“Da, stop.” I hear Lanie’s sobs before I see her tear-stricken face. “Just stop.” She shakes her head, and my heart breaks.
I hate disappointing her. But Christ, I’ve been doing it for years. Trying to be a father and a mother and lacking in both roles. Grief over Emily makes it that much harder.
I try to scramble off Garrett, but the icing makes it slippery. My hand goes to his broad chest as I try to brace myself to stand. How are his muscles so firm? His hands grasp my hips like he’s trying to steady me.
“Lanie, wait…” I scramble again to get to my daughter. To explain, even though I have no explanation for what just happened.
“Stop fucking moving,” Garrett growls, and it sends confusing signals to my brain.
When Jane holds out her hand, I grab it like a lifeline.
Once I get on my feet, I start after Lanie, but Jane doesn’t let go. “She’ll be fine. I need you to clean up this mess and find me another cake.”
“I can’t believe this.” Zye covers his face with his hands. “My first wedding. And it’s a disaster.” He shakes his head and turns in a complete circle.
The cake is sticky, and I avoid looking at Garrett as I try to wipe it off my now-ruined suit. “It’s fine. Stop being so dramatic.”
That gets me a glare from both Jane and Zye. Isaac is off to the side, trying not to…laugh?
“It’s fine. I have an extra cake. It’ll be like nothing happened.”
“I need to clean up.”
At Garrett’s words, I glance at him, undoing all my good intentions. He’s covered in cake. His face. His hair. His clothes. And he somehow manages to make it look good. Tasty.
Shite.
“Go with Christy. You can get cleaned up and help him with the cake.”
The last thing I need is to be alone with Garrett. “I don’t need any help.”
“Did I ask your opinion? No.” She steps closer and says in a low voice, “Fix whatever issues you have with Garrett. And get me another fucking cake.”
4
GARRETT
Aidyn is dark and menacing,like a thundercloud. With loud booming cracks. And flashes of fire. He stomps out of the building, leaving me to follow like a chastised kid. I hate it. I hate him. But my body feels alive, as if awake for the first time in a while. He doesn’t look back, obviously not caring if I follow him or not. But something about the set of his shoulders makes me think that isn’t true. He’s aware of me. That feeling of being alive intensifies.
Once he reaches his van with the Christy’s Café logo on the side, he strips off his jacket and shirt and wads them up. Then he points those laser eyes at me. I stumble on the last few steps and duck my head, trying to hide my flushed face… I’m not even sure what I’m feeling. Uneasy? Embarrassed? Turned on?Fuck me.
“Don’t you dare get cake on my seats. Strip, Garrett. Now.”
Is it his words? The intense look on his face? The sight of Aidyn Christy in an undershirt, his freckled shoulders bare? He rests his arms on the top of the car as he waits. I glance away from his scowling face, but a musky smell snags my senses and draws my attention to the dark-red hair of his pits. Desire pulses through me, making me dizzy, and I turn away to hide my body’sreaction. What the hell? I had this all under control. This man is off-limits. And he hates me.
“Garrett,” he growls, and fuck, that sound is the last thing I need.
“Hold the fuck on.” I try to sound harsh and not turned on.
I strip off my jacket and my dress shirt. No way am I taking off my pants. Instead, I wipe off the frosting as best I can. Unfortunately, the cake settled in my lap, so wiping at my confused dick with Aidyn glaring at me makes everything worse. Jesus.
“Stop being a diva. Hurry the fuck up.” The slamming of his door alerts me, and I take a calming breath before wadding up my destroyed clothes and folding myself into his vehicle.
“Just drop me off at my hotel. I’ll take an Uber back.”
“Jesus H Christ. You’re not in New York, Garrett.”
He starts the van and pulls onto the main street. I try not to look, but the way his forearms strain as he steers and shifts has me squirming in my seat. It has nothing to do with Aidyn. It’s just been a while since I’ve been with someone. I miss it. The heat of another man’s body. The smell… God, the musky scent that has my dick so hard it’s painful. Add in the growl of his voice. He grunts, interrupting my thoughts. “‘I’ll take an Uber back.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?”
