“Yes.”
“You do know I’ve visited you nonstop since we first met, right? This is the first green light, if that’s what it is, I’ve gotten.”
He really was going to make her spell this out. “It’s a green light. It’s not going to get any greener.”
Still he didn’t move. They stood there, staring at each other in the silent room. The only sound came from the clicking on and off of the heater.
A minute ticked by and then, without a word, he put his hands on either side of her waist and pulled her in closer. The touch scorched her. Everywhere their bodies met—their chests, thighs—her skin burned. She ached with the need to wrap her body around his and just hold on.
“Clue me in here, Lauren.” His voice sounded rough and raspy now. “I mean, fuck yes, the answer is yes anytime you want. But why now? Why the change? I need to know that we’re not going to be dealing with regrets tomorrow on top of everything else you have to handle right now.”
She couldn’t hold eye contact. For a second, her gaze bounced around the room from the pristine white comforter to the velvet drapes covering the floor-to-ceiling windows and pooling on the floor. “It’s ridiculous, I know.”
“I sure as hell didn’t say that.”
The amusement in his voice had her looking at him again. Her gaze met his and something inside her tumbled. It was as if her stomach flipped over and kept spinning. “I have all this energy bouncing around inside me. My mind is scrambled and I teeter between being so pissed off I want to punch something and feeling guilty and half sick that Carl died that way.”
Garrett rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m confused and feel sad for him. For those who care about him.” She didn’t mean to dampen the mood, but she did need to say the words. Just once.
“Are you excluding yourself?”
She pulled back to look at him again. “What?”
“You’re not in love with him.”
There was no need to lie about this. She actually didn’t want to cover up anything when it came to Garrett. Something about him tugged at her, made her want to tell him her secrets and restart the life she’d convinced herself she could never have.
Stick to work had been her motto for so long. But now, just for a few nights, she wanted something else. Something that was just hers. Something private and real.
“I haven’t been for a long time.” She toyed with the band at the v-neck of Garrett’s sweater. “But I’ve spent these last few years hating him and now I think about what his final minutes must have been like and—”
“Okay. Let’s try this.” One of Garrett’s hands came up to cup her face. “Breathe.”
The gentle touch soothed her. She leaned into his palm and let herself slip into the sensation of skin against skin. “I think I just want to feel something.”
“It sounds like you’re feeling a lot.”
He understood. Maybe that was the piece that made all the difference. He didn’t judge her actions or what she did to push Carl away. No, the voices in her head took care of that.
“But none of it is healthy and nothing is within my control,” she said, thinking about the anger that had boiled up inside her when Carl came to her door.
“I am.”
“Meaning?” She silently hoped they’d finally landed on the same page.
“I’m here for whatever you need. Protection. Someone to listen.” His thumb slipped over her bottom lip. “Someone to touch you. A body to explore.”
Her breath hiccupped in her chest. She had to fight to find enough air to talk. “I’ve tried so hard to stay away from you.”
“Why is that exactly?” He leaned in until his breath blew across her cheek.
His hands moved to her back and his leg slid between hers. The roughness of his black pants seemed to penetrate her jeans. Her mind scrambled at the intimate contact.
“I don’t know.” Her breathy voice hung between them.
“I think you do.”
She didn’t want to talk about this. Not now. But something about the way he coaxed and supported had her spilling the secrets she’d kept locked inside. “Because I knew Carl was alive. I lied to the courts and anyone who needed to hear me say he was dead, but I knew.”
His lips skimmed her forehead then her nose. “There you go.”
Some of the Carl-related tension seeped out of her. “You knew that already?”
“You rebuilt a boating business and brought it back from bankruptcy, all while earning the trust of the men in your field and handling idiot clients.” His mouth hovered right over hers. “I was pretty sure you could identify a con man once it was clear he was one.”
“You were right.” She wanted to reach out, tip her head. Get closer. “I suspected all along. More than that, I could feel it. I knew he was alive and screwing with me.”
His hand slipped behind her neck, cradling her head. “I’ve been wanting you to say that since the first day we met.”
“I didn’t kill him.” She whispered the words because she needed him to know. “I rushed you out for a walk in the cold when you first got there, never letting you in the house. Someone might think that’s suspect but I need you to know I didn’t kill him and use you as an alibi.”
“I didn’t think you did.” He made a sexy little humming sound as he kissed her temple. “You are strong and have this thing where you stay quiet and assess and analyze from a distance.”
Her stomach dropped and she started to step back. “I’m aloof.”
“You’re a lot of things, Lauren.” Those strong arms held her in place. “You’re not aloof and you’re not a killer.”
She stopped trying to pull away. “And you’d know about the latter.”
“I’ve known a lot of killers.”
He’d dropped comments like that before but never followed up. She knew she should ask a bunch of questions but there was something comforting about the fact that he’d seen awful things and hadn’t changed. They didn’t harden him. For now, knowing that was enough. “That should scare me, but it doesn’t.”
“Further proof we’ll be good together.”
Her gaze dipped to his mouth. To that soft bit of sexy scruff around his mouth. “We should see.”
He answered by lowering his head. His mouth touched hers as his fingers plunged into her hair. One touch of his lips and any worries she had fell away. The kiss swept her up and whipped her around. She felt light-headed and almost drunk from the force of it. Heat raced through her veins and her fingers clenched his arms. She couldn’t get close enough or hold him tight enough.
She didn’t realize they’d moved across the room until her back hit the wall. The thud echoed through her. He reached down and slipped his hand over her thigh. It was all the coaxing she needed. She wrapped her leg around his and her ankle slid up and down his calf.
Heat thrummed off him. A growing bulge pressed against her. Need washed over her.
Their hands traveled and the blinding kiss roared on. Every muscle snapped to life. All that pent-up need exploded inside her. And when his hand went to her breast, cupping her, caressing her through her sweater, she fought to gulp in enough air.
Their heavy breathing floated through the room and a sexy little grumble sounded in his throat. When she arched her back and pressed her middle against him, the grumble morphed to a rumbling moan. She had never heard anything sexier.
His mouth slipped to her cheek then to that sensitive spot right behind her ear. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and yanked, desperate to touch skin to skin.
“God, yes. Lauren . . .” His hot mouth pressed against her throat, forcing her head back.
A rush of adrenaline had her pulling and tugging on his shirt. “Why are you still dressed?”
His laugh vibrated against her collarbone as his mouth dipped lower. “I can fix that in about two seconds.”
She palmed his cheeks and lifted his head so she could see those sexy eye
s. The intensity of his gaze stole her breath. He did nothing to hide his emotions. Need, desire, heat . . . it was all right there.
“Now, Lauren.”
She closed the brief slip of space between them and brushed her mouth over his. “Yes.”
Just as he deepened the kiss, a banging started in her head. She pulled back and tried to identify the sound.
“Who is at the damn door?” Garrett slowly dropped his hands. “Wait here.”
His words ripped her right out of the fantasy and dunked her back into the real world. Slowly the room tilted to rights again and the sounds and smells of the hotel came zooming back to her. Then his words hit her.
“Not going to happen.” As if she were going to start following his orders. She walked right behind him across the room, ignoring the frown he sent her way. “Technically it’s my room.”
“It’s in my name,” he shot back, not bothering to lower his voice.
He looked through the peephole and swore under his breath. Before she could ask, he gestured for her to take a turn.
“Jake.” She mouthed the word, barely making a sound.
Garrett swore again as he pulled down his sweater and put his clothes back in order. “I’m starting to hate everyone in your late husband’s family.”
She unlocked the door. “You’ll like Jake.”
“Probably not now that I know you do.”
Garrett forced his breathing to return to normal as she opened the door. The last thing he wanted was a visitor. Especially one related to Carl. But really, anyone. Not after he’d finally kissed her.
What the hell had he been waiting for? All those wasted months.
The taste and smell of her. The feel of her mouth against his. The way she grabbed on to him. Even now he could feel the bite of her fingernails through his sweater. All he wanted to do was kick this Jake guy out and get her into bed. Then keep her there.
The brother stumbled in. His breathing was labored and his gaze immediately latched on to her. “Lauren, I—”
“Hello.” That’s all it took to turn the guy’s attention. Now that Garrett had it, he came to one easy but annoying conclusion—he hated Jake on sight.
Garrett knew from the intel he’d gathered on Carl and his family over the last few months that Jake was four years younger than Carl. Only a month’s difference separated his age from Lauren’s. Jake also was taller than Carl, lankier and very single. Not to mention blonder with objective good looks that could place him in any city bar with a swarm of younger women around him.
He’d been married and divorced young. He held some sort of lower-level management job. Garrett didn’t care about any of that. He did care about the way he stared at Lauren. That was a problem because there was nothing brotherly about it. His gaze had traveled over her, hesitating on her breasts before returning to her face. Garrett didn’t have a brother, but he couldn’t imagine looking at a brother’s wife or girlfriend like that.
“The guy from DC, right?” Jake held out his hand.
Garrett was tempted not to shake it but he wasn’t a total dick. Still, he glanced at Lauren for confirmation. “Is that how you describe me to other people?”
She ignored him as she ushered Jake inside. “Are you okay?”
Garrett didn’t see that all the touching was necessary, but the guy had just lost his brother. Garrett was willing to refrain from punching him for that reason alone.
“I . . . We just got him back and now—” Jake’s words cut off as he shook his head.
Grief washed over the room. Jake’s voice was scratchy and his movements slow. Guilt punched into Garrett. Here he was hating the guy for his obvious crush on his sister-in-law and Jake was in mourning. Separating out all that had happened over the last few hours from how much he despised what Carl did to Lauren was harder than Garrett expected.
Garrett gave voice to the question burning in his mind. “How did you know we were here?”
He hadn’t shared that information with anyone but Wren, Matthias and Kayla. Detective Cryer had probably guessed since he was staying down the hall and they passed him when they checked in. They’d exchanged a few words that convinced Garrett the detective knew Lauren wasn’t his answer.
Garrett couldn’t imagine any of those people broadcasting the information about Lauren’s location. Not when a murderer was on the loose and the potential danger to her was still unclear.
“I’m sorry, your name is?” Jake asked with a frown.
“Garrett.” He admired the other man’s stalling tactic. He dodged right around the question without trouble.
“I’m Jake, Carl’s brother.” Jake turned back to Lauren. He took a step, closing the gap between them. “I needed to come over and talk with you.”
Uh-huh. Garrett doubled back to the obvious question. “Again, how did you know where to look?”
Jake barely spared Garrett a glance. “The police told me.”
Not likely. Garrett filed that information away for later.
Lauren walked Jake over to the couch. “Sit.”
“Lauren . . .” Jake shook his head and he propped his elbows on his knees. “What happened to Carl?”
She sat down next to him. “I have no idea.”
Garrett watched their interaction. She delivered every move and every word like she always did—clear and uncomplicated. Jake stared at her, his gaze following her as if he were hanging on each word.
“I know the two of you fought earlier.”
She shook her head. “Jake, I didn’t—”
“Oh, I know.” He sat up straighter and slipped his hand over hers where it rested on her knee. “What I really was asking about was what happened to Carl out there, during those years he was gone.”
“He didn’t tell you?” She leaned back into the cushion, sliding her hand along her thigh and out of Jake’s hold.
It was a subtle move. Impressive. Whatever Jake felt for Lauren clearly wasn’t reciprocated. That’s all that mattered to Garrett. That and the answer to how far Jake would go to feed this obvious crush. The idea that he might have taken out his own brother to grab his wife was almost Shakespearean in its sickness.
“He wouldn’t talk. It was as if he thought he could pick up his life as though nothing happened.” Jake talked with his hands. “It didn’t make any sense.”
Lauren nodded. “I got that impression from him, too.”
“What about the girlfriend?” Garrett asked, cutting through the bullshit as quickly as possible. He knew his original evening plans were over thanks to the visit, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend the night listening to this guy.
Jake’s gaze shot to Lauren and he winced. “Maybe we should—”
Lauren waved him off. “There’s no need to hide it. It’s not as if I don’t know about her.”
“Maryanne is here.” Jake glanced at his hands then back up at Lauren. “In town.”
That was interesting in a what-the-fuck kind of way. Garrett couldn’t believe the woman hadn’t skipped town, though she might have by now. If Lauren fell under suspicion, so would the other woman. “Were they still together?”
“No, he was clear he wanted Lauren back.”
“Sounds like someone needs to talk with Maryanne.” Garrett wanted that to happen before the woman wised up and ran.
Jake frowned at Garrett. “Why?”
“Right now she might be the only one with answers.” And Garrett wanted to know them as soon as possible.
Chapter Five
The next morning Kayla sat with Lauren in her office. They sipped on their takeout coffee cups from the diner down the pier where Kayla worked. That’s how they met more than a year ago. Due to proximity and over a shared love of bad horror movies.
Kayla was on a break as they both were most days at this time when Lauren wasn’t out on the boat, which was most of the time in the winter. They both kicked back, using Lauren’s desk as a footrest.
“So . . .” Kayla stared at Lauren over
the top of her cup.
Lauren knew from one syllable where the conversation was headed. She’d spent a good portion of the night thinking about him, listening to him breathe from the couch on the other side of the room and wishing Jake hadn’t shown up and killed the mood. “Nope.”
“Hey!” Kayla banged her heel against the desk. “You and Garrett. Talk.”
“Still no.”
“I knew about the trips down here, but yesterday when you needed someone to handle Carl, you texted Garrett.” Lauren wiggled her eyebrows. “That seems big.”
Very, but Lauren refused to admit that.
She sat up, letting her feet fall to the floor. “We aren’t going to become those women who only talk about men, are we?”
“Couldn’t we be them just long enough for you to give me the scoop on what happened in the inn?”
The pleading in Kayla’s voice made Lauren laugh. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I can’t believe Garrett let a solid opportunity pass him by. He seems like he’d be smooth. Good with his hands, if you know what I mean.”
Oh, she definitely did.
“His skills are fine. Trust me.” When Kayla started to say something, Lauren cut her off. “And that’s all you get for now.”
“You are so infuriating.”
“But you love me.”
Kayla drained the rest of her cup before setting it down on the edge of the desk. “Unconditionally.”
And she meant it. With so much of Lauren’s life revolving around chance and problems, Kayla was the one person she could count on. They talked. They hung out. They shared meals. They gossiped about the other people who worked on the pier and complained about the customers and the quirks that worked on their nerves.
Not that long ago one of Lauren’s big-money sailing-lesson clients had turned out to be someone other than who he pretended to be and tried to kill both Kayla and Garrett. The guilt from that day kept Lauren paralyzed for weeks. Neither of them had blamed her, so she’d decided to blame herself in their place.
“We should . . .” The rest of the sentence, whatever it was, disappeared from Lauren’s head as soon as the words trailed off. The figure in the doorway had her sputtering as she tried to remember anything other than Carl’s deceit.
The Negotiator: A Games People Play Christmas Novella Page 4