Chapter 4
Garrett
I’ve barely slept tonight.
Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Annie. With her head thrown back, laughing, her blonde hair wild. The way her lips felt under mine, parting, allowing me access.
Everything in my world feels wrong now. My cabin, the only place that’s been home, peace, and solitude.
Even my bedroom…my bed. It’s all too quiet.
Too empty. I’m not used to wishing for someone to be next to me when I roll over at night.
But damn it, if I don’t wish she were tangled up in these sheets with me.
By the time the sun decides to come up, I’m fucking wired.
I start with a cold shower. Not that it helps.
The second the water hits my skin, all I can see is Annie…
those tan bare legs tucked up under my shirt, those perfect plump lips parted, eyes daring me to cross every line.
My hand wraps around my cock, rough and desperate, and I start to pump slow, gradually increasing my rhythm, chasing that sharp edge, pretending it’s her touch, her mouth, her warm pussy grinding against me.
I come hard, biting back a groan, the water washing away everything but the ache in my chest.
It’s not enough. It’s never enough. She’s under my skin, and I want her so much it hurts. I find myself in the kitchen, the very place everything between us shifted… pacing, and before I know it, I’ve downed a whole pot of coffee…literally. Fuck!
Desperate to find anything to help shake off this restlessness buzzing under my skin. I search the entire house, fixing every loose nut, bolt, and screw I can find. Nothing is working.
I have to see her.
Not tonight. Now.
I change shirts twice, telling myself I don’t care what she thinks. Lie. Ending up in my favorite Henley, the blue one that fits snug across my chest. Hoping it’s not giving off vibes that I’m trying too hard to impress someone.
Hell, maybe I am… throwing on the nicest pair of dark denim Wranglers I have and the cleanest pair of boots I currently own.
I make some sandwiches, throwing them into a backpack, along with some fresh fruit and a couple of bottles of water. Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?
I glance up at the clock, noticing the time. Shit. Breakfast.
If I show up at the ass crack of dawn empty-handed, she’ll never let me hear the end of it. So I grab my truck keys and head to The Cozy Corner to grab some coffee and a couple of those cinnamon rolls she had gone on and on about.
I get to the diner, order the rolls and coffee, and endure Aubrey’s nosey, knowing grin. “You’re looking more alive than usual this morning, Garrett,” she says, sliding two steaming cups across the counter. “Big plans today?”
“Just breakfast,” I mutter, grabbing my shit, trying to get away from Aubrey and anyone else who feels my life is any of their business.
She winks. “Uh-huh. Tell Annie she should come by for pie tonight. I want a full report.”
I grunt, fighting the urge to smile. Not wanting to waste any more time or give Aubrey another chance at small talk, I leave and head toward The Mountain View Inn before I have a chance to overthink it.
I park out front, grab the bag of breakfast, and step into the inn’s lobby. The place smells like lemon cleaner and burned coffee. Savannah is behind the desk, scrolling on her phone.
Even though she’s only nineteen, Savannah has been the inn’s ‘gatekeeper’ for as long as I can remember.
She’s a firecracker with a sharp tongue, cat-eye glasses, and auburn hair that’s a mess of curls twisted on top of her head.
She’s made it her mission to know everything that’s going on with everyone in Crystal Falls, making damn sure she gets her two cents in every opportunity she gets.
Not even bothering to look up, she says, “Well, well, if it isn’t the mountain man himself, out before noon and in actual civilization. What’s the occasion, Garrett?”
I grunt, shifting the paper bag in my hand. “Need to drop something off for Annie. What room is she in?”
Savannah finally looks up, grinning, all teeth and trouble. “I gotta say, showing up with breakfast? That’s a bold move for an old guy like you.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not old.”
She snickers. “Old enough. Annie’s what… early twenties? She’s gonna wear you out.”
“Just give me the damn room number,” I mutter, already turning toward the stairs.
Savannah leans in, her voice dropping low. “You want me to slip her a note, or are flowers next? I know a florist.”
“Savannah,” I bark, not in the mood.
She winks, waving me on. “Chill, Grandpa. Go, ruin her for all the other city boys. Room six.”
I shake my head, biting back a smile despite myself. I take the steps two at a time, my nerves getting the best of me. Just before I knock on door six, I take a deep breath, telling myself to act normal. Whatever the hell that means.
I have to knock twice. She opens the door, rubbing sleep from her eyes, wearing a faded T-shirt and shorts that make my mouth go dry. Fuck. Those legs.
“Garrett?” Her voice is rough from sleep.
“Brought you breakfast,” I say, holding up the bag and coffee like an idiot.
Her face lights up, beaming back at me. “You’re too much, you know that? I could definitely get used to this.”
“Don’t,” I grumble, but inside I’m thinking about how damn easy it would be to keep her spoiled.
We eat on the porch, letting the sun warm our faces. She teases me for showing up early, for worrying, for being such a “secret softie.” I roll my eyes, but every time I look at her, I want to drag her onto my lap and kiss her until she can’t tease me anymore.
“So, what’s on the schedule for today, mountain man?” she asks, licking icing from her finger. And I can’t help staring at her mouth.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Thought I’d take you up to the waterfall. It’s my favorite spot. Quiet. No crowds.”
She grins, leaning in. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I shrug. “If you want to call it that.”
“I do,” she says, and damn if my heart doesn’t stutter.
We drive out, windows down. She talks the whole way. Of course. More about her life in Charlotte, her dream to visit Paris, and the time she accidentally dyed her hair blue. I can barely keep up, but I don’t dare stop her. I just listen, soaking in every word like rain after a drought.
At the falls, she hops out of the truck and stretches. My brain short-circuits at the sight of her soft stomach as her shirt rides up.
“Okay, city girl, you good to give this hiking thing another shot?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Let’s do it.”
The woods wrap around us, a world away from everything else.
She talks, asks questions, points at every bird, shrub, rock, until I’m grinning like an idiot.
But when she trips on a root and grabs my arm, all my good intentions fly out the window.
Her hand is small, warm, gripping mine, and I don’t let go.
At the waterfall, she stops to catch her breath. “Oh my god, Garrett. This is insane.” I don’t even bother to look at the water. I’m looking at her. The way the sun makes her blonde hair look golden, the way her eyes dance as she takes it all in.
I attempt to set up our picnic spot, pulling everything out of my backpack, but my hands won’t stop shaking. She drops down beside me, close enough that our knees bump.
She takes a bite of her sandwich, and I watch her lick mayonnaise off her thumb. It shouldn’t be sexy but, fuck, I can’t look away, making my cock stir. I’m getting turned on just watching her eat, every swipe of her tongue making it harder to remember why I should keep my hands to myself.
“Something on your mind?” she asks, catching me watching.
I look away, jaw tight. “Hard to think straight with you sitting that close.”
She laughs. “So, move.”
I don’t. Instead, I reach over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leans into my touch like it’s natural.
“Why did you really bring me out here?” she asks, her voice soft, sweet.
I sigh, and honesty comes out before I can stop myself. “Wanted you all to myself.” Her eyes widen at the confession.
She bites her lip, and I lose the last of my self-control. I lean in, kissing her, slow, savoring the way she melts against me. Her hands find my shoulders, tugging me closer, and suddenly I’m on fire.
She climbs into my lap, straddling me right there on the blanket, and I can barely breathe. Her mouth is everywhere—soft, urgent, tasting, teasing. My hands slide under her shirt, finding warm skin, letting my fingers trace her spine.
She gasps, grinding against me, and I groan, desperate.
“Jesus, Annie,” I rasp, pulling back just enough to see her face. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me.”