by Chelle Sloan
There. Charlie gave me the opening. It won’t be weird if I ask about it.
“Yeah, Cullen said something about Garrett moving in. He actually drew a picture of the family and I noticed there were three adults in the photo. Is he OK?”
Charlie nods as she situates Cullen in his booster seat. “In general? Yes, he’s fine. In the long run? He’s going to be better than fine. He’s finally starting the process to get out of the marriage he never should have gotten himself into.”
“Yeah, he said something the other day. I just didn’t know he moved out.”
Charlie hands Cullen his iPad and closes the door of her SUV.
“The other day? I knew that Garrett was helping out with the food drive. Do you see my brother-in-law regularly? And how do I not know about this?”
She says it with a begging smile, like a pre-teen friend at a sleepover who wants you to tell her about the boy you like. Or at least, that’s what I imagine it would be like.
“It’s nothing. There’s really nothing for you to know about,” I say, probably a little too quickly, but I don’t want her to think anything is going on between me and Garrett. “He asked me if there was more volunteer work he could do after the food drive meeting, so he came with me for the monthly school cleanup last Saturday. We went to breakfast after and he mentioned that he was trying to start the separation process. I haven’t talked to him since.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything right away, instead, giving me a kind of confused, kind of shocked look. She’s probably wondering why I rambled like that when explaining my harmless, purely platonic relationship with her brother-in-law.
“He told you about Annika?”
Out of all of that, that’s what she’s asking? “Yes. And his first wife. He started talking about golf, then it morphed into a conversation about… well, everything. I had a feeling he didn’t talk about that stuff a lot, so I wanted to give him an ear. I didn’t mean to pry. I felt like if I could give him a mini therapy session, it was the least I could do.”
Before I know it, Charlie is launching herself at me, wrapping me in a hug that I’m pretty sure could kill if she wanted it to. I really need to ask her one of these days what she does for a living.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says before letting me go. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think she shed a tear. “Mark has been hoping for years that Garrett would talk to someone. He hated it when Garrett married Annika because he knew he was just going down the same path as he did with Michelle. Of course, Garrett was hardheaded about it and didn’t see anything wrong with his decisions. But now, the fact that he’s volunteering with you, and talking, and he’s been so different since his scare, and I have a feeling that it’s because of you. So whatever you are doing, please, don’t stop.”
Now it’s my turn to be shocked. “I doubt it’s because of me. He just seemed like he needed a friend. I’ve been there before. Sometimes you’re just lost and you need someone to hold your hand. Even though you know where you want to go, you still need someone to help guide you. I’m just glad I could be there for him.”
That part isn’t a lie. I do know what it’s like to be lost and searching for purpose. Knowing where you want to go, and what you don’t want to go back to. And even though the path is free and clear for you, you just can’t seem to pick up your feet and get there.
“Well, you have been, and we can tell the difference in him. He used to be a huge asshole. Now he’s only a partial one.”
I laugh. “I’m glad to help.”
She gives me another quick hug goodbye before she walks to the driver’s side of her car. I just turn to walk away when I hear her say something that never in a million years I would have expected.
“I know he’s still married. And I know he has a long road ahead. But if you became my sister-in-law, I have to say that I wouldn’t hate it.”
I really hope she didn’t see me blush before she drove away.
Chapter Nineteen
Garrett
“Has hell frozen over?” Trevor jumps a bit at the sound of my voice, and even blinks a few times at my presence, which makes me laugh. “A bit jumpy, are we? And why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not jumpy,” he says, picking up his phone to frantically type out a text message. “I just didn’t think anyone else was here. What are you still doing here?”
I take a seat across from Trevor, kicking my feet up on his desk like I do every time I enter his space. “If you ever stayed late on a Friday, you’d know that I’m always here past five to make sure we aren’t coming up on any deadlines for clinic funding. I hate walking into paperwork on Monday. The question is, what in God’s name are you doing here? I didn’t think you knew that you didn’t have to evacuate immediately at five o’clock?”
“Very funny, asshole. You act like I’ve never put in long nights here.”
“You know I’m getting old. My memory isn’t what it once was.”
I give Trevor shit, but we both know he’s right. Back in the early days of Innovative, we made sure to buy comfortable couches to sleep on because we knew we would be putting in long nights to get the practice up and running.
Mine has only ever been used for sleeping. I’m pretty sure Trevor can’t say the same. In fact, I know he can’t.
God, when was the last time I had sex?
Yes, just the thought of hypothetical sex on my business partner’s couch sends my brain down the path that it has gone down way too much lately; that it’s February and the leaves were beginning to fall the last time I had sex.
“Dude, where is your mind at?” Trevor asks. “Everything OK?”
Right then I realize how little I’ve talked to Trevor since my embolism. He called and checked in on me when I was in the hospital and kept me up to speed about what was going on at the practice and clinic before I could return to work. I haven’t been running as much as I used to, call it not wanting to go back to the scene of the crime, and he’s been busy with his flavors of the week. Or, at least, I assume so. I notice he’s been scheduling later appointments and leaving as early as possible. Usually when he does that, he has someone a little more permanent than a one-time thing keeping his bed warm at night.
“Annika and I are getting a divorce.”
At first, my statement doesn’t register anything. It’s almost like I told him the sky was blue. But then, it’s almost like he catches himself not reacting.
“Really? Wow. Wait, divorce? Did one of you…”
I know where his question is going. He wants to know if one of us cheated on the other, which is one of the few ways in this state you can get a divorce without a waiting period. “I didn’t. She might have. I’m honestly not sure. I don’t have proof. So we are doing it the long way. I moved into Mark’s until I can find something more permanent.”
“Damn, brother. I wish I knew. I didn’t even know you were having any problems.”
I let out a sigh before telling my best friend everything that I’ve been holding back from him about my personal life. I do stop myself before telling him about how I’ve been spending my free time these days, volunteering and spending time with Paige. Working on myself for once before jumping into another toxic relationship. I know I shouldn’t be ashamed about it. And I’m not. I’ve felt better about my life these days than, well, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. But, for some reason, I don’t want to share that part of my life with Trevor.
I’m going to tell myself it’s not that I want to keep Paige to myself. Because I know as soon as I tell my playboy business partner that I’ve been spending my weekends with a beautiful woman and not sleeping with her, Trevor will be trying to worm his way into the situation, despite my suspicion that he’s now seeing someone.
“Enough about me. Where are you off to?” I don’t know how I just realized it, but Trevor is dressed to impress. And not donors. A woman.
“I have a date,” he says matter-of-factly
, standing up and straightening his cuffs.
“An actual date? You actually know her name?”
“Ha ha, motherfucker. Yes, I know her name.”
“Do I know her?” I don’t know why I ask, considering I’m keeping my share of secrets from him, but curiosity is getting the best of me.
Trevor turns away from me to put on his jacket. “No. No one you know. Met her at a bar. We clicked.”
His response shocks me a bit. Not because he didn’t tell me her name. Normally, if Trevor is seeing someone he’s willing to see naked multiple times, he usually doesn’t hold back on the details.
But considering I’m getting to the point where I’m not sure if I remember what sex is, I don’t ask for elaboration.
“Well, I’m not going to keep you here so I can continue unloading my fuckup of a marriage on you. Get out of here. Let me live vicariously through you.”
He laughs as we walk out of his office. “Garrett, seriously, man. I feel horrible about you and Annika. Next week, go grab a beer? Maybe I can find you a rebound?”
“I’ll take you up on the beer. I don’t know if I’m ready for the rebound.”
Trevor shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see the day that Garrett Dixon turns down the chance for a piece of ass.”
Neither did I.
Neither. Did. I.
Chapter Twenty
Garrett
Garrett: What are you doing Sunday afternoon?
Paige: I have an exciting day of prepping kindergarten projects for the week.
Garrett: What!? You aren’t making the world a better place by donating your time at the local spaghetti dinner to benefit those affected by the inch of snow we got last week?
Paige: You, sir, are not funny. Besides, they already had enough volunteers.
Garrett: Is there really…
Paige: You’ll never know now, will you…
Garrett: What happened to my dear, sweet kindergarten teacher friend who would never dare make fun of a man who almost died.
Paige: She’s gone. She’s been replaced by someone who is tired of hearing horrible pickup lines.
Garrett: It’s not my fault you took me to a clothing drive. How was I supposed to keep the line about being boyfriend material to myself?
Paige: Easy, don’t talk.
Garrett: That’s no fun.
Paige: Is there a reason you texted me?
Garrett: There was. Now I don’t know if I want to ask you to help out. Even though I think it’s right up your alley.
Paige: Oh really? You know what’s up my alley?
Garrett: I would just like to point out that right now would be a perfect time for me to make an inappropriate joke about me and your alley. But I’m not. Look at me. I am growing.
Paige: *eyeroll emoji*
Garrett: You don’t appreciate my humor. But I do know your alley (see, I resisted again!). You would not only be doing me a huge favor, you’d be helping out Boomer and Kelly. And did I mention it’s a benefit for a cancer charity?
Paige: Dang you. You do know my alley. What do I need to do?
Garrett: First, I really need you to tell me why you don’t curse. Damn isn’t that bad. Second, I need you to meet me at Kelly’s boutique tomorrow after school. I’ll explain everything then.
Paige: What are you getting me into, Garrett Dixon?
That was how I got Paige to Kelly’s boutique on Thursday afternoon. Should I have told her the whole truth? Maybe. In my defense, I knew I couldn’t tell her exactly what I was asking her to do over a text message. She’d try to come up with a million reasons why she couldn’t do it, even if it was for charity. I knew once she was here, she wouldn’t say no. Because A: She is too good of a person, and B: You try telling Kelly Hoffman no.
It’s impossible. Believe me, I tried.
I failed.
So did Paige, which is why she’s giving me a death glare as Kelly is telling her about modeling one of her boutique dresses in front of three hundred socialites at a champagne brunch this Sunday.
“Let me get this straight. You want me to… model… a dress… in heels… in front of strangers?” she says it so slow it’s like she’s trying to repeat a foreign language. I’d laugh, but I’m afraid I’d get another one of her mean looks.
I now know why her students listen to her. Underneath her no cursing facade, Miss Blackstone can be scary.
Any other woman I know would love to play dress-up for a day and try their hand at modeling. Hell, Charlie was all about it when I asked her to help. But as I’ve learned, Paige is not like all women. She’s modest. She doesn’t like attention. She barely wears makeup and I doubt she has a standing hair or nail appointment at a high-end salon.
So this? It might not be directly up her alley. But it’s for charity. And, selfishly, I want to see Paige in one of Kelly’s dresses. Specifically, the one Kelly is holding up to her right now that I can tell doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
“I can’t wear this!” Paige shrieks. “Kelly, I’d love to help you in any way I can. I just don’t think you want me…”
Paige’s words trail off as Kelly pushes her to a fitting room.
“You can and you will,” Kelly says, giving Paige a shove before locking her in. “Trust me.”
I laugh as Kelly turns around, a devilish smile on her face.
“Is that how you get Boomer to do things around the house?”
She laughs as she makes sure Paige isn’t going to try to escape the fitting room. “He knows me too well to put up a fight. He knows he has no chance.”
“So I’ve heard. Don’t let him fool you. He loves it when you boss him around.”
“Damn right he does.”
Staying in touch with Boomer and Kelly has been one of the best parts of my post-hospital, try not to be an asshole phase of life. Boomer had to stay a few days past me and we’ve talked regularly since then. I’ve listened to him complain about Kelly being attached to his side since he got out of the hospital. It isn’t the first time he’s been in the hospital, and because of his heart condition, he told me it probably won’t be the last. Kelly knows this, but that still hasn’t stopped her from being a little overprotective. In return, he’s listened to me go on and on about my separation from Annika and rebooting my life, again.
He’s also heard a lot about Paige, though I’ve done my best to make sure I don’t give him the impression that I’m interested in her. Because I’m not. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
As unexpected as Boomer and Kelly were in my life, so was Paige. Yes, when I first met her, she was just my nephew’s attractive teacher. But I was married, not seriously contemplating a divorce, and Charlie was threatening to rip my balls off if I ventured into my old Garrett ways.
Now? I’m separated. Even though I’m not looking for a relationship, I don’t need to feel guilty over my growing attraction to Paige. But it’s more than her blonde hair and blue eyes that draw me to her. I look forward to our conversations. It might be scattered texting, but when I see her name pop up on my screen, I get excited. They have all been around different volunteer opportunities—when I asked her to help me, I didn’t know she would take the job so seriously—but when we talk, I feel… lighter. Better. Like a part of me is healing that I didn’t know was broken.
She makes me want to be a better person. And not just because I want to impress her, but because for the first time in God knows how long, I’m starting to like the person I’m becoming.
I’m not there yet, but I’m getting there. And I have Paige to thank for that.
Which is why I can’t let this cross into anything romantic. I’m not the man she deserves. I’m trying to be. I’m not quite there yet.
“Holy shit! Look at you! You are hot as fuck!”
The voice comes from Charlie, who I didn’t know walked into the boutique, Cullen in tow. Though my nephew doesn’t stay by his mom’s side for very long as he makes a beeline back to the fitti
ng room.
His running only stops when he crashes into Paige’s leg. Her bare leg.
Fuck, how short is that dress?
Paige is standing in front of her fitting room, arms crossed over her stomach like she’s trying to shield herself. Though I don’t know why. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. The gold and silver dress, which is made entirely of sequins, fits like Kelly sewed it especially for her. The deep V in the front doesn’t reveal anything scandalous, yet leaves nothing to the imagination.
In short, she’s fucking gorgeous. And it’s a good thing I’m sitting down.
“Miss Blackstone! Is that you? You aren’t wearing your school clothes. You are so pretty! You look like a princess!”
She is the sexiest princess I have ever seen.
Thank God for my nephew, because his words relax her, as she uncrosses her arms and kneels to his level to talk to him. I can’t help but stare at her, the easy smile she gives him as he compliments her dress and tells her all about his upcoming weekend.
However, the view allows me to see the hint of cleavage coming from the top of her dress. I stand and force myself to look away, not wanting any more inappropriate thoughts going through my head, as well as any involuntary bodily reactions.
Though I realize that might not have been the best thing to do either.
“You know you are allowed to ask her out, right?” Charlie says, teasing me.