I held out my hand, and Val put the box in it before I deposited it into my purse.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Eventually,” I said. “Tell him thank you. I have to get going.”
My drive home was quiet, but I was excited to get home and show him the quilt Valerie gave me. I wanted to tell him all about the concerts my father enjoyed, including a few we attended together, and the stories he told me. But my excitement was short-lived.
The apartment was dark when I stepped inside. The television was on, but the volume was muted.
“Garrett?” I called out hesitantly.
I set the bag down just inside the door and walked farther into the living space. Garrett was stretched out across the couch, his eyes closed tightly. He twitched and moaned in his sleep, and immediately, my heart started to race. Sleep had seemed to be elusive since he’d returned, probably since he’d been released from captivity. I hated to disturb him for even a minute, but the guttural moan that escaped his lips propelled me forward.
My hand barely touched his shoulder when Garrett’s eyes flew open, and he shot up, his hand curling around my neck. He pressed me against the closest wall, all the while staring at me with blank eyes. I clawed at his forearm, trying to disentangle myself from his grip.
“Garrett, stop,” I choked out. “Let go.”
His normally deep, soulful brown eyes were almost cloudy with whatever memories still lingered from his dream. I gasped for breath as I worked to pry his fingers away, while coaxing him to let go. Finally, the fog disappeared, and his hand fell away instantly as he stepped back until his knees hit the sofa and he tumbled into it.
“Oh god, Cami,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Garrett held out his hands in front of him and stared at them, his eyes glassy with tears tumbling one after the other down his cheeks until his large, powerful body was wracked with sobs. My hands pressed absently at the tender flesh along my throat as I breathed fresh air deeply into my lungs.
“What have I done?” Garrett muttered. “What have I done?”
“You didn’t do anything,” I croaked. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I could have killed you,” he whispered. He stared at his hands a moment longer before pushing to his feet. He advanced toward me but stopped short when he and I both realized I had pressed myself up against the wall with my hands defensively raised.
For the first time, I feared Garrett. And he knew it. So he bolted.
Looking for him was pointless. He needed to clear his head in his own way, so I pulled out the quilt Valerie gave me and snagged Palmer’s unopened present from my purse. With the glow of the television casting an eerie light in the living room, I wrapped myself tightly in happy memories and carefully untied the perfect white satin bow. Nestled on a bed of white fluff was a silver bracelet with a sailboat charm. Tucked inside the lid was a small folded note.
Cami, our friendship started out on the high seas of Wollochet Bay. Please don’t let those memories drift away. Love, Palmer.
I returned the note and the bracelet back to the box and set it on a side table. My friendship with Palmer was another link to my father. He and his dad, Tim, would go out on my dad’s boat with us during the summer, and we’d sail around the bay before returning home. Afterward, we’d build a huge bonfire on the beach and roast marshmallows for decadent s’mores. I treasured those memories, but Palmer had forced me to choose between his friendship and my love for Garrett. And that couldn’t easily be forgiven.
Cocooned inside my new quilt, I spread out along the couch and waited for Garrett to return.
Strong hands on my thighs stirred me awake, and I turned to face Garrett, who was on his knees beside me. His eyes were rimmed with red, and tears still streamed slowly down his cheeks. I cupped his face between my hands and brushed his tears away with the pads of my thumbs.
“That’s never happened before,” he choked out. “I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry, Cami.”
“It’s okay, Garrett.”
“No,” he insisted. “It’s not, but I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I called Captain Dennison as soon as I left.”
“Is that the psychologist on base?”
He nodded. “Yes. He told me that readjusting can trigger nightmares, but the longer I’m home, the better it will get.”
I did my best to smile through my own concern. “That’s good.”
“Come with me,” he commanded with a whisper.
Wordlessly, I untangled myself from the quilt, slipped my hand into the one he offered me and followed him into the dark bedroom. Garrett turned me, and his fingers gripped the edge of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head. He tossed it aside before his fingers went to the waistband of my shorts, and with a flick of his fingers, the button was worked free and the garment pooled at my feet. I stepped out of them and waited for the next order.
Garrett’s eyes never left me as he undressed himself, his focus entirely on me, rather than what we were inevitably going to do. He took one step forward, and reflexively, I stepped backward. His eyes shut tight, and he turned away, his jaw tight.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled, but the hurt in his voice was evident.
“I know,” I said softly.
“Take off your bra and panties,” he commanded me before removing his own black boxer briefs. I reached behind my back and unhooked the clasp of my bra, letting the straps slide down my arms until I tossed it aside. When my panties were discarded, we stood in front of each other completely bare. That was what Garrett wanted. That was what we needed. It wasn’t enough that we were reunited; we were still hiding parts of ourselves, and until every wound was reopened and exposed, we’d never be able to move on with the future we dreamed of for an entire year.
Garrett placed a gentle hand on my chest, over where my heart thundered loudly. With a firm press of his hand, I fell easily onto the bed. Garrett stood perched above me, his nostrils flared and his breath shallow until he placed a knee on the edge of the bed. A war waged inside Garrett; he struggled to stay in control, but his desire to lose himself completely was evident in the fire burning deep in his gaze.
Words weren’t needed at this moment; words would have spoiled everything, so I let him take what he needed from me. He placed light kisses on my bare stomach before moving to the apex of my thighs. I parted for him as he teased his lips across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh until I felt the first brush of his tongue along my sensitive center.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips, encouraging him to continue. I writhed against his wicked tongue and talented mouth until he left me shaking with the slow burn of an orgasm. The satisfied glint in his eye was the only emotion he dared to show me as he placed his hands on my thighs and spread them wide.
“This is going to hurt,” he said with a hollow voice. Was he talking to me or himself?
He released my thighs once he was sure they would remain in place and gripped his cock tightly in his fist, guiding the tip right to the very edge of my core. With a grunt, he thrust inside and rooted himself deep inside me.
I gasped from the momentary discomfort and from the feeling of complete fullness. That moment of displeasure was worth the feeling of perfection when we were together.
Garrett gripped my hips tightly, painfully, as he set a demanding and powerful rhythm. His jaw was set tight, and his eyes were glued to my body as sweat poured down his brow.
“Garrett,” I panted, but he didn’t hear me. Garrett was lost in his thoughts, his eyes black instead of a warm golden brown.
“No,” he groaned out. “No, no, no, no, no.”
My hands flew up to his cheeks, and I forced him to make eye contact. Garrett stopped for a moment and lifted a hand to wipe at the sweat on his face.
“Christ,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “Fuck.”
I expected him to stop and slow down; to turn this furious fucking in
to something slow and seductive. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my body, holding me against him and renewed his punishing pace. He was fighting an internal battle, and I was his weapon of choice.
“Please forgive me,” Garrett pleaded before he surged forward inside me, emptying himself of everything, including the guilt he seemed to carry around with him. The first unexpected tears fell down his cheeks and landed on my sweat-slickened body. They continued to fall until he collapsed completely, still holding me.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “You asked me to stay safe, and I didn’t. I let you down.”
I moved my hands up his back slowly until they tangled in his hair. I tugged until we were nose to nose, eye to eye. “You didn’t let me down, Garrett. What happened could not have been avoided.”
“I was so scared to tell you,” he whispered.
“You never have to be scared to tell me anything,” I reassured him, smoothing my hands through my hair.
We held each other until Garrett’s emotions calmed, and the tears left on my skin were replaced with kisses. I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Slowly, he withdrew and rolled to the side. He reached out to me and helped me stand before leading me to the bathroom. Wordlessly, Garrett turned on the shower, letting it warm to my desired temperature before leading me inside and underneath the spray.
He ran his hands through my hair, wetting the strands thoroughly before pumping a dollop of shampoo in his hand and working it into my hair. He was gentle and methodic as he completed his task. When he was finished, he sighed and wrapped me in his arms.
“You make the whole world drift away, Cami.” His voice was raspy but soft. “When you’re against me like this, all I can think about is you. I don’t need anything else but you.”
Garrett released me and resumed washing me, pouring out my familiar jasmine-scented body wash into his palm before working it into a lather across my body. With his hands on my body, touching me in a tender and sensual way, it was easy to get aroused. One glance down and I knew Garrett felt the same, but he wasn’t doing this as a prelude to round two. He was doing this as penance. He was making amends for what happened earlier. I accepted his apology readily, and as we stepped out of the shower, it felt like we were finally starting to head in the right direction.
Chapter Ten
Cami
The next morning, Garrett returned to Ft. Lewis while I stayed in bed thinking about all of the secrets I still needed to reveal. Garrett’s revelation that he felt guilt over being imprisoned, over a promise he’d felt obligated to keep was a step in the right direction. But there would be no moving forward if I was stuck in the past too. When Garrett came home from base, an uncomfortable tension I didn’t expect to feel when he returned was there. We were supposed to be tangled up in bed, touching and kissing. Instead, we sat across from each other at my small dining room table, eating Chinese takeout.
“I printed these out today,” I said, handing him two listings in Healdsburg that I found. Garrett glanced at them but said nothing. I picked up the papers and folded them, tucking them under my placemat.
Garrett stood abruptly, grabbing his plate. I watched as he walked into the kitchen and cleared his plate. “I’m really tired, and I have to report to base early,” he announced. “I’m just going to shower and then go to sleep.”
“Okay,” I replied, trying to mask the emotion in my voice. This felt like rejection, and it stung. This was not the reunion I’d fantasized about for the past five months. I cleaned up the dinner dishes robotically, moving through each motion one at a time.
Just tell him, I scolded myself. Tell him everything.
Walking over to the patio doors, I stared out at the reflection of the moon on the waves of the bay. They were tipped in silver as they rolled gently onto the shore. Gripping the handle, I slid the doors open and stepped out into the humid air. Washington was currently experiencing a heat wave, and my skin felt sticky and uncomfortable even at night.
“We’re both holding on to too many secrets.” Garrett’s voice was unexpected and hoarse.
“What?” I turned on my heel and faced him, reaching behind me to grasp the wrought-iron railing.
“Secrets, Cami. They’re coming between us. I know you’re hiding something from me.”
My guilt and shame couldn’t come between us any longer. If I wanted him to reveal the pain of being held captive for weeks, then I needed to admit to the pain I’d felt from losing my father and finding out Garrett had been held captive.
“It was all too much, you know? My father had died, and I was finally in a good place, so I went to visit your family, just to be close to you in a way. Then I found out you were being held captive.” This was one truth I could easily part with. “How much can one person endure?”
Garrett stepped out onto the balcony and kissed my bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “What happened couldn’t have been avoided.”
I followed him back inside, but there was still more to say. Everything unspoken between us created a barrier, and as I curled up next to him that night, I felt like a fraud. I picked what I could handle telling him, not what he needed to hear. Restless, I got up after a few hours and headed to the couch. When I woke a few hours later, a light blanket covered my bare legs and the sound of the front door closing echoed loudly throughout the apartment.
There was zero communication throughout the day except a text message telling me that he was having dinner with one of his superiors. When he came home, it was late, and I was still on the couch. He stared at me long and hard, waiting for me to say something.
“My dad and I listened to a lot of his old records before he died,” I told him. Garrett took this as a good sign and came to sit down beside me. His arm stretched out along the back of the couch, a silent invitation into the safety of his warmth. I scooted closer to him, placing an arm around his middle and my head on his chest. “Those records were the hardest thing to part with after he died. Valerie and I had no idea what to do with them, but we found a record store in Seattle that was willing to buy most of them. I couldn’t part with Neil Young.”
Garrett’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you like Neil Young?”
“Not particularly. But my dad did, a lot.” I wasn’t revealing my deepest and darkest secrets yet, but it felt good to discuss my father. It was freeing to just open up and discuss those last moments of his life, and it gave me the hope that eventually I could confess the ugliness I’d been hiding from Garrett.
Garrett kissed the top of my head, and said, “Come to bed.”
I tried to sleep next to him, but eventually, I found my way back to the couch. Silently, I berated myself. I was so weak, holding these secrets like they were gold. He deserves better, my cruel, rational inner voice said. Garrett deserved all of me, including my honesty. I replayed the moment he collapsed on top of me and confessed his guilt that he’d somehow let me down when he was captured. His unexpected show of emotion had made me love him even more. He was brave and strong and trusted me completely, and here I sat, a coward. I didn’t deserve him.
The next day, while Garrett was on base, I prepared myself to tell him everything. He showed me such tenderness while my conscience put distance between us. I couldn’t let another day go by without telling him everything. It was either come clean or watch our relationship slowly crumble.
The sun had started to set when Garrett returned from Ft. Lewis. He slammed the front door and stood in the foyer, watching me with a crazed, desperate look. “Dammit, Cami. What is going on? I thought we were finally headed in the right direction, but every night, you pull away from me, and it kills me.” There was so much pain in his voice. I opened my mouth, determined to reveal everything, but nothing came out.
It wasn’t hard to see his disappointment. His head dropped, and his shoulders slumped. He shook his head, and then he disappeared into the bedroom.
Scrambling from
the couch, I headed toward the bedroom and watched him fill his duffle bag. My heart pounded wildly. No! No, this was not happening. He couldn’t leave. Finally, I blurted out, “I overdosed.”
Garrett stopped and dropped the T-shirt he held in his hand. My body trembled with the relief of that first confession. “After my father died and after you were captured, I started to hallucinate. I missed you so much, needed you so badly, that my mind started to play tricks, and I wasn’t sleeping. My brain was incapable of turning off, and I was so fucking tired. I took more sleeping pills than what was prescribed and accidentally overdosed.”
He stood there, stunned. His mouth opened and closed several time, like he wanted to say something. Even though I felt relieved to tell him the truth, I feared his disappointment.
“I wasn’t strong,” I admitted, collapsing to my knees. “You asked me to stay strong, and I couldn’t do it.”
Garrett rushed toward me and fell to his knees. “Oh, Cami,” he breathed out, reaching out to gather me in his arms. He cradled me against his chest while I cried big gulping sobs. “I should never have asked you to do that. It was selfish of me.”
I fisted my hands into his shirt and looked up at him. There was something I needed to tell him, something he needed to understand completely. “I didn’t want to die, Garrett. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself in anyway. I need you to understand that.”
He nodded his head and continued his soothing strokes through my hair and down my back. “I believe you.”
We held each other while the bridge between us started to mend. I was reminded of some piece of popular wisdom, “The truth will set you free.” And I was. I felt free from the weight of those dark and heavy moments in my life. Garrett knew the worst of it. What more could I tell him?
“There’s something else you’re not telling me,” he said. I looked up at him, confused. “Palmer.”
Stunned, I wiped my tear-stained cheeks and asked, “What about Palmer?”
Just Like Love (Just Like This Book 2) Page 6