Jesus. She was going to kill him. His chest was heaving heavily up and down as he stood his ground, fighting his heart to grab onto her. He fought and nearly lost the moment she grabbed her purse and walked over to him, knowing the end was so fucking near he could taste it.
“You’re a liar and a coward,” she gave a verbal punch, and he deserved it, so he sat there and took it, bracing for another lashing, but his girl was too good. “I hope you stay safe with whatever you have to go do, soldier boy,” she whispered before leaning in, surprising him with a hot and heavy kiss he let her control.
She tasted sweet and of unfulfilled dreams. The good kind. He tried to memorize it, but it went by too quickly.
She broke the kiss, righted herself, and walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.
His fists clenched, his nails marking half-moons on the insides of his palms. His shoulders and head slumped forward, everything in his body hurting. Aching at the idea of never seeing her again.
He would only be gone two months, but he didn’t ask her to wait for him. He just needed time to get his head right. Time to see if he ever really could.
Shit. What if while he was gone she met someone else?
Someone else who would hold her hand.
Someone else who would happily watch her sing and torture poor, unsuspecting souls on karaoke nights at the Lunar Dive.
Someone else would touch and kiss every inch of her body.
Someone else would claim her as his own. That thought made his blood boil in anger.
No! He loved her! She was his, damn it! Not anyone else’s.
Shit.
He sat there for a long second, letting the realization sink in. If he let her walk away right now, he’d put any kind of future with her at risk. Or hadn’t he already? He’d never told her how much he loved her. Not out right, at least. The words had always choked him with the fear that saying them out loud would somehow tempt fate to take away the happiness he had found.
But damn it, he loved her.
There was no doubt in his mind or heart, no argument about how he felt. He just needed to do this. He needed to get his shit together. He needed to find his purpose.
But did purpose matter if he lost her?
Any other man would sweep in and claim her.
Jesus Christ. He rubbed his face. He was head over heels in love with his little bit of sunshine.
She was it for him.
There would never be anyone else for him, and she needed to know it.
Throwing on his jeans, zipping them up, and grabbing the hotel keycard, he ran out of the room, not giving a shit who saw him running barefoot and shirtless like a maniac. He reached the parking lot out of breath only to capture a glimpse of Stefanie’s beautiful tear-stained face, their eyes meeting for a millisecond before she drove out of the lot in her death trap of a car.
No. No. No. No. No.
She’d turn back.
She would.
He stood there, resting his hands on his knees, looking toward the parking lot, and waited. She’s going to come back.
She saw him come after her. She would be back.
_______________
He waited.
For two hours.
Barefoot and shirtless in the very spot he’d reached when their eyes had met. But she didn’t come back.
He’d fucked shit up, and he had no clue how to fix things. He walked back into the room, closing the door behind him, resting his head on the cool wood. He looked at the dresser where he’d sat her the night before and had feasted on her like a sentenced man enjoying his last meal before being sent to death.
His eyes went to the chair by the window, where he’d sat and she’d kneeled for him, giving him pleasure with her mouth that was out of this world. Then, finally, he looked at the bed. Tangled sheets were all that was left of their last night together.
He’d known it was their last, and he’d let her believe like a true bastard that it was the start of something more. Of something deeper than they’d already had. That he wasn’t going to run.
He wanted to rip the room to shreds. He needed to kick the shit out of something because he couldn’t kick his own ass.
But he didn’t.
He let his pent-up anger and frustration simmer while he packed. He looked through the room one last time and saw something shimmer by the end of the dresser. Stef’s necklace lay on the ground. He picked it up gently. The small cactus-shaped charm sparkled back at him, and he closed his hand, putting it into his front pocket.
Checking out at the front desk, he was tempted to leave the necklace in hopes she would come back for it but didn’t. Selfishly, he held on to it in his hand as he walked toward his truck, throwing his duffle bag into the bed.
Sitting in the driver’s side of his big Silverado, he took a deep breath, her scent filling his senses. He took the necklace out, hung it over the rearview mirror, and drove away.
Stefanie
It had been the beginning of the end.
Damn, I hate being right.
Walking into my apartment hurt. He was there in every corner of the space. I could see him holding a water bottle while watching me cook in the kitchen. Cuddled next to me on the couch watching TV. I could see him lying in bed, snoring, his body on display for me to appreciate. I could feel him touching my skin and sinking into me.
But it was done.
He was going God only knew where, and I had fooled myself into believing otherwise. Always trust your gut. My gut had been yelling at me the last two weeks that this would happen. Instead of packing the last of his things into a box, I’d let my fingers touch the necklace and pray I was wrong.
But I’d been right.
Taking two steps in, I stopped.
I couldn’t be there.
Not now.
Now when it hurt to see him in every corner of my space. Not when I knew if I walked into my bedroom, there would be two drawers full of his clothes in my dresser and his toothbrush sitting next to mine in the bathroom. Not when his ugly old flip flops were next to my pink flats in the closet. Not when everything I’d had, had been ripped away.
Not when I was close to sinking to my knees as my heart broke even more.
Closing my eyes, I thought about his lips. His arms. The way he’d kissed and held me.
Why had he run out of the hotel?
I’d been tempted to turn my car around and see what he wanted, but it hurt too much. For all I knew, he was running out to ask about getting his things.
On auto pilot I stepped into the shower, needing to wash him off my skin. Then quickly changed into jeans and a tank top with a push-up bra. Screw Garrett Wright. Screw him. Who did he think he was, anyhow? I’d been a kid who had always wondered what having someone would feel like.
I wished I hadn’t.
This was exactly why it was better to keep to yourself. Lesson learned. A lightning bolt of pain shot through my heart, but I gritted my teeth and blinked away any tears that threatened to spill.
Do not cry, Stefanie! I chastised myself.
I knew better than wishing for more.
Wishing for more was like hoping a family would suddenly show up and want to adopt me. Like wishing I had new clothes instead of whatever hand-me-downs my foster parents could be bothered to get. It was like wishing for rain in the desert.
It didn’t happen.
There was only one place where I knew I’d feel better. With that, I walked through my space, ignoring every single reminder that Garrett Wright had existed in my life and for a split second, I’d had everything.
I could dwell on that tomorrow.
Tonight, I was going to drink and sing my heart out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Garrett
The sale of his brother’s house happened a lot faster than Marc had expected. Being on set, he’d asked Garrett to oversee the movers, so there he was. Back at the big house, a knot in his throat. He was tired and sweaty, but the work had help
ed distract himself from everything swirling in his head.
But they’d finished everything a couple of hours ago, and he was sitting in his favorite chair, staring at the pool and wishing he could go back in time. He was still going over the contract he should have signed three days ago.
“I worried about you,” the distinct voice spoke, and he turned around to see his grandmother walk toward him. With her long white hair in a braid over her shoulder, her billowy, bright-colored dress stood out against the landscaping behind her.
“I’m fine.” He shrugged as she sat beside him.
“Are you?” she asked inquisitively. The woman had a talent of sniffing out the truth. Too bad for her. He had the same talent of avoiding shit.
“Yup.” He took the last swig of the now warm water he wished was something stronger. Like whiskey. But he hadn’t had a drink. He’d been tempted, but he hadn’t done it. “Nic—”
“I worried about you when you were gone,” she shared, her usually strong and steady voice giving way to the deep emotion she was obviously feeling.
“Nic—”
“Overseas,” she clarified. He brought up his body and turned to look at her.
“Nic—”
“Grandma.” She squeezed his hand and coughed. “I’m Grandma.”
“Grandma—”
“I’m glad you are okay,” she whispered and sniffled, looking away from him, her chin high as she stared out to the water in front of them. “She helped.” His back went ramrod straight. “But you were already on your way.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice sounded rough, and all he could think about was that ‘he doth protest too much’ quote.
“You don’t?” She turned her face and met his gaze head on. “Really, boy?” Her smirk told him more than he needed to know.
“I…” He shook his head. “She’s…”
“She must be something else for you to go back to this shit.” She tapped the contract with unmasked disgust.
“What?” His brow quirked up, and he moved his body in the chair.
“Come on, boy. I’m old, but I’m not dead.”
“I don’t understand what you think you know.”
“I know plenty. But you know I’m not one to talk in circles. It makes me dizzy, so it’s time to lay down some truth.”
“Grand—”
“The truth hurts, and this is going to, well… sting.” She sighed as her weathered hand covered his. “But like I used to tell you boys when you were little, it’s better to rip the Band-Aid off fast. I gotta tell you, honey, I saw the worst of you.” He closed his eyes because she wasn’t lying. “I saw your rock bottom.”
He opened his eyes, and she glanced at him with unshed tears in her wise eyes. “I saw how misplaced you were feeling. I saw the way you didn’t like who you were. How you thought you didn’t fit with us anymore. How lost you were. And I worried.”
“I was fine—”
“Don’t lie to me, Garrett.” She called him on his bullshit like she always did, and he swallowed hard trying to clear away the emotions that were bubbling up. “I was scared for you.” The raw honesty in her voice did something in him. It tightened the knot in his own throat.
“Grandma—” He lifted his hand. She shook her head, her eyes steady even if slightly bleary, and he couldn’t utter another word. His grandmother was a strong woman who hardly ever let anything get to her.
“My age, I’ve seen a lot. I saw the aftermath of more than one war, Garrett.” Her steady voice carried, and he was entranced by her words. “Men who were important to me left and returned.” She looked away, her thoughts lost in her own memories. “They came back changed. One, one very important man…not your grandpa, but before him… Andrew… he never found his way back.”
“Shit,” he muttered, unable to look away. The storm playing behind her eyes was so bright he knew she was reliving the past in her head.
“I was the one who found him after he lost his battle with the demons of war.”
“Grandma—”
“That day at the ranch. Seeing that version of you, hearing you talk to a girl like Grace the way you did. Talk about your brother, your blood, like that. I was worried you were so lost you wouldn’t find your way back.”
“I’m here,” he stressed, and her eyes softened.
“And I can’t tell you how thankful I am you are. My beautiful boy. But like I was saying, you were on your way. After that ugly business at the ranch, you started to get help.” She squeezed his hand, and for being a tiny old lady the strength she held was remarkable. “You were on your way already before you met her.”
“Stefanie and I broke up. It’s done,” he gritted, but he couldn’t ignore the debilitating pain he felt saying it out loud. It was so damn final.
No more sunshine.
Just dark skies.
“Do you really believe that?”
“Nic—” He groaned, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
It wasn’t. He was just a coward.
“Are you going to deny this old woman the truth?”
“No.”
“I bet money she didn’t let you have the last word.” He chuckled.
“Jesus, how do you know these things?”
“You’re don’t get to my age without going around the block a couple of times and observing people,” she shared before her face softened. “I liked her,” she admitted. “I liked her a lot.”
“You could have fooled me with how quiet you were.”
“I was… Can I be completely honest, honey?”
“When haven’t you been?” Her lips twitched at his comment, and he turned to focus on the pool before rolling his eyes.
“I was blown away,” she whispered. He flinched in surprise.
“By what?” He turned to look at her blue stare.
“Seeing you,” she said, and he stilled. “You just were with her. The man I thought was gone was right there.” She patted his hand. “You were there, smiling and laughing easily, and it was this tiny, little, young thing that was bringing you back. I had to make sure it was real. That she was real. Because if she was just in it for your money or your brother’s fame, I didn’t want to know what it could do to you.”
“Gram—”
“I didn’t want to lose you if she was playing you.”
“She isn’t like that,” he responded, fighting to grit his teeth. Stefanie wasn’t like that at all.
“I know that, too. I just had to make sure.”
“Jesus, what did you say to her?” He frowned. Surprise flashed through her wise eyes.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask?” She raised a challenging brow toward him, and he sighed.
“I didn’t push.”
“I was honest with her. I might have…” Her voice drifted off, and he sat up.
“You might have what?”
“Insinuated if she was a gold digger, she had no place here.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Nicola,” he groaned. His poor sunshine. Why didn’t she say anything to me?
“If it makes you feel any better, she put me in my place.”
“She’s the farthest thing possible from a gold digger.” Hell, she had just sent back an envelope with the pieces of a ripped-up check he had sent to replace all the things he had damaged.
“Then why the hell are you leaving?” she asked.
“I—” He scrubbed his face, wondering the same fucking thing. “I don’t know. One moment, everything was great. Perfect, really.”
“Perfection isn’t real.”
“But it was,” he argued. “With her…” But then a knot formed in his throat.
“Talk to me, child.”
“With her, I slept,” he admitted. He rested. His mind shut off and didn’t gorge itself on the memories. “I was me. But I kept choking on my words. I couldn’t get it out, but
I made sure there were other ways she would get I love her, and then… I fell asleep.”
“Okay.”
“One moment, everything was perfect in my life, then I fall asleep and wake up to it ruined,” he admitted, the water in the pool glittering as the sun set behind them. “I fucked up. I hurt her. I—”
“Tell me you didn’t lay a hand on that girl.” His eyes met his grandmother’s.
“No! Jesus, no. I… I had a nightmare and woke up, but I wasn’t there. I—” He took a deep breath and fought the urge to look away from the woman who’d known him since birth. “I broke shit. At her place. I ruined her place.”
“Replace it.”
“I tried.”
“What happened?” his grandma asked in a soft tone he didn’t know she was capable of.
“She sent me the check back, ripped in tiny pieces.”
“I like her.” Her lips twitched. “I really, really like her.”
“That’s good, because I love her,” he said out loud and let the words and sentiment sit between them.
No prickling fear or panic struck. He loved her.
“Let me ask you something, did you try to replace everything before or after you told her you were leaving?”
“How do you know about that?” he asked. He was going to talk to her and his parents the moment his signature was on the contract.
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop asking stupid questions?”
“After,” he muttered.
“Hmm.” She took her hand away from his and settled into the lounger by the pool, sprawling her legs in front of her.
“She came from unsteady shit, Grams. Her whole childhood was fucked up. She didn’t have anyone to count on. Why the hell would I want to give her a lifetime of that?”
“What about after?”
“After what?” he asked.
“What did she do when she saw her place after the nightmare? After you broke shit.”
“She held me. Gave me water and something to relax. Called Donnie and Bryan and made me go back to bed.” His elbows rested on his knees, and he rubbed his temples.
“She trusted in you,” Nicola clarified, and he shook his head.
“Stupid.”
“No, she isn’t the one who is stupid. You are.”
“Nic—”
CHEAT (Right Men Series Book 3) Page 21