by Crowe, Liz
“Garrett? I have a Jeanine on line one. She seems pretty intent on talking to you. I tried to tell her,” Garrett held up a hand.
“It’s okay. It’s my ex-wife. Shut the door would you please? This might take a while.” He noted the shocked look on her face. At least he still had the ability to surprise a few people.
“What?” He barked into the phone. “I thought we agreed all conversations occurred between attorneys.”
Lori took a deep breath and walked into the outer office where Mrs. Anderson guarded Garrett like a bulldog. The older woman smiled at her but put her finger to her lips and indicated with a jerk of her chin that Garret was busy behind the closed door. Lori squared her shoulders and marched past the desk, realizing that not that long ago, she would never even have considered such a move.
“She did what?” Garrett’s raised voice behind the door made her stop. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Lori frowned. His tone was strange, something between furious and agonized. Mrs. Anderson shook her head, but Lori put her ear closer to the door.
“Do you need me to come down?” He laughed, and the sound sent a bizarre thrill of something she’d later identify as jealousy through her so sharp she gasped. But she had come here with one thing in mind, and wouldn’t be deterred. “Okay, but listen, tell your mom, I mean, well, let everyone know how truly sorry I am, Jeannie.”
Lori frowned. The name he wouldn’t tell her. She knew it had to be. The beautiful, petite virginal southern belle he’d married. “Okay, bye.” His voice stayed soft. Lori pushed open the door before she lost her nerve.
“Lori!” he looked surprised, rattled, very unlike himself. She gulped. He was so handsome, and he loved her. Why in the hell did she doubt him? She perched on the edge of his desk. All too recent memories of the other—the dark to Garrett’s light, the temptation of wrong instead of right—tore through her as cleanly as a knife. She shut her eyes to Eli, opened them to the man she wanted to love.
“I have an idea.” She spoke, but he kept his face closed. She stood and stuck her head around the corner. “Mrs. Anderson, my dad needed you for something. His assistant is out sick. Can you go? Thanks.” She closed the door, gave herself a few seconds to rally her courage, then turned. “So, about my idea.” She walked to him, put a hand on his face, ran her thumb over his lips. He tried to shift away, but she took his chair and turned it so he faced her. She propped her hands on the chair arms and leaned in to cover his lips, forcing them apart. He returned the kiss after a few seconds of resistance.
Then she stood, flipped the blinds closed on his single window and unzipped her jeans. He watched, arms crossed, staying quiet as she slid them down her hips, wiggling a little more than was probably necessary. But, she caught the spark in his eye and felt encouraged. She glided over, straddled him, pressed down on the increasingly hard bulge under his trousers. Capturing his lips again, she took charge and he let her. She loosened and released his tie, unbuttoned his shirt so she could slide her hand down his skin, flick at his nipples.
He stayed silent, which was unnerving but his body kept responding, speaking for him. Never taking her eyes from his she slid his zipper down, then slipped her body down over him. He clutched her hips and ground against her his eyes darkening, breath coming in gasps. Reaching up to grab her hair, exposing her neck, he leaned into her as she moved up and down his length. The room dimmed and her ears started humming with a slow-moving, intense release.
“Shit.” He grunted, closed his eyes, and shoved into her. He came quick and hard, spilling inside her, warm and satisfying. She clutched his shoulders and joined him, biting her lip to keep from making any more noise. She collapsed onto his chest, felt his hands on her back, his lips on her hair as their breathing calmed. She stood and tugged her jeans back up, zipped him into his trousers and re-buttoned his shirt. They still hadn’t said a word.
She put her hands back on the chair arms. “Come up north with me, Garrett.”
He pulled his tie back into place, wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I thought you had to work.”
“I don’t. I just said that because…” She bit her lip, trying to find words for her knee-jerk lie earlier.
“Huh, well, maybe I’m busy now.” He stood, forcing her to move out of his way. “Thanks for the fuck. Nice touch.”
She panicked. Had she screwed this up needing to resist his constant planning so much she’d finally pushed him away one time too many? She walked over to him, ran her hands across his shoulders and kissed his damp neck, trying to rally.
“Well, I’m leaving in about an hour. Gonna open up the cabin in Manistee. I think you should come too.” He turned, his eyes hard. “Unless you need to go somewhere else that is.” She stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest, line in the sand officially drawn.
“Oh, that. No. My presence isn’t required at my ex-father-in-law’s funeral. But, she, well,” he shrugged, stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. The look of innocent confusion on his face made Lori smile and wrap her arms around him.
“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m sure she needed to hear your voice. I know I would. You are just that kind of guy.” He pressed his lips to her hair.
“And what kind of guy is that?”
“Just about perfect. Now, this is your chance, Hunter. Let go your inner spontaneous beast, drop what you’re doing, and come with me. I promise to make it worth your while,” She palmed his softening cock.
“Fine. I’ll be spontaneous but just this once and only because you asked me so nicely.” He cupped her breast, bit her lower lip and smacked her ass as she turned to go. Lori’s heart swelled with something she didn’t want to identify. Then, just as suddenly, a darkness settled over her brain.
Garrett, Fred Sullivan, Eli with his damning photos and accusations. She shook her head. That’s why she initiated this; came to his office intent on seducing him, making him let go of some of his stuffiness and control. They would have to talk once she got him away from here.
“Pick you up at your place at four. Be ready!” She waved over her shoulder, smiled at Mrs. Anderson who’d returned and had lifted an eyebrow at her boss’ newly disheveled state.
Chapter Nine
Lori tried not to initiate too much conversation at dinner that night. Afraid her tone would betray her pounding heart, she ate, nodded where appropriate, and cleared the table. Garrett stayed seated, his mind obviously elsewhere, sipping wine and pecking at his laptop, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Once the dishes were done and stacked, all possible surfaces wiped down she’d done everything she could think of to stall. She put her elbows on the small counter top and observed him.
He kept frowning at the screen, typing, reading more as he sipped wine. His jaw clenched a few times; the emerald hue of his eyes got darker. When his shoulders stiffened and he sat back, an incredulous look on his face, her heart stuttered. He was such an incredible man, even when obviously pissed off about something. She stood. “What’s wrong?” She called out, pretending just to have noticed his displeasure. “I told you not to bring that damn laptop.” This was not going how she’d wanted. It had even started badly. Some crisis had emerged late in the day, and they hadn’t gotten away until nearly six which meant bad traffic. They both were snappish and irritable by the time she unlocked the cabin door.
“Nothing.”
Alarm bells started ringing in her head. She forced herself to stay calm as she sat back down at the table. “Really. You look like somebody just ran over your dog. What’s up?”
He glanced up from the screen with a look that sent a spike of fear into her gut. Could he know about her ill-advised encounters with Eli? If he asked her, what in the hell would she say to him?
“Sorry, babe. It’s nothing.” He stood and stretched, tugging her up with him. His strong body next to hers, his familiar touch and smell relaxed her as quickly as if he’d said a secret word. She put her arms around his waist.
“Take me to bed, “she whi
spered into the clean starchy shirt front. That is what she wanted and what she needed. The connection with him made her feel the safest. She slid her hands down, clutched his firm ass as he lowered his lips to hers, shutting out the worry, the stress, filling her with nothing but pure joy.
Garrett sighed as Lori released him and slid down to nestle in the crook of his arm. He kissed her hair and tried to let go of the roiling tension he’d been nursing for the last week. The orgasm had helped clear his head and for that he was grateful, but words kept popping up behind his eyes.
Eli Buchannan—recruited by Cooperville, one of Brockton’s biggest regional competitors. Eli and Lori—rumors, innuendo and the evidence he’d seen with his own eyes about a week ago when he dropped down to the brewery floor looking to see if he could snag Lori for an early lunch.
That day he’d rounded the corner headed back to the glassed-in office and stopped dead in his tracks. On the surface, nothing was inappropriate. Lori sat at one of the empty desks across from their diva star of a brewmaster, feet up, head thrown back with laughter. Buchanan mirrored her, his feet nearly touching hers on the other side of the workspace. He had his usual, cynical smile fixed in place but his gaze held a look Garrett recognized immediately. He stepped back into the shadow of a fermentation vessel and watched as the man leaned forward and tapped Lori’s foot with his.
Garrett had continued to watch, frozen in place when the man stood to his impressive six foot plus and walked around behind her, put his hand on her shoulders. Garrett recalled balling his hands into fists, jealous rage boiling in his brain. He wasn’t about to stand there and watch that asshole seduce his woman. So he’d stepped into the light, took the final few steps to the open door and entered. Bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty. He’d merely looked up and met his stare, as Garrett tried to put everything he had into one, hard glare. While Garrett watched, the other man even had the nerve to brush Lori’s cheek with a light kiss.
“Your brave knight approacheth, fair lady.” He’d said.
She’d jumped, dropped her feet to the floor and stood, something in her eyes Garrett simply did not wish to acknowledge. He had literally pulled her away, out of the other guy’s orbit, grateful that she only had another few weeks to work so closely with him. Garrett knew obsession when he saw it, and Buchanan’s reputation as a bull in a china shop with regard to women, seducing, taking, and leaving even those who were married, preceded him.
Garrett had repeatedly played that scene in his head, berating himself. She had to work with the guy, and he trusted her. He had to now because he’d lost his heart to her months ago. It was trust or go insane with jealousy, and he had no time for that. She ran her hand down his bare chest, drawing a finger through the light hair below his navel then propped herself up on an elbow and turned his face to hers.
“Garrett, why are you meeting with Fred Sullivan?”
He flinched as his brain shifted gears from jealous indignation to nervous guilt. But he had nothing to be guilty about. He cleared his throat, tried to sound nonchalant. “Because he’s interested in investing, but you would know that, so why ask?” He laced his fingers through hers, brought her hand to his lips.
“He’s a fucking predator. Surely you would know that?” He sensed her tense against him as she kept talking, words spilling from her as if pent up, held back for a while. “I don’t want him anywhere near my company and neither would Dad. So, why are you, our general manager, having lunch with the guy?”
Garrett tried to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. “Just a simple lunch, Lori, nothing more or less, his idea, not mine. But I have to admit I’m a little worried.”
She pulled her hand out of his and rolled onto her back, pulling the light cover over her nudity. He propped himself up this time, ran a finger down her face.
“No wonder you were so quiet tonight.”
She frowned and he put his finger between her eyes, rubbing away the worry line she’d developed there. She kept her eyes on the ceiling as she spoke. “Worried about what exactly?”
Garrett kissed her shoulder trying to keep his tone light. “You guys brought me in for a lot of reasons — create efficiencies of scale, streamline logistics, analyze sales, manage expansion, all of that. So, in doing all of that, I’ve discovered that the company has been hemorrhaging money for about six years now.” She turned to him, disbelief in her stare. “I mean, it’s manageable, trackable; no one is stealing from you. But your rate of necessary growth—all the new brewing equipment, the fancy filtration, the ingredients, all of it plus the debt service on that huge fucking warehouse—it’s not supported by the necessary increase in profits. Your sales are flat, to be honest, and have been for the last ten years while everyone around you is skyrocketing off the charts. I don’t know why, but I do know that you can’t go on like that and remain viable.” She rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed, rubbing her arms, her shoulders hunched. He touched the small of her back, trying to absorb some of her tension. “I’m merely keeping Brockton’s options open, in case you need a cash influx, which, if you keep tracking for the next year or two the same way, you will need a big one.”
“But I just spent six months in ordering. We can hardly keep up. How does that translate to flat sales?” Garrett got up and pulled on a pair of shorts then came around the bed to sit beside her.
“It’s a bigger problem honey. Your dad jumped into expansion too quickly I think, but it’s okay. I’m gonna fix it.” She jerked away from him so violently, he nearly fell over into the empty space she’d vacated. “What did I say?” he stared at her, honestly confused.
“Damn it, Garrett, you are not going to fix it by giving a chunk of my company away to a fucking macro brewing consortium. I won’t stand for it.” She stomped into the bathroom, then emerged wearing yoga pants and a sports bra. “You can’t go behind our backs like this.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Lori. Are you not listening to me? I’m not working with the guy, but he’s one of the smartest men around in this business, and he’s already read the tea leaves. He knows that Brockton is headed for a fall if something isn’t done fairly drastically to either change the sales slump or stop fucking spending money. Jesus!” He stood, let anger at her recalcitrance and his own jealousy speak next. “Besides, you’ve been so busy in the brewery getting backrubs from that prima donna, you’ve lost touch with the real part of this business. You know? The part where we are trying to make money.” She glared at him then walked out of the room. He followed her, stopping at doorway. “He’s leaving anyway, you realize that, right?” The look on her face told him all he needed to know. “Pompous ass can’t stay in one place for too long. It’s not in his nature. You’d best remember that for more reasons than one.”
Lori’s ears buzzed. Her face burned. Stomping into the kitchen she stared around wildly wishing there was something she could do, some small disorganization she could toss into his life that would make a difference. But, no. Garrett Hunter’s world was perfectly ordered. He had all the answers for himself and for everyone around him.
“I’m going for a walk,” she shouted up the steps. “I’ll talk to you later.” Her heart ached, part of her terrified at being alone after all this together time with him. He made her feel safe, loved. And yet utterly frustrated with his officious constant cleaning and organization.
She sat a minute in the swing under the huge tree that held some of her fondest childhood memories. Her better self started to lecture: He has never once intimated that you are at fault because you aren’t as organized as he is. He loves you the way you are. Why can’t you just accept him the way he is? You keep this up, keep pushing him away and you are gonna be alone again. Alone with your stupid obsession over that damn Eli.
Of course she realized the company had been hemorrhaging money. She understood a profit and loss statement. She knew the significance of cash flows for a company that had grown fast but also remained fairly small. But she
trusted her father implicitly. And he had sorted it out by hiring a suit-wearing, handsome guy with a shiny MBA. Which is exactly what was happening. She stood up, stretching her legs. A touch on her shoulder made her yelp in surprise.
The abject regret on Garrett’s face made her knees shake. Did she love him? Was that what this was — this bizarre combination of terrified and exhilarated, needing to see him yet feeling overwhelmed by his presence? He reached in and clutched the back of her neck, pulled her close and kissed her, breaking the contact just as she felt her body give way. His voice was lower than usual. “Come back inside.”
You do love him, Lori. Why won’t you say it? Why do you keep making him say it? She glared at him a minute, leaned back against the rough tree trunk. In seconds, he had her in his arms, mouth slanted over hers, tongue forced between her lips. She started to pull away, to protest. He fisted one hand in her hair, the other gripped her ass, held her close, forced her to feel his need. As the weak springtime sun set, he stared at her, the deep green of his eyes faded along with the light. “Don’t go,” he whispered.
He bit her ear, kissed his way down her neck making her shiver. Whimpering sounds escaped her throat as a river of need coursed through her entire body. She shifted, felt eager hands on her waist, sensed his urgency and met it with her own. When he plunged a hand down her panties, she spread her legs wanting nothing more than for this, this man, right now. A small voice reminded that they should talk. Should skip the sex for one night and really discuss what was happening between them. But a louder voice interrupted that one, effectively silencing it when he shoved her shirt up and sucked her nipple between his lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, between gasping for breath. “Oh, Jesus, Garrett,” She clutched his hair, captured his lips as he stroked her to not one but two blinding back-to-back orgasms. He lifted his face from her breasts. She got a good look at his eyes, now that her vision had adjusted to the gloom. But instead of responding with words, as she knew she should, she reached down to free his cock from the shorts he’d thrown on in his haste to find her. To bring her back from the precipice, back to his arms.