Billionaire Bachelors: Garrett

by Anne Marie Winston

  “Because I would never—I couldn’t—”

  “I would want a child if it were to happen.” He turned his head and kissed her temple, soothing her agitation as he realized what was troubling her. “Is it likely?”

  She thought for a moment. “Likely? I suppose it’s possible.” She sighed. “I always promised myself that a child of mine wouldn’t grow up without its father like I did.”

  It was his turn to still. “Why would it?” he asked carefully. “Unlike the guy that fathered you, I’m not married to someone else and I’m not about to run from my responsibilities.” A child…with Ana. A vague shiver of anticipation tightened the muscles of his stomach. He could think of worse fates. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could think of anything he’d like better.

  Then he realized that Ana hadn’t answered him.

  Tightening his arm, he drew her up onto his chest and put his other arm about her as well. “Let’s not get ourselves bent out of shape for no reason, all right?”

  The curtain of her hair shut out the sunlight as she looked down at him and her eyes were dark and mysterious. “All right,” she finally said.

  He ran one hand up the silky expanse of her back and threaded his fingers through her hair, cradling her skull and pulling her head down until their lips met. Though he’d intended it as a kiss of comfort, her instant, wholehearted response brought his body leaping alive again, and he finally had to set her from him with a grimace. “No more sex until I have a chance to get to a store.”

  He felt her body move in silent laughter. “Not…anything?”

  “You little tease.” He rolled, pinning her beneath him. “I’m not taking any more chances on forgetting. Come on. Let’s go to the store.” As he tugged her out of bed behind him, he acknowledged that condoms were a necessity. Now. Making love to Ana was addictive; already he wanted her again. But he didn’t simply want to play games, as she’d intimated. No. When he made love to her, something within him demanded the basic, primitive need to be buried deep inside her.

  But as he tossed her clothes at her, she shook her head. “I need a shower.”

  He grinned. “Why? We’re just going right back to bed as soon as we get home.”

  “But I promised to visit Nola and the twins, remember?” She brushed past him, lithe and lovely in her nakedness, but he put out a hand and caught her wrist. Turning her to him, he took a long survey, drinking in all the fine details he’d missed in the frantic rush to completion earlier. Her hips were slender; her legs long. He already knew that, as he’d known her breasts were full and her arms lightly muscled. What he hadn’t known, however, was the lovely pale rose of the crests of her breasts, the glint of gold in the thatch of hair between her legs, the way her torso nipped in to her waist and flared so gently out to her hips again.

  Ana was staring at him. “What?”

  He smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her face softened. Then, to his dismay, her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.” She tugged her hand free. “I’ll make it fast in the shower.”

  The trip to town was quiet, though not awkward. Garrett didn’t talk much on the way but when she’d climbed into the passenger seat he threaded his fingers through hers and leaned across the console to give her a lingering kiss. Ana didn’t talk, either, half-afraid to damage the new, fragile relationship they shared.

  She had to tell him about her father. Today. She’d tried earlier, honestly tried, but he’d cut her off and once he’d begun to kiss her she’d forgotten all about it. But she knew she needed to get it out into the open. This evening, she would tell him.

  Thinking about her father led to thoughts of her mother. A wave of nostalgia swept over her. What would her mother think of Garrett? She slid a sideways glance across the seat toward him.

  He was watching her.

  Flustered, she looked away again, and he gave a low chuckle. “What are you thinking?”

  “Not the same thing you’re thinking,” she said tartly, and he laughed again. “If you really want to know, I was wondering what my mother would have thought of you.”

  “She would have thought I was handsome and charming,” he said promptly.

  It was her turn to laugh. “And modest.”

  There was a small, comfortable silence between them. Then he said, “Tell me about her.”

  She was warmed by the interest in his voice. “She was a painter. A very, very good one. Her name is well-known in international art circles.” Her voice caught and Garrett squeezed her fingers. When the lump in her throat had eased, she said, “Tell me how your mother met Robin.”

  She saw the smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “It was a setup.”

  “A setup?”

  He flashed her a grin. “My mother was a bit on the helpless side. Her skills were limited to being a good hostess and keeping a perfect house. After my father died she was completely over her head. Her friends started introducing her to their friends, hoping that a man would come along to take care of her again.”

  “Did she love Robin?”

  “She adored him.” His voice grew reflective. “I think she was far more in love with him than he ever was with her.”

  “What makes you say that?” Every small snippet of information she could add to her meager store of details about her father were precious, even those regarding his life with the family of which she hadn’t been a part.

  Garrett shrugged. “For a long time, it was just a sense that I had. He was always wonderful to Mother, but there was something…something a little sad in his eyes sometimes.”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “He was such a great guy. Getting him for a stepfather was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

  She was sure that was true and she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb as his voice thickened.

  “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” he confessed. “At least once a day I reach for the phone to call him before I remember that he won’t be there.”

  Her own throat was too tight to speak. All she could do was stroke his hand in wordless sympathy.

  They didn’t talk again after that until they reached town, and she was content to sit beside him with his hand enclosing hers. It felt right with him, and she supposed that Robin’s plan to throw them together had worked in that regard. Living in the same small space had accustomed them to each other’s quirks and routines and given them a level of comfort they’d never have known under other circumstances.

  At home again after picking up his truck and stopping by the hospital, Garrett hurried her through the door, then tossed their purchases on the kitchen counter and turned to take her in his arms. She snuggled against him, loving the solid feel of his big body, the warmth of his arms around her, the perfect fit of her head in the crook of his neck.

  “Want to go for a canoe ride?” he said against her ear.

  She shivered as his lips found the delicate shell and he bit down gently on her earlobe. “Th-that would be nice.”

  “Yeah.” But he made no move to release her. Against her belly, she could feel the rising length of his desire and her breath grew short as her body softened and tingled. She slowly rubbed herself back and forth over him the slightest bit, brushing her sensitive nipples across the hard planes of his chest.

  Garrett lifted a hand and circled her throat, tipping her chin up with his thumb. He bent, covering her mouth with his in a long, languid kiss as his hand slipped down to shape and stroke her breast, tugging at the tender peak until she was writhing in his arms.

  “I think,” he murmured against her mouth, “that the lake will have to wait.”

  She fumbled blindly along the edge of the counter with one hand until she found the bag from the store. Withdrawing the box of protection he’d purchased, she held it as he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and into her room, where he lay her on the bed. It took him only moments to methodically strip away her garments and then
his.

  She opened her arms to welcome him, sighing with relief when his full weight came down atop her. “Oh, Garrett,” she whispered, “I lo—” Then she stopped, shocked by the words that had nearly escaped. I love you.

  “Hmm?” He was kissing a path down her neck and across her collarbone and she shivered as his beard-roughened skin dragged over her.

  “I like the way you do that,” she mumbled, but her brain was still reeling at the near-slip. Although she wasn’t sure, she suspected that Garrett still wasn’t ready to admit to anything deeper than a physical attraction. But once he knew about her father…then, she hoped, he would be able to see that what they shared could be permanent.

  The next three days were idyllic, if he didn’t think about the fact that they were about to end. On the afternoon before they were to leave, they’d spent the day packing up everything nonessential and putting dustcovers over the furniture in preparation for the long winter when the cottage would stand alone in the snow.

  But after they’d cleaned and put away the deck furniture, Garrett reached out and tossed her up over his shoulder as he headed inside.

  “Garrett!” Laughing, Ana pounded her small fists on his back. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking my woman to bed.”

  “Your woman? Feeling a little primitive today, are we?” She gasped as he let her bounce onto the mattress, then followed her down before she could wriggle away.

  “Feeling a little primitive every day,” he corrected, fastening his teeth lightly on her earlobe and flicking his tongue along the tender rim. “You belong to me and I intend to make sure you don’t forget it.” Then, as if he’d realized just how he sounded, he dropped his head and kissed her, a slow, lingering mating of lips and tongues that roused her sluggish pulse even as his words roused the love hidden in her heart. She wrapped her arms around his muscled shoulders and pressed herself to him, offering her love in the only way she would allow herself, and within moments, they were naked and rolling together across the wide bed.

  More than an hour later, a rumble of thunder disturbed their lethargic contentment.

  Garrett turned his head and looked toward the window that faced out over the lake. “Looks like we’re in for a storm.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Ana pressed an openmouthed kiss to his bare chest. “The weather service called for thunderstorms all along the coast this evening.”

  He sighed. “I’d better go down and bring the canoe onto the beach. If the lake gets rough, it’s too fragile to be slammed against the dock.”

  She made a small moue of discontent but obediently sat up and reached for the closest garment at hand, which happened to be his T-shirt. “I’ll close all the windows and stack the deck chairs.”

  Together they walked down the stairs. Ana went out onto the deck while he moved on through the kitchen. A moment later, he appeared again, heading down the path toward the dock. As he walked, he turned and called to her, “The back door was open. I must not have closed it firmly when we came in.”

  She couldn’t prevent the smug smile that spread across her face as she surveyed him. All he wore were his pants and the muscles in his chest and arms rippled as he gestured. “Guess you had other things on your mind.”

  He grinned in return. “Guess I did.” Then his grin faded. “You’d better check on the cat. I doubt she got out, but just in case…”

  Roadkill. She felt her own good mood flee. The cat needed medication twice a day to ward off the seizures she suffered. Without it, her brain would succumb to the frightening fits more and more frequently. Roadkill would probably die if she were left on her own now.

  She checked every room, every corner, every nook and cranny where she thought the cat might be likely to hide. She liked small spaces, and had been known to squeeze under low chairs and into the picnic basket in the pantry. But she wasn’t anywhere.

  Garrett came in the door just as she was out of ideas, and she turned to him fearfully. “I can’t find her anywhere. I think she might have gotten out.”

  “Are you sure she isn’t here?” He moved past her to the counter and took out a couple of tins of cat food. “Let’s open this and wave it around. If she hears the top pop or smells it, she’ll come running.”

  Ana nodded, reassured by his calm confidence. “Okay.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “If she comes, she’s getting both cans at once.”

  He smiled, placing one large hand on her shoulder and massaging briefly. “You take the upstairs. I’ll check down here.”

  She moved quickly to obey, but after a few minutes of futile calling and letting the noxious odor of canned cat food waft through the house, she slowly came down the stairs, feeling tears rising despite her best efforts. “She isn’t here, is she?” she asked, biting down hard on her lip to keep it from quavering.

  He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “It doesn’t look like it. She must have sneaked out that door.” He set down the cat food on the counter in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I should have made sure that door was closed.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” She tried to smile. “Neither one of us was thinking about the door.”

  His expression softened. “No,” he said. “We weren’t.”

  The sudden sound of rain hissing against the windows interrupted him as the storm unleashed a deluge that pounded down on the cottage and the pines and birches surrounding it. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped almost simultaneously, making her jump. Garrett gathered her close.

  “Look,” he said. “If she is out there, she’s probably scared silly and will be thrilled to see you. Get your keys. You can drive down the lane in the car and call her from the window.”

  “What will you be doing?” She was already moving toward the hook that held the car keys.

  “I’ll check around the outside of the cabin.” As she shrugged into a rain slicker and prepared to make the dash to her car, he took her by the elbow and held her back for a moment. “Promise me,” he said intensely, “that you won’t get out of the car. These storms can be dangerous.”

  “You’re going out in it,” she said.

  “One of us has to. There’s no sense in both of us taking unnecessary chances.”

  She hesitated. “I’m afraid I’ll see her and she won’t come.”

  He shoved one of the open cans of cat food into her free hand. “She’ll come. Stay in the car.”

  Reluctantly she nodded. “All right.” Then she went into his arms and kissed him quickly. “Please be careful.”

  Eight

  Garrett waited until the driving rain obscured her taillights as Ana drove out the lane. Then he took the other can of food, grabbed a flashlight and stepped out onto the porch, taking a deep breath. The rain was still drumming down with stinging force. There was another flash of lightning, but this time the thunder was delayed by several seconds, indicating that the storm was no longer directly overhead.

  Where would the cat have gone? He looked around. It hadn’t been raining when she’d gone out, so she might have moved some distance away from the cottage, but he’d bet she’d found cover once the full force of the storm hit.

  He plunged off the porch into the pouring rain. First he circled the cabin, calling the cat as he checked all the spaces around the foundation and under the porches where a small animal might hide. As he knelt to shine the light into the recesses of the lean-to where he stored split logs, he hoped that skunks didn’t like cat food. Unfortunately—or fortunately, he thought wryly—nothing of any species appeared to be hiding there.

  As he approached the cove, he crunched over the gravel, heading for the far end of the beach. But as he drew abreast of the canoe he’d overturned above the waterline only minutes before the storm started, he thought he heard a sound. A cat sound.

  He stopped in his tracks. Pivoting, he shone the beam of the flashlight beneath the canoe. It reflected eerie light from a pair of close-set eyes. Cat eyes.

  Garrett closed his own eyes in
relief. “Roadkill? Come here, you ungrateful cat.”

  A plaintive meow answered him clearly through the diminishing patter of the rain, but the eyes didn’t move.

  He sighed. Kneeling, he shoved the tin of cat food right to the edge of the canoe. “Come here, you moronic critter,” he said in what he hoped was a loving tone. “You’re worrying your pretty mistress to death.”

  Roadkill meowed again, and then the eyes moved. He moved just as fast, pulling the food out of reach, out into the open. His other hand hovered just above the opening where the cat would have to emerge.

  And he waited.

  The eyes blinked, then moved again, slowly. Inch by incremental inch, the small tiger cat came slinking out from beneath the canoe on her belly. She looked completely spooked, her eyes wild and dark, and he could see it wouldn’t take much to send her running into the unfamiliar terrain again. He kept a firm hand on the can, unmoving, and eventually she decided she wanted the food more than she feared his presence. As she settled down to her feast, he put a large, firm hand on the back of her neck and took a fistful of cat scruff.

  Roadkill froze. Quickly he pulled her up against his chest and shoved the cat food beneath her nose as she began to struggle. “Here—ouch! Dammit, cat—eat!”

  Apparently realizing that her days of freedom were at an end, she relaxed in his arms and buried her face in the can of food he offered.

  He looked down. Two furrows of cat scratches oozed blood just below his left collarbone. “I should have let you go,” he grumbled to the little animal as he climbed the path. “You’re a—”

  “You found her!” Ana was coming down the wide steps above the house. “Oh, Garrett, where was she? I can’t believe she came to you!”

  “She didn’t exactly come to me,” he said ruefully as she reached them and lifted the cat from his arms. “She was a lot more excited about the food.”

  Ana preceded him into the house, cooing and cuddling the little ingrate, who streaked out of the room and up the steps to the second floor the moment Ana set her down. They both laughed, and Ana turned to him with a shining face and launched herself into his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”