“Grandma, boy.” She knocked him upside the head playfully. “She trusted you after she saw that, and that freaked you out. It scared you that someone would have that kind of trust and faith in you.”
“I just…” Damn it, he hated it when she was right. “I had men who trusted me and…” His voice cracked, and his chin touched his chest.
“And things happened, Garrett. They weren’t your fault,” she gently told him. He knew she was right. Rationally, he knew.
Doc had told him the same thing.
The widows of his fallen brothers had said them, too.
Why couldn’t he believe them?
“Donnie told me about her,” she disclosed, and he shook his head.
“Donnie and his fucking files about everyone,” he muttered under his breath.
“I can’t even imagine. That poor girl.”
“She’d hate you saying that, Grandma. Stef…” His voice cracked. “She is everything good and bright about the world and—”
“And you walked away.”
He had and he hadn’t.
The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing because the moment he’d stepped out of her apartment without her, he’d been lost.
“First things first, you need to make sure you keep seeing your doctor, because you’re not useful to anyone if you can’t help yourself.”
To anyone else, her words might have sounded harsh, but at that moment, Garrett took them like a blessing. She was giving him direction he desperately needed.
“You need to decide what it is you want out of life. This training facility Bryan told me wants to hire you is obviously smart because they want the best. But is it really the only thing that will give you a sense of purpose? Of belonging?”
“It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I thought my life was going to be.”
“Funny thing about life, it’s always changing. Just like dreams,” she wisely shared. “Marc mentioned you were good on set, too. That you seemed to like it.”
“They all talk more than a bunch of girls.” He shook his head. “That was just to kill time.”
“But you enjoyed it,” she stated like a fact. She wasn’t wrong. Her hand covered his as she turned her body, her legs now bent, her feet touching the ground as she sat on the edge of the chair and looked at him. “You know what I find beautiful about forks in a road, Garrett?” She paused for dramatic purposes. “Anything is possible. It’s a blank canvas.”
A blank canvas. He mulled over her words.
“At the end of the day, it’s up to you what you want to do with it. If you want to be bold with color or minimalist with neutrals. The thing is to do something with it because at the end of the day when we close our eyes before taking our last breath, Garrett, it’s not the purpose a job gave us that we hold on to as we pass, but the purpose we had with those around us.”
“Nicola.”
“She has a softness to her, Garrett”, she told him, and he tilted his head toward her. He felt like he was sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for her to impart some of her wisdom on him. “Take care of that softness. Protect it.” She sighed, and she suddenly looked older to him. Tired. “She is going to be a great partner to someone, an amazing momma to someone’s babies one day. Either way, whoever it is she ends up with, you need to protect that softness, honey. You need to make a decision and make the right one. She’s lived too hard of a life already. It’s shocking that she has that left in her to give. It’s too beautiful not to shelter the little she has left.”
“So, you’re telling me to shit or get off the pot?” He tried to lighten the mood as the idea of Stefanie with someone else burned through him.
“Someone like her only has so much forgiveness to give. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I can always count on you to remind me,” he told her, and she turned to look at him. He knew what she meant with that one look, and stark reality hit.
She wasn’t going to be around forever. She was losing her own battle against time, and he had done a great job of ignoring it, but he knew he had to face life head on.
“I’ll remind you. Always. In whatever ways I can,” she promised, her hand squeezing his.
“Good.” His voice was like gravel, and he swallowed the tears he couldn’t shed.
His grandmother had always been this larger than life figurehead in his life. The head of his family, she had always been there, and the possibility of her leaving hit hard
He stood and extended his hand to take her weathered one in his.
“So…” she broke the ice as they walked toward the house, “you signing that paper, or should I get you a paper shredder?”
Stefanie
I’d received a promotion and then been laid off in the span of two weeks.
Fired.
Dumped and fired.
“Girl, you here?” Kip called, and I looked over my shoulder.
Sitting in his office at the bar, I tried to smile, but I couldn’t hack it. I probably looked like a lunatic, but it was Kip. He was used to me. Plus, I was too exhausted to care.
Exhausted and worried and sad.
When had I become pathetic?
“What’s wrong?”
“You looking for someone to do your books?” I tried to smile brightly, but it didn’t work.
“What happened?” he asked, scowling so deep the lines on his forehead grooved inward.
“I got laid off.”
“What? Why? I thought they gave you a promotion?”
“They did, but in moving up I lost my seniority, and I… I don’t know.” My bottom lip wobbled, and he stepped in and sat in his chair.
“Hey, kid. What’s that?” He leaned forward. “You don’t cry. What’s going on?”
“I’m just tired.” I shrugged.
“How about we try that again but without the side of bullshit this time.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just bummed I have to look for a new job.”
“So, we’re just gonna ignore the fact your shadow’s gone?”
“Exactly.” I swallowed hard. “It’s not worth mentioning,” I coolly answered. Something flashed behind Kip’s eyes.
“Okay, then,” he mumbled as he scratched the snowy scruff at his jaw. “Let me talk to a couple people. I think I have an idea of where you can apply or at least get you some leads for a new gig.”
“Thanks, Kip.”
“In the meantime, get a rag and go to the bar. You always had a knack at making great tips,” he mumbled, moving his attention to his ancient computer. He was obviously done talking, so I stood and headed out of the small space but turned to face him when I made it to the door.
“Thank you.” My voice was hardly above a whisper, and if it hadn’t been for his silent nod, I would have guessed he hadn’t heard me.
Walking out to the bar, I took a breath and ignored the way the memory of Garrett infiltrated even this space. My home away from home before I knew what home meant.
With a small shake to my head, I smiled.
Tomorrow would be better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Garrett
Thirty days since he’d seen his sunshine, and he was ready to face her.
He hadn’t left.
He couldn’t, and he had solved that with a call to his buddy. Apologizing for taking so long with his final answer, but he had to turn down the offer. Then he’d spent a week talking to dear ole Doc on a daily basis. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, his grandmother had been right. He needed to work on himself because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be any good for Stefanie, and any kind of future they could have wouldn’t be able to happen.
That didn’t mean he called or texted her.
He was taking a risk by staying radio silent, but he wrote to her. Every day and every night, he wrote a letter he kept in a yellow journal he’d picked up when Valeria had dragged his ass to a craft store with baby Henry.
In those letters he was h
onest. Raw. Vulnerable. There was no filter. He hoped she could one day forgive him.
He missed her.
She was never far from his thoughts. Not when he went to New York to do the scenes he’d ended up agreeing to for a movie Donnie’s friend was directing. Not when his family celebrated the Fourth of July.
He had kept Nicola’s blank canvas metaphor and ran with it. But work wasn’t what gave him purpose. Stefanie did. He was clear-headed and done keeping a distance.
Anticipation and nerves rolled and crashed into one another as he drove to her. But beneath it all, he was calm. It would all be okay. He’d figure out a way to make it okay. To make her forgive him for being an asshole.
When he arrived at Stef’s apartment, a stranger opened the door. Garrett found out she’d moved. His sunshine had left. Anxiety started to seep in. Concern about why she would leave her place hit. With only one or two options off the top of his head, he found himself walking into the dive bar that had seen better days in the middle of the afternoon.
The moment the grouchy old man’s eyes met his, Garrett knew to brace and stood at his full length.
“Do you have a death wish, boy?”
“Kip—”
“Man, I don’t know what you want, and honest to God, kid, my hand on a bible, I don’t give a shit. The best thing you could do is turn and walk the fuck out of here,” Kip tersely told him as he approached the bar.
“Kip…”
“I don’t know what you did to that girl. But I warned you! I told you she was special, and I know you did something, you fucking asshole! Something fucking stupid, so you better get the fuck—”
“I love her, Kip.” Everyone was watching his conversation with the old man, but Garrett couldn’t give a shit. If anyone could help him find Stefanie, it would be Kip. Stef loved the old guy too much to disappear from his life. “I love her. I came back for her.” The old man watched him, straightening his body.
“What are you planning on doing?” Kip asked, scrutinizing Garrett’s every move.
“I’m going to start by telling her that I love her—”
“You just did, Rocky,” the feminine voice that haunted his dreams spoke right behind him, and his heart went into beating at triple its speed. He turned and was shocked at what he saw.
Her hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, dark circles were under her eyes, and she looked too damn thin, almost drowning in the ugly blue oversized polo shirt that was part of a big chain pizza delivery chain.
“Now, you can go.” Her dim eyes met his for a split second before she simply walked around him, cautious not to let her body brush up against his, and walked toward the back of the bar.
“What?”
“I told you, kid. You fucked up,” Kip muttered and turned, doing whatever the hell he needed to do as Garrett sat his ass back down wondering what the hell was going on. Why wasn’t she living at her place anymore?
“Why is she dressed like that?”
“Because she just got off work,” Stefanie answered coolly as she popped her head back out, wearing a black tank top and leggings. “You ordering something or just trying to make the bar look busy?”
“Can we talk?”
“No. I’m on the clock.”
“What?”
“Look, Garrett, I don’t have time for this. Not today.” She wiggled her feet and suddenly, she was four inches taller. He looked over the bar as she stepped back to grab a bottle for another client. She was wearing ankle boots that made her legs even more spectacular. Ankle boots he had helped take off her feet the last time he had seen her.
“So, you have something to say, say it, or, I don’t know, email me. Text me. Call me. But right now, at this moment, I’m working,” she huffed, taking her hair down. He watched, speechless, as it cascaded down, and had to bite back a growl. “Unless you’re going to order something, can I ask you to clear the stool, so someone who’s going to drink and hopefully leave more than a quarter for a tip can sit down?”
“Fine. Sam Adams.”
“Great choice.” She rolled her eyes before turning, giving him a moment to study her. He didn’t miss her thinner frame. What the hell is going on? She moved and was placing the ice-cold bottle in front of him. She was exhausted.
“Here you go. Ten bucks.”
“A Sam Adams is ten bucks now?” he questioned. His lips twitched beneath his closely trimmed beard.
“For you. Unless you want to make it twenty?” she threatened sassily, and he couldn’t help but lean closer, not missing how her eyes widened for a moment before she pulled the attitude back in place.
“That’s fine. Open a tab for me, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He smirked, playing it a lot cooler than he felt. Her eyes flared, and he liked to see the fight in them.
He watched her through the night.
She smiled at everyone who walked in, but it never reached her eyes, not even close. You did that, asshole, a voice in his head chimed, and he clenched his hand around the bottle.
He didn’t know how, but he would make it up to her. He would spend the rest of his life making everything up to her. He’d work to the bone to help her light back up.
Stefanie
I was exhausted.
Working three jobs wasn’t easy.
Especially when all three were minimum paying gigs that had you on your feet the entire time. Thankfully, or unfortunately, I hadn’t really decided yet which one it would be. I didn’t have the third one to go to today after the bar.
“We’re closing,” I announced.
“I can see that. Pass me that rag and spray bottle. I’ll take care of the tables in the back.” I wanted to protest, but my feet hurt too much.
“Fine,” I bit, handing him the cleaning supplies. “Suit yourself. But it better be clean, Garrett, and not half assed,” I warned before turning around to do the other things I had to take care of before I could head home.
“He’s cleaning the tables,” Kip said behind me in the stock room, and I lifted and dropped a shoulder.
“Let him. It’s free labor.”
“You talk to him?”
“Nope.”
“Girl.”
“Don’t, Kip. I’m done.”
“Sure you are, kid,” he mumbled, shaking his head. I frowned.
“What’s that mean?”
“We both know you miss him.”
I did, but it didn’t mean I’d go back.
Liar.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Garrett
He’d watched her close the bar for two nights, and he didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere other than paying ten bucks a water bottle. He’d been patient. Tried to coax whatever the hell was going on out of her, but she wasn’t giving him anything.
It was time to make his move.
He’d sat in a booth tonight and watched her. She was dead on her feet and withering away in front of his eyes.
She frowned when he reached the bar, took the rag from her hands, and pulled her up.
“More free labor?” she sassed, but he had decided, he was done. “What! Garrett! Put me down this…oof!” she huffed the second her ass touched the barstool. “What is this? What do you think you’re doing?” She glared up at him, but he didn’t let her get to him. He simply moved his face closer, not missing the way her eyes widened as his forehead brushed hers before he let his nose glide against hers.
“Eat.” He put the bag of takeout on the counter and saw her mouth gaping. Leaning in closer so only she could hear, he continued, “Close that pretty mouth before I give you something to put in it.”
“I can’t believe you just said that,” she hissed, but it was the color to her cheeks that gave her away.
Looking from the bag of food to him and back to the food, she was obviously torn about what to do. She was hungry and tired and working three stupid dead-end jobs he’d come to find out about from one of the regulars after he’d passed him a fifty.
“Fine. But I’m eating because I’m hungry, not because you ordered me to,” she huffed, and he found himself grinning kissing the top of her head.
“Whatever you say, baby,” he muttered before sitting next to her.
She took the burrito out and unwrapped it, then he watched her take a bite and close her eyes as she moaned, “Mmm.” He felt that in his dick. “Breakfast burrito,” her voice rasped. He couldn’t get his stupid ass to look away. Watching her, wanting her. Jesus, she was a wet dream come to life.
“Sausage and bacon?” she asked, and he nodded his head.
“Yup. There’s a packet of table syrup in the bag,” he shared with an easy grin.
He remembered everything about her.
From the way her skin felt against his and the way her hair smelled, to the little things like her cute quirks with food. The first time she’d mentioned it, he’d been slightly grossed out at the idea of syrup in a breakfast burrito. But when he tried it, it had actually grown on him. The wonder in which she had just looked up at him faded, and she looked at her food. Her lower lip wobbled before she bit down and twitched her nose.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” He moved in closer, and when she looked up at him, they were the only ones who existed.
“Nothing,” she said thickly. “What’s the gig this time, Garrett?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s the game you’re playing this time?” she asked, and he stilled.
“Excuse me?” His voice dropped an octave lower. She sighed.
“I’m not being ugly or anything right now, but my life’s a little jumbled at the moment.”
“About that—”
“And I don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing.”
“I’m not. I wanna talk. Please. I just…” He traced her face. “l love you, Stefanie,” he said as he looked into her gorgeous eyes. She licked her lips. Damn. He missed that mouth. Her tongue. Her taste. Everything.
“I heard.” She smirked. He took that little half-smile as a good omen, so he kept on pleading his case.
CHEAT (Right Men Series Book 3) Page 22