wright, huh?” she asked. Her eyes glittered with mischief.
He had never liked being called that. He was no one’s Mr. Right or Prince Charming. But the way she was smiling up at him, open and giving, he wanted to be that and so much more.
“Miss Banks,” he rumbled, and she blushed. Fuck, that blush was going to be the death of him. Innocent but tantalizing. His hands suddenly had a mind of their own. The need to touch her cheek more than his next breath was overwhelming.
When he raised his
hand, she flinched. It had been small, but he had seen it.
An ugly feeling sunk to the pit of his stomach. Garrett wanted to kill whoever had hurt her with his bare hands, but the moment she silently leaned into his touch, something else ran through him. She trusts me. He felt it in his gut. They didn’t know one another, but he knew she did, and the realization terrified him.
Mine, a deep voice growled in his head, but once again, he chose to ignore it.
He’d had women in his life. His mother and grandmother. More now that his brothers had settled down, but he’d never had anyone to call his own. Not even before he had enlisted.
Mine. The word kept repeating as he stared at her in the moonlight, and he felt a deep scowl fall on his face. He wasn’t meant to be with anyone.
He didn’t have that in him.
He was a fucking mess.
The shit storm he’d created with his brother Marc and his woman, Grace, proved it. He could still remember the fear he’d felt as he had quietly watched and silently prayed his actions hadn’t ended what Marc and Grace had found with one another. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he focused on the woman in front of him.
Mine. There it was again.
Not only was she freaking beautiful, she was sweet and innocent and too fucking young. But the way her honey-eyed gaze was set on his darker one, he felt something. Something deeper, meaningful. A deep sense of recognition he didn’t know how to put to words. It washed over him like a balm, soothing and soft and so freaking warm. Breathing was close to impossible.
“You okay?” she asked, a small smile on her face, and he nodded, shaking the crazy thoughts out of his mind.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked without thinking. Her eyes widened, and she leaned away from his touch. He knew he’d fucked up somehow.
“I…” She looked over her car and shook her head. “Wow.”
Now he was sure he had messed up. He hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded. She sighed, and her hair swayed back and forth, making his fingers itch to touch her.
“Look, Cupid—”
“My name is Stef. Not Cupid or honey or babe or anything else you might come up with,” she bit, her eyes flaring with a fire he felt in his dick. “And thanks for the offer, but I’m not that kinda girl. Not even if you are as hot as you are. Hope you can find someone else who will, you know”—she tipped her head and lowered her voice to what he could only guess was her attempt to mimic him—“get outta here with you.”
CHEAT (Right Men Series Book 3) Page 4