16. SIXTEEN
SIXTEEN
GARRETT
I did, in fact, put a wall of her throw pillows between us when we got into bed. While she assumed it was because I didn’t trust her, I knew it was because I didn’t trust myself. The second her smooth skin brushed up against me in the form of a leg, or an arm, or god forbid her ass, all my resolve would disintegrate.
So, yeah, a wall of pillows it was.
Despite the fluffy barricade between us, I woke to her face mere inches from mine, still sound asleep as she cuddled the throw pillows.
A smile curved on my lips as I took advantage of a Cory completely unguarded. Her features were so relaxed, so at peace, which was something I never saw on her face when she was awake. Even when she was happy and seemingly carefree, there was an undercurrent of cautious hypervigilance and mistrust that had her constantly on edge. But based on everything I saw at her parents’ house, and everything she told me in the driveway, I understood why. DelINKquent Tattoos meant so much to her, not just because it was her dream, but because the two people in her life who should’ve loved her the most—supported her in all her endeavors no matter what they were, and been there for her in the tough moments—would rather see her crash and burn than be happy. She had something to prove, and not just to herself. She didn’t like to let people in, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. But beneath that tough exterior, she was far gentler than she’d have anyone believe.
“You’re staring.” Cory’s sleep-laced voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I reached out and cupped her face, rubbing the pad of my thumb over her cheekbone, and gazing down at her.
“Good morning.” I dropped a kiss to her forehead. The urge to have constant contact with her was overpowering any thought of giving her some personal space to wake up in.
She glanced down at the pillows. “Is it safe to move these now?”
I shook my head. “Afraid not. I’m going to need some caffeine before I let you get any closer.”
She laughed, and I had to fight the desire to reach for my phone and take a video of her in this moment—happy and unencumbered by the day to come.
“Fine, I’ll make the coffee.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stretching her arms up over her head. My eyes darted to the exposed expanse of skin, tattoos peaking out before disappearing beneath her shirt. I wanted to know each and every tattoo that decorated her body. I wanted to know them so intimately that I’d be able to tell a sketch artist and have them draw her precisely.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Any chance you’re a decent cook? My specialties around here are Pop-Tarts, and frozen pizzas.”
“I would love to make us breakfast and save us from your slow, processed death.”
She threw a pillow at me and stood.
I choked on air. “When the hell did you lose your pants?”
She glanced down at herself, as if only just noticing she was in only a t-shirt and underwear, and shrugged. “I don’t like pants and I figured your wall would protect us. Besides, you’re in your underwear.”
I groaned as she walked around the foot of the bed coming fully into view. Hot pink fabric hugged her hips and curved around the globes of her ass before disappearing between them. “My underwear isn’t a glorified scrap of lace.”
She looked down at herself and clucked her tongue. “This is one of my more modest pairs, too. Come on, get out of bed,” She giggled.
I threw my arm over my eyes and muttered a growl. “I’m going to need a minute.”
Her laughter echoed as she padded down the stairs toward the kitchen.
I cursed myself for imposing the “Great Wall of Pillows” as I willed my erection to go down.
** *
Breakfast required a quick trip to the corner store, but once the ingredients were secured, I made quick work of it. And the sounds Cory was making were borderline indecent, as she chewed a mouthful of cinnamon roll pancake.
“If I didn’t see you make these, I’d say you didn’t make them.”
“What? I can’t make good things?”
She shook her head, swallowing another bite. “No, you can, but don’t dudes usually like hearty breakfasts? Like bacon and eggs and all that shit?”
“Maybe, but I’ve got an enormous sweet tooth. If you ask my mom, she’ll tell you that all my teeth are sweet teeth. This is one of my favorite breakfasts she made us as children.”
“What’s your family like?” She stabbed another piece of pancake.
Just thinking of my family made me smile. “Well, my mother is the kindest person you’ll ever meet, but she’s a bit of a spitfire and doesn’t tolerate any bullshit. She found out she had cancer five years ago, but she kicked its ass and somehow made it look easy. It’s been about two and a half years since the doctors declared her in remission—it was around the time of Kinsley and Hayes’s wedding, actually.”
There was a sadness of sorts in Cory’s eyes as she listened to me talk about my mom, and for a moment, I felt bad. Like I was bragging about how great my mom was when hers had, well, something to be desired.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, and stop. She sounds lovely. I’m sorry about the cancer, but I’m glad she beat it. Fuck cancer. ”
I laughed. “Our sentiments exactly.”
“What about your dad?”
“My dad is the hardest working person I know. He was in business at a law firm for a while, but he retired a couple of years ago. Now, he and my mom are berry farmers.”
Cory makes an amused sound, a beautiful smile curving her lips. “Berry farmers?”
“Yup! Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, all of the berries really. They have a stand where they sell quarts, pints, and jams that my mom makes from some of the less aesthetically pleasing ones. It’s actually pretty cute.”
“It sounds like it.”
“He expected a lot out of me and my sisters, but he’s a good guy.”
She leaned back in her chair, patting her toned stomach and staring at her empty plate like she couldn’t believe she cleared it.
“And your sisters? Sorry, I know I’m prying.”
“No, don’t apologize. I like you prying.” And I really did. Maybe we’d reached a turning point in our, whatever this was, and could turn it into something more. I wanted more. Every new piece of information I learned about Cory made my infatuation with her grow stronger, and more reminiscent of obsession. Hayes and Kinsley were right; I was a goner.
“Linnea’s the youngest and pretty much exactly like my mom. She inherited that fifth sense for knowing when somebody needs something, and she’s nice. Too nice, really. I worry about her sometimes, off on her own, but she’s doing great. My other sister, her name is Darcy, she’s . . . actually she’s kind of like you.”
Cory leaned against the island. “Ah, so she’s a bitch?”
I shot her a glare. “No, she’s more reserved, and has a tendency to keep people at arm’s length. But if you’re one of her people, she’d do anything for you. One time, back in high school, she punched Morgan Peters in the face because she’d called Linnea “too fat” to be a cheerleader. Neither of my sisters have ever been fat, but I guess curves meant you couldn’t cheer.”
“What a bitch. I’d punch her too.” Cory’s eyebrows knitted together in disgust.
I chuckled. “Exactly my point. You two would be trouble together.”
Cory got up from her stool, and brought our plates to the sink, before turning back to face me. “Your family sounds amazing.”
I closed the distance between us, and placed my hands on the counter behind her, bracketing her hips. I leaned down to trail kisses up her neck.
“You could meet them any time, you know?” I murmured.
I didn’t expect her to agree, so maybe that’s why when she let a quiet, “I’d love to” slip out, I let shock register across my features.
“Stop! I don’t hate people.”
I didn’t glorify that with a response, but shot her an incredulous look.
“Okay, I don’t hate some people,” She laughed before going quiet and toying with the hem of my shirt. “I don’t know what I’m doing with this, with us, but I . . .”
A moment passed where I didn’t breathe. I didn’t dare move in fear of her not finishing the sentence she started.
Her head tilted back to look me in the eyes. “I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of denying myself anything else when it comes to you. I just want you.”
Her admission hit me straight in the heart, and if there was any doubt remaining about how much of a goner I was, there wasn’t anymore. I was falling for Cory Eastwood.
“Then we’re on the same page,” I murmured before crushing my lips to hers.
She moaned into my mouth and slid her hands up my biceps to the back of my head, her nails digging into my scalp. Desire coursed through me, and I grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against my chest. There was not a doubt in my mind, she knew how badly I wanted her—could feel how hard I was for her from a simple kiss.
“I need—” I was cut off by my phone ringing in my pants pocket. Neither of us moved for a second, and then a smirk curved Cory’s lips. Lips that were puffy and red and too damn seductive looking for me to concentrate on anything else.
“Are you going to answer that?” she asked.
“No.” My voice was rough as I leaned back down to resume where we left off.
But the ringing picked up again a minute later, and before I could stop her, Cory was answering it.
“Officer Adler’s phone,” she said playfully. Whoever was on the phone responded, and her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit, sorry! I mean—crap! Here’s Garrett.”
She ripped the phone away from her ear and held it out to me like it was on fire. Whoever was on the other end of the call had definitely managed to rile her up.
I glanced at the phone screen and barked out a laugh. “Hi, Mom. How’d you know we were just talking about you?”
“Call it Mother’s Intuition. Is that why I had to call you twice to get you to answer?” she teased.
“Sorry. What’s up?”
“Well, I was calling to ask you if you could stop by to take a look at something for me, but now I’m much more interested in the young lady who answered your phone. Who is she? When do I get to meet her?” Her excitement was palpable, and it made me smile.
“Her name is Cory, and she’s my girlfriend.” I held Cory’s gaze and watched for her reaction at the term. We hadn’t discussed what we were yet, but there wasn’t a question about what she was to me.
Cory bit her lip on a smile as she cocked an eyebrow. She wasn’t denying it, so I’d take it.
“You’re just like your father, only answering one of my questions. I should start asking them one at a time.”
“Probably. What was the other question?” I reached out for Cory’s arm and gently brushed my thumb against the soft skin of her wrist.
“When do I get to meet her? ”
“Well, considering I only just dropped the girlfriend bomb on her right now, I’d say maybe give her some time.” I chuckled.
“But your sisters are going to be in town tonight, and I’m making a big dinner. There will be more than enough for her too!”
I shook my head. “Mom, I promise I’ll bring her to meet you guys soon, but I don’t think—”
Cory cut me off and whisper-shouted, “What does she want?”
“Hold on one second, Mom, okay?” I muted my end of the phone and spoke to Cory. “She’s trying to get me to bring you over for dinner tonight. She wants to meet you.”
She said she wanted to meet my family, but saying it, and having the opportunity presented to her within thirty seconds of becoming my girlfriend, were two different things.
Cory smiled softly and nodded toward the phone. “I’d like that. Tell her we’ll be there.”
Warmth flooded my chest, and I grinned. “Are you sure? My sisters will be there too.”
She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sure. They can’t be worse than my family.”
“They’re going to love you, I promise.” I squeezed her wrist reassuringly, then unmuted the call to tell my mom the good news.
** *
Cory was quiet on the drive to my parent’s house, but it wasn’t a bad quiet. There was the nervousness that always accompanied meeting someone else’s family for the first time, but there was excitement too. Like she couldn’t wait to see the people I cared so much about for herself.
We pulled into the driveway a little before six, and I couldn’t help but notice the differences between her parents’ house and mine. There was no grand, white facade supported by towering pillars. There was weathered blue siding that needed a fresh coat of paint. The mailbox wasn’t encased in stonework, but was a plain white one my mom had painted berries on and plated geraniums in the back of. The driveway itself wasn’t cobblestone, it was dirt and rocks. There was a tire swing hanging from the giant oak tree in the front yard even though none of us were kids anymore, and the front door had a wreath of purple hydrangeas on it. The Adler house was nothing like the Eastwood’s. It was a home.
I put my truck in park and looked over at Cory, unable to keep the smile off my face. I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “They’re going to love you.”
Just then, my mother popped her head out of the front door, her apron covered in white. She had always been the messiest baker. “Gar-bear, stop hogging her and come inside!”
Cory snorted, gawking at me. “Gar-bear?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Don’t start. Just get your fine ass out of my truck.”
We walked up the stone walkway that had crabgrass growing up between the cracks, and even though my mother just embarrassed me with the use of my childhood nickname, excitement and a sense of peace washed over me as we walked through the front door and into the beautiful chaos that was my family.