Chapter 20
Garrett
Over the course of a delicious meal, Angela and I talk about Bliss and all the reasons it’s perfect for her hotel.
We talk about the weather. We talk about the economy and the toll it’s taken on her business, on mine, on the world at large.
She reads through the contracts and my proposal, her eyes narrowing shrewdly as she questions me on details.
After she’s satisfied with my answers, she forwards them to her lawyers for review.
And that should be enough.
But it’s not.
While the banter is fun and the conversation clicks along, it's not doing it for me. For as much as I resist, I want to know her, and I want to be known by her.
And I don’t just mean sexually. I find myself asking about her likes and dislikes, her childhood, her time at school.
I want connection.
I’m such an idiot for feeling that way.
People are good at one thing and one thing only, letting each other down. Judging each other for our worst traits and failing to see the good, the humanity, the struggle. We take what we want from each other and move on.
Letting Angela know me will not end well.
It never does.
“This has been really nice.” She rests her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “For someone who claims to be all business, you're easy to talk to.”
“That’s because business is easy to talk about.”
Her eyes darken and she buys time by taking a drink. “And here I thought you might actually be enjoying my company.”
I watch, transfixed, as her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. “I am. I'm enjoying it a lot. But that doesn't change the fact that this evening was just business.”
I don't know if I'm repeating myself to remind her, to remind me, or to remind us both, but the statement puts a damper on the atmosphere.
“Look. Garrett.” Angela sits back, sighing in frustration. “It’s clear there’s something going on here. And I’m not saying we need to do anything about it, but…I don’t know…do you really think ignoring this—” she gestures between us “—is the best way forward?”
“I do. It is.” I finish my whiskey and set the glass on the table. I want another, but still have the drive to the hotel ahead of me. More importantly, Angela still has the drive to the hotel ahead of her. If I order another drink, she might too, and previous experience says Angel’s a lightweight.
I push my glass away. No more whiskey tonight.
“Shouldn’t we at least talk about what we did? On the phone?” She leans closer, lowering her voice. The flickering candle casts a dance of light and shadow across her face. She’s really quite beautiful.
“What’s talking going to do for us?” I spin my glass on the table, watching as the ice catches the light. “I like my women in the form of distractions, and that's not what you’re looking for.”
Resist, Garrett. Resist. Don’t let her see that she’s becoming a different kind of distraction. One you can’t get out of your mind no matter what you do.
“What if I want to be distracted by you the same way you want to be distracted by me?” Angela cocks her head, her eyes searching mine.
I lean back as laughter sounds from somewhere in the restaurant. It mixes with the quiet music and the clatter of silverware against plates. I’ve been so focused on her, I forgot there were other people around us and haven’t checked my phone once.
Strange.
“I don’t see it,” I say, enjoying the way it feels to have her undivided attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not the kind of person who’s looking for distractions.”
“Oh, really?” Angela scoffs. “Enlighten me then, since you know me so well. What kind of person am I?”
“You believe in real love.” I grab my water and eye her as I drink. “You want to be seen for who you are. You want to share important facts about yourself and to hear deep personal stories in return. You want connection.”
She recoils. “And you don’t?”
“I don’t.” Liar. I very much do, which is why I need to shut this down.
“Why?” Angela’s brow furrows.
Because connection leads to pain.
To loss.
To anniversaries of terrible events that come back to haunt you year after year for the rest of your life.
“Because I’m not easy to connect with.”
“That’s something you could fix if you wanted to.” Angela’s frown deepens. My worldview confuses her, as it does most people who don’t know how easy it is to lose the people you love. Life changes with the snap of a finger…
…the blink of an eye…
…the shriek of tires on pavement and a nightmare of twisted metal…
Pushing those thoughts away, I fold my arms on the table, leaning closer. “So is your desire to have a serious relationship.”
She mimics the action. “For starters, you’re the one who decided that’s what I want and for two, how in the world is that something that needs fixed?”
“There’s nothing wrong with people coming together just for sex.”
Thoughts tick away behind her eyes before she says, “Just like there’s nothing wrong with someone wanting the happily-ever-after.
And, you know, bonus points if the sex is on fire too.
It’s probably the only way the happily-ever-after will happen.
” Angela sits back like she’s won the match and I laugh wryly.
“What’s this, Angel?” I lift a condescending eyebrow. “A proposal?”
“What? Jesus, Garrett. No. I’m just saying. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting a serious relationship, especially not if you find the right person. Not that I’m saying I want one with you. Or that you’re anywhere close to the right person. I’m just…you know…talking.”
She’s flustered. Her cheeks pink. Her eyes wide. I shouldn’t like it, but I do.
The bill arrives and I pay, like I would if this was any other business meeting.
We leave the restaurant and drive to the hotel one town over, and I can’t keep myself from watching her in the rearview.
I need to know she’s safe, she’s paying attention, she’s not about to make one tiny mistake that leads to a disastrous result.
The compulsion annoys the fuck out of me.
For all my talk about business this and business that, I’m blurring those lines in a big way.
We make it to the hotel without incident and, after circling a full parking lot in search of a spot, walk quietly into the building.
“I drove straight to the construction site from the airport. Still need to check in.” Angela smiles sheepishly as she indicates the front desk with a jerk of her thumb. “Though I guess the suitcase I’m wheeling behind me probably gave that away.”
“Same.” I heft my own bag, then set my jaw and focus straight ahead because if I so much as look at her, I’ll drag her to my room and break the promises we made on the phone.
I need to be inside her and that’s not helping anything at this point.
Not after all my sanctimonious preaching about distractions at the restaurant.
Two clerks check us in and we stand there, side by side, like we did at Seaside Mobile.
Who would have thought a simple mistake would lead to whatever this clusterfuck of attraction is between us.
If we hadn’t left with each other’s phones that day, we wouldn’t have needed to meet at the bar.
I wouldn’t have kissed her. Or called her. None of this would have happened.
If only that stupid kid hadn’t tried to Kamikaze off his mom’s suitcase. I’d be on my way back home, where I could let all things Angela Hutton drain out of my system for good.
“Oh…Mr. Cooper.” The young woman checking me in glances up from her computer. “I’m so sorry. There’s been a problem with your reservation.” The screeching and squealing of children playing comes from somewhere in the hotel and she shakes her head in annoyance.
This does not bode well. Judging by the glazed over smile, the stupidly full parking lot, and the way this woman is fidgeting, I’m about to be righteously pissed off.
“What kind of problem…Tara?” I arch an eyebrow as I read her name tag.
The poor woman grimaces. “Unfortunately, the guests who checked out of your room this morning left a lot of…umm…damage. I’m afraid it’s not habitable.”
“And won’t be for some time,” murmurs the woman working with Angela.
Not habitable? Are you fucking kidding me?
“Then find me a new one.” This is what I get for staying in a cheap hotel. A more expensive establishment would have solved the problem before I arrived.
“Well, see—” Tara glances at the clerk beside her “—unfortunately, the hotel is completely booked. There’s some sort of dance competition in town and—”
“Are you telling me I flew down to nowhere South Carolina, where you are the only hotel for miles, you don’t have the room you promised me, and it didn’t occur to you—to anyone—to call me?”
“We did, Mr. Cooper. Multiple times.” Tara glances at Angela as if help waits for her there.
I dig my phone out of my pocket and open the call history, ready to unload my anger on the woman with both barrels…
Would you look at that.
Four missed calls, all from the hotel. I was so preoccupied with Angela at dinner, I didn’t hear them come in.
Fucking perfect. Grimacing, I slide my phone back into my pocket as a herd of little girls and their mothers filters into the lobby.
They mill around like lost geese, increasing the sound level by a thousand percent.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Cooper.” Tara raises her voice to be heard over the din. “I wish there was something I could do. There’s a motel about twenty miles north of here. It’s not as nice as this one—”
“Not by a long shot,” the clerk helping Angela says with a laugh. “Unless you intend to pay by the hour, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I murmur under my breath and Angela puts a hand on my arm.
“It’s fine,” she says with that optimistic twinkle in her eye. “You can share my room. All they had left when I made my reservation were rooms with two queen beds. So…we’re good. Problem solved. Fate is looking out for us.”
Fate is not looking out for us. Fate is laughing her ass off.
Two beds won’t change my urge to fuck Angela senseless.
It’ll only make it harder to ignore.
God help me, I’m in over my head.