34. Garrett
GARRETT
After the impromptu movie night, I made it a point to romance Emerson a bit more.
Hold her longer.
Kiss her deeper.
Give her more moments of quiet.
I even sent flowers to her office which got me a don’t do that again text and the most epic blow job of my life when she got home.
Balance.
“Garrett, I need you to focus,” Theo barks, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “The fundraiser is in two weeks. Garrett, we need to make sure your suit is ready to go. Emerson, your alterations are done—they just need you to try it on again.”
“You got a dress?” I ask, surprised. She has a closet full of evening gowns, so I just assumed she’d pick one of those.
My eyes bounce between Theo and Emerson who are both staring at me like this should be a given. But I’ve never had a wife who runs a billion-dollar company, so what do I know?
“Yes,” Emerson says slowly, “I got a dress.” More pointedly, she adds, “For you.”
For me?
That shouldn’t light me up like a god damn Christmas tree but it does. It really does.
“Anyway,” Theo says slowly, enunciating all the syllables until I glare. “Tom and Kat will be there as well as Jace, Ozzy, and Grimm. The guys will be on the periphery. Tom and Kat are normal guests unless something happens then Tom said he’d step in.”
“Look at you knowing all the things,” Emerson croons, making Theo roll his eyes.
“Just for the record, I’ve been doing this well before you came along, missy,” he fires back, making her laugh as she pulls him into a side hug.
“Aww, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favorite.”
He harumphs but doesn’t argue.
He doesn’t argue!
“Hey!” I whine. “I’m your favorite.”
“Yes, you too,” he concedes halfheartedly, but it’s too late. The damage is done. I’m pouting and he’s growling as Emerson barks out a laugh and shakes her head.
“You’re a little troublemaker,” Theo tells her, but she just shrugs one delicate shoulder.
“It’s a gift.”
“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t sound convinced at all. “Well, please continue that gift by not getting into trouble because I’m salaried and don’t get overtime.”
“I just gave you a bonus for putting up with me.”
“Yes, and at the rate we’re going, you’re not going to be able to afford me.” He sniffs and Emerson smirks, but I just laugh because it’s an empty threat.
“I can,” Emerson offers slyly, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“Are you trying to poach my assistant?” I scoff as she makes a show of studying her nails.
“I’m a great boss—just saying.”
“I can be bought,” Theo coughs into his hand, the exaggeration of the words making him unable to keep a straight face.
“Everyone wins.” Emerson looks far too pleased with herself, her smile beaming as she winks at me.
“Everyone does not win. Who is going to run my life? I can’t be trusted to do that.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Theo deadpans.
“I could retire you but then you’d have to have dinner on the table every night when I get home from work. But I’d have one request…”
Her eyes drag down my body, lingering below the waist before moving back up again.
“What’s that?” My voice is full of gravel, a myriad of fantasies flashing through my mind.
“You could only wear an apron, you know, just enough to protect the goods.”
“And that’s my cue to leave. Emerson, this has been…enlightening. Garrett, I’ll be sending you the bill from my therapist.”
His parting words are shouted as he heads for the door, the wood slamming and the lock engaging as Emerson closes the distance between us.
“I bet we can get overnight shipping on that apron. I’ll be a kept man by morning.” Gripping her ass, I drag her up my body until her legs wrap around my waist.
“If I’m going to pay for overnight shipping, you better give me one hell of a performance.”
“Baby, I’m a rock star. Performance is my middle name.”
EMERSON
“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask as I fold a pair of yoga pants from the pile I dumped onto the bed. I ran it through another quick dry cycle after I forgot about it this afternoon so everything wouldn’t be so wrinkled.
Well, I didn’t forget so much as Garrett distracted me for quite a while after Theo finally left.
“I kind of just figured you had a service in Chicago do your laundry.”
“I use one for my work clothes.”
Garrett picks up a pair of his jeans, his lips twitching as he folds them in a way that I’m positive Theo would be horrified by.
“I mean all your clothes.”
“Are you suggesting I’m incapable of doing simple household chores, Garrett?” I ask, mildly offended by the insinuation. “Like laundry?”
“I’m just saying that I think it’s a nice balance that you run the world and also match socks.”
Gaping at him, I throw said pair of socks at him which he bats down onto the bed as he chuckles.
“You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” he croons, his lips curving up into a sexy smirk that he’s hoping will distract me from the fact that he thinks I’m too good to do laundry.
“You’ve seen me do dishes. And cook. Why would you think I don’t do laundry?”
“We’ve just never done this. It’s very domesticated.”
“Couch.”
He laughs and shakes his head, grabbing a white T-shirt and doing whatever one step above balling up the fabric would be.
Now it’s his turn to frown. “What?”
“What is that?” I motion toward the mangled shirt.
“A shirt.” His frown deepens.
“Right, but what did you do to it?”
“I folded it.”
“Garrett, that is a raccoon making a nest.” It’s my turn to laugh as he picks up my discarded socks and throws them back at me.
“It is not,” he protests, unable to keep the smile from his lips. “I’ve always done it this way and it’s always been fine.” When I widen my eyes, he rolls his. “Usually.”
“Except…”
“Except when Theo gets annoyed and either rewashes my shirts that are ‘too wrinkled for a functioning adult to be wearing’ or he irons them.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“You’ve met him; of course he does. Sometimes when he’s really stressed, he color codes my closet.”
“Are Colt and Roan like this?” I ask in amused disbelief. “There’s no way I married the man-child out of the three of you.”
“I am not a man-child.” He growls but it’s not sexy—it’s childish like he wanted to stomp his foot but settled for this instead.
It’s now my favorite riled-up version of him.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” I purr, parroting his words back to him as he narrows his eyes.
“It was funny when I said it.” He pouts and I nod even though we both don’t believe me. “What about you? Are you just perfect, Miss Andrews? No flaws to speak of?”
“Oh, I have plenty.” I snort out a laugh as I grab a crewneck from the dwindling pile. “Why do you think I’ve been single most of my adult life? I’m a nightmare.”
“Go on…”
“Like I hate putting the cap back on the toothpaste, but I also hate clutter so the tube goes right into the drawer sans cap.”
“You’re a monster.” He mock gasps and I shrug.
“I always throw the ends of the bread out unless it’s like an artisan bread then it’s determined on a case by case basis.”
“Naturally.”
“I drink orange juice right from the bottle because I never want a whole glass, and it feels like a waste to dirty one for just a sip.”
“Is that all?” he asks, not even trying to keep the amusement from his face.
“Not even close.”
“Well, it’s nice to know you’re human, Em.”
“You’re still sleeping on the couch.” I sniff as he bats the rest of the clothes off the bed and crawls across the mattress.
“I’d like to plead my case.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“I can be very persuasive.”
“You think so, huh?” I whisper as he reaches me and straightens so he’s on his knees before me.
“I do.” With his hands sliding around my waist and a wolfish grin on his lips, he adds, “Wanna see?”
As a matter of fact, I do.