Disconnecting the call, he tried to shrug off the uncomfortable sense that despite everything he’d said, his sister hadn’t heard a word.
It shouldn’t matter what she thought.
It didn’t matter.
Not when, for the first time in as long as he could remember, his life was exactly what he wanted.
THIRTEEN
Nichole wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked into Bethany Slovak’s home except to say she hadn’t expected what she found.
AC/DC blasting at top volume and Garrett mid-jump, guitar twisted to his right as he landed in front of the TV. His nephews were squealing with delight and too focused on their absolutely insane uncle to actually follow the TV prompts from whichever one of those video rock band games they were playing. Or at least Garrett was playing. Sort of.
Obviously he needed some work on hitting the right notes, but when it came to flaunting a rocker attitude and entertaining his two charges...the full belly laughs coming from Neil and Norman said it all. He was a star.
Beloved.
The song ended and Garrett swung around in a showy move that ended in a deep bow toward his fellow bandmates.
But by then the kids had caught sight of her and were running across the living room, one talking over the other as they whooped and jumped and went into a nearly impossible-to-follow account of what Garrett had been up to since he’d arrived. The rules he’d broken the last time he’d watched them...inadvertently, of course...and how their mommy had made sure to remind him.
Garrett walked over, an unholy glint in his eyes, his hair standing up in a spiky mess. “You ready to rock?”
Brows shooting skyward, she started to shake her head, but Garrett already had her hand and was pulling her over to the mic.
Nichole took one look at Garrett’s tie, cinched around the stand, and laughed helplessly, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
God, he was fun.
Too many songs later, her voice had taken on a two-pack-day rasp, suggesting Garrett’s declaration it was time to wind down with a story had come at the perfect moment. Heading to the kitchen, she got a glass of water from the tap as Garrett settled in the center of the couch, one boy on either side, and read from The Chronicles of Narnia. His voice was low and clear. His audience—all three of them—were held utterly rapt.
It was...beautiful.
When the chapter was through Garrett closed the book, smiling indulgently as the boys pleaded for a few more pages. But Garrett was no lightweight when it came to kids and quickly the boys were helping to put the room to rights. Their uncle reminded them to be responsible for their toys, to respect their mother and not expect her to pick up their things, assuring them they were growing up to be men he was proud of. He shook their hands and they glowed under his praise as he pulled them each in for a hug and secured their promises they would do something silly the next day and not grow up too fast.
It made her heart ache and her throat burn in a way that had nothing to do with belting out eighties rock ballads at the top of her lungs and everything to do with the man in front of her with his nose in those little boys’ hair and all that incredible, undeniable love filling the space around them. And that was when the ground beneath her feet began to give. When the world around her shook. And the status quo didn’t just rock, but crumbled beneath the wave of emotion crashing over it. Catching her unprepared and dragging her back to sea with it.
Was this the riptide Joel had compared her to?
The current so stealthy and strong that once caught within it, escape was nearly impossible?
It had to be, because within the span of one man voicing his hopes for two others she’d gone from relative safety to in way too deep. And despite all Garrett’s good intentions, she was afraid not even he could pull her back from the depths to which she’d drifted. She loved him.
When teeth were brushed, one more drink taken and the last trips to the bathroom made, Garrett tucked the boys in while Nichole waited downstairs on the couch.
She was holding it together—because this wasn’t the time or place for a discussion about the state of their relationship or what this latest emotional revelation meant for it. They would see the night through, talk and joke, and she would soak up every last minute of this easy time together before it came to an end and the tough decisions had to be made.
Garrett walked into the living room and sank into the cushions beside her, letting out a thoroughly whipped breath as he did.
“I think they’re down for the count.”
It looked like he might be too.
“You’re a very sweet uncle,” she offered, wanting him to know how she saw him. “Those boys are lucky to have you.”
He gave her a lopsided grin that faded as he met her eyes. “I’m lucky to have them. I didn’t always appreciate it.”
“But you do now?”
He nodded. “When I first heard Bethany was pregnant and then that she was expecting twins, I was...overwhelmed by their existence. The idea of them alone scared the hell out of me.”
“Oh, Garrett.”
His head rocked back against the cushions and he closed his eyes. “I look at them now and I’m ashamed to think back to that time. I just... Hell, Nichole. There was already so much. It’s no excuse. But I felt like I was drowning. All the time. For years. Forever fighting to get my head back above water, hoping for one more gasp of breath to get me through whatever crisis or crossroads or challenge we were facing. Each night thinking just a couple more years until Maeve’s out of school, or Erin’s finished with her nursing degree, or Carla’s married. I was counting down my list of responsibilities and suddenly there were two more getting added on. They weren’t even brand-new yet. Barely more than potential. And all I could think was I wasn’t ready to start the clock again with another twenty-two years on it.”
Nichole leaned into him, resting her head on his chest, silently telling him she understood. Didn’t judge him.
Garrett stroked a hand over her hair, playing with a curl at the end before circling back to stroke again. “It doesn’t feel that way anymore. The day the boys were born I went to the hospital to check on Bethany. See the little people she’d created. And all it took was one look. Love at first sight. They were miracles. Those ugly, crinkled-up faces were about the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.”
Even with her heart breaking, she couldn’t help but smile at the awe behind Garrett’s words.
“It was crazy. I mean there they were, completely helpless. Their mother gorked out on whatever painkillers they’d given her following the C-section and all I could think was they would be fine. Ned was so proud. Such a dad. He looked like he could have taken down a hundred of me if I’d gotten in the way of the little family they’d built.”
“You didn’t feel responsible for them?”
At that Garrett let out a short laugh. “I felt responsible, all right. I mean what if something happened to Ned? To Bethany? Trust me, the what ifs are infinite. But I didn’t mind. I loved them. Which meant all those things I was going to have to do to feel like they were protected the way I needed them to be...were things I wanted to do. Couldn’t wait to do.”
The steady beat of Garrett’s heart sounded beneath her ear. Constant, like the man who housed it.
Once he gave his word, his protection, his love...it was forever. No wonder he guarded each so fiercely.
Nichole blinked, her body going still as a sudden thought whirled through her mind. He hadn’t thought he was ready to love those boys...but he did. Without reservation.
What if she hadn’t been the only one caught by surprise? What if now that Garrett had had a taste of what their being together was like he could embrace it and make room for one more in his heart? His future?
It was possible.
Yes, they’d agreed not to get serious, and she’d certainly tried to adhere to the plan...but the chemistry, the way they connected....
He’d promised he wouldn’t let her get too deep, but she was miles from shore. Maybe it was because he’d been caught in the same current and they were truly in this together.
Swallowing past that surge of hope, she tried to stay calm. To rein herself in enough so she wouldn’t betray everything she was thinking.
“I know you’re still just getting used to your freedom, now that you’ve finished school and your sisters are all on their own, but when you look ahead do you think you’ll ever want a family for yourself?”
Garrett let out a long sigh, then shifted lower on the couch, pulling her with him as he did.
“I don’t know, Nichole. A part of me feels like I’ve already raised four daughters. I’ve stayed up nights worrying about them. I’ve been their hero, the bane of their existence and everything in between. I’ve sweated with them over test scores and been as proud as a guy could be when I got to see each one of them graduate from college. And putting them first was something I was happy to do. But now that they’re older... Honestly, the idea of doing it again...choosing to make that commitment...asking for another responsibility. After all the years of living with the fear that I was going to drop the ball—and it would mean the difference between a future the girls could look forward to and no future at all—I just don’t think I want to go through that again.”
So much responsibility for one man. “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like. You were basically thrust into the role of single parent for four teen and pre-teen girls while you were still a kid yourself. But you did it, Garrett. You kept your family together and every one of you is a success in your own right.”
Garrett leaned close to her ear, teasing. “A sign I should stop while I’m ahead, not get greedy and press my luck, huh?”
He was joking, but Nichole couldn’t smile. A desperation was coming alive within her that wouldn’t allow her to let the subject drop until there was no question left. No uncertainty surrounding what was possible.
“But what if you met someone you didn’t want to live without? Someone who could be a partner to you? So you weren’t in it alone?”
Her breath held as Garrett seemed to ponder. Finally, he simply answered, “No, Nichole. It’s just not what I want.”
FOURTEEN
Nichole sat at the edge of her loveseat, shoes on, ready to walk out the door. As ready as she’d been for the past hour. As ready as she could be when everything inside her was begging and pleading that she reconsider. To give it just a little more time. To pull back, draw a new emotional line in the sand and give herself another week of pretending she could keep her heart in check before giving up to inevitability...there was no coming back from the place she’d gone.
And in that place she was alone. Because Garrett had kept things casual from his end. Staying true to their agreement in that regard at least.
Now she needed to get out before she got hurt any worse than she already was.
Forcing her fingers to open, she pushed slowly to a stand. Put one foot in front of the other until she found herself locking her door. Then stepping into a cab. And finally arriving at the restaurant.
Before she’d even paid the driver Garrett was there on the sidewalk, waiting for her with that big body, easy smile and ready arm.
So considerate.
Attentive.
Lovable.
Stepping into the warmth of him, she felt the first crack in her defenses. And when he pulled her into the hold of his body she almost crumbled.
She drew a deep breath, looking for strength, but found instead the clean scent of Garrett.
She should have broken away. Only knowing this was most likely the last time she’d feel his arms around her, smell the spice of his skin, take the heat of his body within her, she couldn’t do it. For one minute she burrowed closer. Drew deeply through her nose and only exhaled with the greatest reluctance.
“Hey, you okay?” came the muffled sound of Garrett’s voice as it whispered through the curls atop her head.
He had no idea of the havoc he wreaked within her.
Her palms flattened against his abdomen, absorbing the feel of the ridged muscles beneath even as she turned her face into the center of his chest, whispered a kiss against the spot that protected the part which wouldn’t ever be hers and stepped back.
“I’m fine,” she said, pushing a smile to her lips. “You want to go inside and we can get a drink?”
Arm still snug around her, because even though he didn’t love her he loved the intimacy of contact, he said, “They’re holding a table for us—”
“I’d rather just get a drink if you don’t mind.” She sounded tense even to her own ears, and Garrett picked up on it immediately.
His eyes narrowed, the skin across his cheekbones going taut, but he led her inside regardless.
Moments later they were seated at the end of the bar. A vodka tonic sweating condensation down her glass. She shouldn’t have ordered it. Wouldn’t have more than a sip or two. But she needed something to occupy her hands while she did what she needed to be done.
* * *
Garrett should have known something was going on. Nichole hadn’t spent the night with him after they’d left Bethany’s, offering an excuse about early meetings and being exhausted. He’d seen the tension in her face, felt it beneath his hands as he held her close. But he’d accepted it as fatigue, followed her home and kissed her goodnight at her door.
Only now the work day was done but the tension remained, and Nichole wanted a drink rather than dinner. It didn’t take a genius or even someone with a shot glass full of relationship experience to recognize that whatever was up was about them.
Damn it.
“Talk to me, Nichole.”
On her barstool beside him she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. And then she was angling toward him, an expression on her face he’d never seen before. One so completely different than anything she’d shown him in the past, if he hadn’t been sitting right beside her he might not even have recognized who this woman with the fixed semi-smile and shuttered eyes actually was.
“What we’ve had together these last few weeks has been incredible. Something I could never have anticipated or recognized was missing from my life. But, Garrett, neither of us were thinking it was going to be forever. And I guess what I’m saying is I think maybe it’s time we end things now.”
He nodded—but to himself, in a general confirmation of yes, it’s about you, Garrett—and for a second those emotionless eyes staring boldly at him registered relief. But her relief was to be short-lived, because he wasn’t about to agree.
“What’s this about, Nichole? Of course I get this isn’t forever. But why end it now?”
The rising din of the busy restaurant and bar gave Nichole a short reprieve in which she cleared her throat and searched every corner of the establishment like she was going to find an answer tucked behind a spare chair or potted plant. But Garrett wasn’t going anywhere, and when the next lull came and her eyes drifted back to his he was still there, waiting. Holding his mounting frustration in check with the mental assurance this wasn’t any big deal. Because there was no reason why something so good as what they had should end.
And he wasn’t about to let it.
“Did something happen I don’t know about?” Something with his sister? With Nichole’s work...? Maybe they’d had a misunderstanding he hadn’t even noticed. He was a guy. Apparently that sort of thing happened with them.
“No. It’s not any particular thing. No incident. It’s...gone on long enough, I think, if we plan to end things on a good note. You know?”
Garrett rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wond
ering if more practice in the dating arena would have better prepared him for a conversation like this one. Because as it stood it didn’t make sense. “Nichole, so what you’re saying is there really isn’t any problem. You aren’t mad at me for forgetting a somehow significant anniversary or because I didn’t call when I said I would. The attraction and connection are still there. This is just about ending ‘on a good note’?”
The stiff set of her shoulders said it wasn’t.
“It’s about this getting more serious than it was supposed to,” she said, her tone level and too cool for what was coming out of her mouth. “I care about you, Garrett. Maybe too much. Enough that what we have doesn’t feel casual and safe to me anymore. It feels...like more than we agreed on.”
She seemed relieved to have the words out, but his heart was starting to pound, the rush of blood was coming loud past his ears. This wasn’t what he wanted. What either of them wanted.
She was scared. And with her past, with those guys leading her on and then letting her go, he couldn’t blame her. But he wasn’t going to do that. He wouldn’t give her false expectations or promises he couldn’t keep. All they needed to do was... Hell, they needed to get out of here.
With a nod at her glass, he asked, “Are you going to drink that?”
“No.”
Garrett pulled a couple bills from his wallet and flagged the bartender before tucking them under his glass. Then, turning to Nichole, he held out his hand. “Come on.”
Outside the restaurant he looked up and down the street, trying to get his bearings in a neighborhood he knew like the back of his hand but was too damned frustrated about what was happening with Nichole—scratch that—what wasn’t going to happen with Nichole—to be able to bring into focus.
“Thank you for understanding, Garrett. Especially because of Maeve, it’s important to me that we not let things get tense between us.”
Understanding? Not really. And as for tense...seriously?
This was what he’d heard the guys grousing about over the years. This was the kind of unreasonable behind those baffled looks he’d never truly understood. But now he wanted to call up his friends from ten years ago and tell them he felt for them.
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