21. Garrett
GARRETT
The elevator ride up to Emerson’s office barely makes you feel like you’re even moving. The experience feels expensive and it probably is. She texted me around six to tell me that she sent Samson home and that she’d be staying in her apartment because work had been hell and she was buried.
The guilt had been immediate because here’s this woman upending her carefully crafted life for me. Between commuting and rearranging her schedule to accommodate life in Ironwood, she’s got to be exhausted, and while I don’t know if my presence will be a relief, I’m hopeful.
My sneakers scuff against the tile floor as I pass a security guard, his presence unsurprising, even this late in the evening.
I nod at him, thankful Emerson isn’t entirely alone up here, especially because Tom had already briefed me on today’s events.
I’m happy for the reassurance that Emerson is safe, at least physically, after the shitstorm she walked into.
There’s no one outside her office, so I slow my steps and knock at the same time I poke my head inside. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” The question is more surprise than anything, and if the lift of her lips is any indication, it means my gamble paid off.
I’d rehearsed this in the car, something sweet but not overly needy because showing up at your fake wife’s office after hours because you missed her and didn’t want to sleep alone isn’t it.
But I can’t remember any of the words.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” slips out instead, her face softening as she pushes back from her desk and saunters over to me, draping her arms over my shoulders and pressing her lips to mine.
“I am, thank you,” she murmurs, melting into me when my arm bands around her waist.
“Is this overstepping?” I ask, pulling back to look her in the eyes. She’s so damn pretty it hurts. Even after hours of work and dealing with stress and chaos, she’s still the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen.
“I don’t know.” There’s honesty there and it’s more than I expected. “I want to say yes because I have about six hours of work left tonight but…” She trails off, looking at something past my shoulder while her fingers slide through the hair at the back of my neck. “I needed this break.”
It’s not exactly a winning expression of devotion, but it’s not nothing either.
Emerson has been firm that this arrangement is just that—an arrangement—but tonight feels like more.
At least to me.
“Did you eat? I brought dinner.” I nod toward the bag that somehow ended up on the floor when she started kissing me. Even now, it’s hard to think with her pressed against me like she is.
And I like it.
“And an overnight bag?” Her eyebrow quirks, and I glance at the small black duffle next to the takeout and shrug.
“I can go home but I wanted to be prepared.”
“Didn’t take you for a Boy Scout, Rockstar.”
I snort out a laugh as she eases from my grasp, moving back toward her desk, but instead of sitting down, she pulls an oversized purse from the floor and starts shoving files into it.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“You can help later.” She winks and I don’t bother hiding my smile or the way my eyes automatically rake over her body.
“Done.” A few more clicks of her computer and she straightens, picking up the purse as I hold my hand out. “Let me.”
Emerson is reluctant but eventually places the straps in my palm and sighs as she leads me toward the elevator.
I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this all by herself, that I can be a real partner in this and help alleviate not just the tension but the weight of what she carries in this position.
The reality that I can’t say any of that hits me like a ton of bricks, as the elevator doors slide closed as she leans against the gold mirrored wall.
“I don’t think anyone has ever done something like this for me.” she says quietly. “I don’t know if I know how to receive something so thoughtful.”
My immediate response is to tell her it’s just takeout, but that’s not what she means. No one has ever put Emerson first simply because they wanted to. It’s always been an obligation and that’s a damn shame.
Leaning in, I press a kiss to her forehead and silently curse when the elevator dings. The moment deserved to be longer, the need to build her up still so potent as I follow her onto her floor.
But that door has closed, and all I can do is hope that I’ll get another chance to show her that even though our marriage is temporary, I’m not going anywhere.
EMERSON
I’m ignoring the way I can feel myself relaxing as Garrett and I eat dinner on the couch in my very expensive apartment. When Isla and I were climbing the corporate ladder, we both felt it was necessary to decorate our respective apartments accordingly.
And we did.
Sleek lines and neutral colors makes it look like something out of a magazine.
But it’s not a home.
It’s the space where I’ve been living for most of my adulthood, a distinction I wouldn’t have made before moving in with Garrett.
His house is definitely full of expensive pieces and features, but it’s comfortable. Roan and Colt had no problem walking in and dropping onto the couches in the living room like they’re still in college and not three incredibly successful professionals.
It’s strange.
And endearing…and suddenly this place doesn’t feel much like home. Because I also like falling into the couches in Garrett’s house and hopping up on the counter in the kitchen while he’s making coffee.
There are no band shirts for me to steal here either.
I snort at the last thought, drawing his attention as he freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“What?”
“I was thinking about how much cozier your house is.” I wave my fork around. “This place has zero personality and none of your shirts that I’ve been wearing to bed.”
The closet and drawers here are stocked with matching silk pajamas and other designer sets that appear casual but cost the same as some mortgage payments.
“Good thing I packed an extra one, isn’t it?” he says rather smugly.
“Did Theo tell you to do that?”
“No, I thought of it all by myself.” He pouts and I cover my smile with my hand before schooling my expression.
“I apologize. I’m incredibly impressed.”
He harrumphs and it’s refreshing. He’s so casual and easy and nothing like the other men I’ve been out with. Garrett North is a good man, a fact that had been at the forefront of my mind when Quinn had been terminated.
“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” he asks as if reading my mind.
“Do you know Heather Fraser?”
“Yeah, I went out with her for a couple of months, like, three or four years ago. Why?”
“A woman in my office, Quinn, was communicating with her about you—us—speculating on our marriage being fake. She was listed as a source. It violates the contract every employee signs when they start working at Andrews International, and she was terminated.”
“And you think that it’s because, what? Heather’s still hung up on me?”
“Is she?”
“I can ask Theo. I don’t have a whole lot to do with my social media accounts, but I don’t remember him saying anything about it.”
“Did it end amicably?” I ask, trying to keep the hint of misplaced jealousy from my voice. It was years ago so it shouldn’t matter.
But it does.
And I know that because Nico will have to hold me back if I ever see her in public.
My marriage might have a deadline, but until that time comes, Garrett North belongs to me.
“Kind of? But maybe not,” he corrects, setting his fork in the container and running his hand through his hair.
“I thought it was a casual thing, and she was making plans, so I ended it because I was too focused on the band to be anyone’s serious anything.
” Frustrated, his eyes meet mine. “Do you really think Heather is interested in causing problems for me so long after we were seeing each other?”
“I don’t know. Money and fame bring out the worst in people. Maybe she’s upset that you’re married now even though you ended things with her because you didn’t want a relationship.”
“That’s ridiculous. It was years ago.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you,” I tell him, pausing long enough to let that sink in. “Or maybe it’s a coincidence that Quinn and Heather connected at all.”
I don’t believe the words for a second, and I can tell by the way Garrett’s eyebrows slash down that he doesn’t either. Pulling out his phone, I watch as he taps away at the screen before tossing the device on the coffee table.
“Theo will get back to me tomorrow.”
“Do you know Des and Theo are going on a date soon?”
“Yeah. Theo sent me like six outfit options as if he’s not the one who dresses me for formal events.
” Garrett rolls his eyes and I gape at him while picking up a pricey decorative pillow and chucking it at his stupidly handsome face.
“Hey! What was that for?” He laughs, blocking it at the last second.
“You knew? What good is being married to you if you’re not giving me all the hot gossip about our assistants hooking up?”
“They’re not hooking up.”
“Yet.”
“Listen, I’m sorry that Des is not as forthcoming as Theo is about this stuff, but I’ve been subjected to years of botched dates, ugly breakups, and drama I’d rather get a root canal than relive.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Why don’t you text Theo and ask for updates and—”
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not? He’d love it.”
“Because my loyalty is to Des! If things go south, I can’t risk being caught in the middle.”
“Then I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens.” He smirks and I want to protest until he slowly unfolds himself from the couch, holding his hand out to me as he stands. “I know you have work to do, but I’d bet every dollar I have that you could use a bath.”
“You going to join me, Rockstar?”
“Am I invited?”
“After tonight, Mr. North, you’ve definitely earned it.”