34. Garrett
Chapter Thirty-Four
GARRETT
H e didn’t wait around to see Emma’s reaction to his too-honest reply. He went to his bedroom before she could say anything else, closing the door behind him.
And just what the hell were you thinking telling the truth? It was the last thing he should have done.
Yeah, Garrett wasn’t a patient man. But he’d known going into this that Emma required very special handling—and a hell of a lot more patience than he’d just displayed.
He had forgotten himself after a frustrating and slightly disgusting night.
Garrett was playing a long game. But Emma had caught him in a moment of weakness, keeping at him with her trademark stubbornness until he snapped.
And now he may have ruined everything, letting on just how much she affected him.
Emma was understandably skittish. And not just about him. About everything. And he didn’t blame her. Imagine having to rebuild your whole life. He couldn’t think of a single person who would trade places with her, not even him.
Except he would have. If he could somehow save her the pain and anguish of not knowing who she was, then yeah. He would rather it had been him hit by that car.
Still riled up, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. He’d managed to stay clean the second time Kyle threw up, but that didn’t matter. Just thinking about it made another shower necessary.
He took care of that in short order and was roughly toweling off when there was a tentative knock at the door.
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten. But the knock came again.
He should have known Emma wasn’t going to let that dance comment go.
“Just a sec,” he called out, pulling out a pair of sweatpants.
“Can you meet me in the living room?” she replied loud enough to be heard through his thick door.
Shit . This night was never going to end, was it?
“Sure,” he yelled back, grateful the entire penthouse was soundproof. He’d hate to think of Rainer and George hearing whatever was happening on this side of the floor.
Garrett slipped on the sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. He’d just get it wet. Grabbing a fresh hand towel, he went out to the living room, trying to rub his hair dry so he wouldn’t have to bust out a blow dryer.
He didn’t notice the candlelight right away.
Emma was standing in the middle of the living room. Her hair was also wet, and she wasn’t wearing her little black dress anymore. She was wearing a nightgown, standing before him in bare feet.
As nightgowns went, it was a simple affair. A sleeveless shallow V-neck that came to her knees. But even simple cuts like this transformed on Emma’s body.
Yeah, every woman in the world should hate her.
Garrett ignored his itchy palms, clearing his throat. “What’s going on?” he asked, gesturing to the romantic lighting.
“I wanted to make tonight up to you.”
He raised his hand, about to tell her she didn’t have to do anything, but she’d already turned away. She ran to the back of the couch, picking up her phone and fiddling with it.
A distinctive jazzy saxophone began to play through his Bluetooth speakers.
He burst out laughing.
Emma stopped the song, frowning. “What? What is it?”
“You chose Kenny G for our first dance.” And he loved it.
Hurt flashed across her expression.
Garrett rushed to her side. “Hey, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I love that you chose Kenny G.”
She rolled her shoulders to dislodge his hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know music. Not the slow stuff.”
“It’s an inspired choice,” he assured her, taking her phone and setting it aside on the nearest table. “You went for one of the classics.”
Emma shrugged. “People are more lenient when you don’t know music as long as you know some of the big names.”
Well, Kenny G was that in certain circles. It also explained her love of Dolly Parton, the Stones, and Cream, whose music he’d heard coming from her room on and off since she’d moved in.
He really should send her back to her room. But Garrett lacked the willpower to turn her away. Instead, he held open his arms in a classic waltz pose. “Shall we dance?”
Emma hesitated for an endless moment. But she took that first step and then another.
Finally, she was in his arms, soft curves pressing against his chest and abs.
Garrett closed his eyes, letting himself feel every luscious inch before canting his hips so his rapidly thickening cock wouldn’t touch her.
He wasn’t going to make it weird. But no force on God’s green earth would make him let Emma go right now.
“I shouldn’t have changed,” she whispered, her breath fanning his collarbone as she looked up at him.
God, he’d forgotten how much shorter she was than him.
“You’re allowed to shower,” he managed, swaying them from side to side.
“But was the dress part of the… ”
Part of the fantasy? Yes, it had been. Until he’d seen her in her nightgown. Now he had a new fantasy.
Emma’s skin felt very hot against him. “Because I’m realizing now, I probably shouldn’t have taken off my bra.”
Garrett groaned. She was killing him. He was close to passing out because all the blood in his body was rushing south so hard and fast.
The saxophone crescendo broke, making him smile despite the discomfort in his pants.
And then Emma melted against him, cuddling his cock against her soft belly.
“ Emmy ,” he groaned.
“Garrett?” she asked, her voice tremulous as he spun her in a slow circle.
“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, a telltale sign but one he didn’t worry about. The stiffness of his cock was a dead giveaway and Emma was pressing against it willingly.
She shuddered, her breath faster as she tilted her chin up, a glazed look in her eyes. “Why?” she breathed.
Unwilling to break the spell, he ran his hands down her back, letting them come to rest on the curve of her ass. “Why what?”
“Why did you really marry me?”