Chapter 25
Garrett
The scent of coconut pulls me from sleep. My eyes blink open, then fall shut again. There’s warmth and softness curled against me. I wrap my arms tighter around her and pull her close…
Oh, shit.
I lift my head to find Angela curled into me, one arm thrown over my chest, a leg tossed over mine.
Her hair fans over my shoulder and I’m holding her ass like it was made for me.
I drop my hand, then try to ease out from underneath her, but she moans, somehow managing to roll even closer.
Fucking hell, it’s like she wants to be on top of me.
The thought sends an explosion of images through my mind. Her, riding my cock. Breasts bouncing. Head tossed back. Lips parted. Chest heaving.
My dick swells against her thigh.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This is not good.
Angela mumbles something, shifting even closer, then freezes.
Her eyes spring open. Her head lifts. She meets my gaze with a look of shock slackening her jaw.
“I am so sorry.” She pulls away, her thigh crushing my cock and her eyes go even wider.
“Oh my God. Yep. Super sorry.” She scoots as far away as humanly possible, sits up, and swings her legs off the bed.
“Nothing to apologize for. Just, you know, it happens in the morning.”
“Right. Yeah.” She glances over her shoulder. “Morning wood. Everyone knows about that. Totally, one hundred percent natural and normal.”
Her jaw drops. She slaps a hand over her face, laughing as she shakes her head. “Yep. I just said that. Welcome to first thing in the morning with a filter-less Angela Hutton.”
We spend the next hour pretending she didn’t accidentally squeeze my dick with her thigh.
Rinsing our paper cups to reuse for coffee.
Moving around the small space, careful not to touch.
Or stand too close. Or hold eye contact too long.
You’d think we’d been caught having sex in the boardroom and were trying to pretend no one saw.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask as I come out of the bathroom, making space for her to use the mirror and brush her teeth. A whisper of coconut breezes by as she passes and fuck if I don’t pause to breathe it in.
“My flight leaves at two.” She leans against the door and scrubs her face. “I was gonna sleep in and fly home. Now, you know, I’ll skip the sleeping in part because it’s early and we’re awake.”
I press my lips together and bob my head. I had the same plan but now, after sharing a room with her, I don’t want to follow it. The thought of going back to our respective corners of the world just doesn’t do it for me. But she does.
She really fucking does it for me.
And what does that mean about the deal? About work? Angela is not just the daughter of a client; she is a client.
My gaze wanders her face, lingering on luscious lips, clear blue eyes, and I come to a decision I didn’t know I was making.
“Stay. With me. We’ll go to the beach. Get to know Bliss better. Get to know each other better. Grab some dinner and fly home tomorrow.”
Angela narrows her eyes. “Why?”
Because I’m tired of this back and forth. I want to focus on the journey instead of the destination and that means acknowledging I feel better when I’m with you. I want to know you and I want to stop giving a shit if it’ll end in disaster.
I stare while those thoughts run through my mind and Angela squirms.
“Because you’re distracting me,” I finally grit out, looking away and clearing my throat.
“I thought you liked distractions.”
My attention slams back into hers. “Not like this.” The words grind up my throat. “I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I can’t work. I need to know what this is.”
“What do you think it is?” Her cool stare dares me to say what neither of us are brave enough to admit.
“Damn it, Angel. I don’t know.” I laugh as my fists clench, holding back the desire to grab her shoulders and kiss her until I remember who I am. “But I want to. Don’t you?”
Her soft blues blink up at me, wide and wondering as she nods. “I want to know.”
Her admission feels like triumph. I wipe a hand across my mouth to hide my smile. “Good. Change your flight. I’ll let the hotel know we’re staying another night. Then we’ll get ready and hit the road around noon.”
“There you go, being bossy again.”
“Be a good girl and follow directions.” I wink and shove my hands in my pockets, stepping back as I let my eyes wander her curves, drinking her in like the fucking masterpiece she is.
Her jaw drops and the corner of her mouth lifts in a smile, before she laughs, shakes her head, and closes the bathroom door.
Nerves flip and flutter in my stomach. Fucking nerves. It’s been a long time since I cared what someone thought and the last time I did, it ended in disaster. Since then, I’ve changed the way I look at people.
If I have fun with someone, great. If I don’t, that’ll be the end of that.
But Angela?
I want today to be special. If that isn’t a problem, I don’t know what is.
I lean on the doorframe, folding my arms across my chest while I wait.
My Angel’s hair is swept back into a ponytail.
Her eyes sparkle with a smile. A white sundress glistens against silky skin and her ass looks so amazing, I want to sink my teeth into it, to squeeze it, to leave my mark on a luscious hip…
“Sorry to make you wait,” she says. “I didn’t exactly pack with a day at the beach in mind…” She flares her hands at her body. “I hope this’ll do.”
“It’ll do.” Holy fuck will it do. I push off the wall. “You look beautiful.”
“And you look brooding and intense as usual.” Angela’s smile brightens as she steps into the room. “And not at all prepared for the beach.” Her eyes sweep along my dress slacks and polo. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I’m dead set on it.” I smooth the front of my shirt, glad I at least thought to pack something with short sleeves, then meet her worried gaze. Oh shit. Here I thought she was questioning our day together because of my clothes.
But maybe…
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“A little. I don’t know. It's just…” A shrug. Broken eye contact. “What if this is a mistake? What about the deal? Your boss? My dad?”
I don’t have answers to those questions, even though I’ve been asking them myself. All I know is that I can’t ignore what I want any longer. And what I want is her.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. For the rest of the time we’re in Bliss, we forget that you’re Angela Hutton, representing the Hutton Hotel, and I’m Garrett Cooper, from Vision Enterprise.
The rest of our time here is…” How can I explain what I’m thinking without sounding like an idiot? “It’s a bubble of stolen time.”
Angela’s hand coming up to cover her smile says I shouldn’t congratulate myself on my word choice.
Why does nothing feel normal with her? I’m a man who knows what he wants and takes action to get it.
I know what to say and when to say it. With her, I bumble and blunder like someone handed me the wrong set of rules.
I swipe a hand over my face. “While we’re here, we’re just a man and a woman who like being together.”
“But do we?” Angela bites her bottom lip. “Like being together?”
Another question I keep asking myself.
“We’ll have the answer to that after today, won’t we?”
“I guess we will.” She smiles shyly. “So, what do you want to do while we’re in our bubble of stolen time together?”
With anyone else, I’d be done with this conversation. I hate feeling like an idiot and the way she grins after saying “bubble of stolen time” makes me feel like she’s laughing at me. But, for her, it seems I’ve been given a bigger dose of patience.
“According to my sister, I don’t know how to have fun. We’re going to prove her wrong.”
The AC unit rattles, hisses, then falls silent as I reach for the door.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say the thing had a sick sense of humor.
Switching to the Arctic Freeze setting long enough for me to know what Angela’s breasts feel like pressed against my chest, then back to Desert Heat as soon as we leave.
“Ahh, yes,” Angela says with a laugh. “The very definition of a good time. Showing loved ones they don’t know as much as they think they do.”
The door slams closed behind us as a family emerges from the room next to ours.
The little girl’s hair is slicked into a bun and she’s wearing too much makeup, a warm up suit, and a pair of fuzzy slippers.
Her mom has her nose buried in her phone and her dad’s gaze detours to my Angel’s ass. I arch a brow and he looks away.
Damn straight.
“I don’t see the problem here,” I say to her, still eyeing the dad who has no right to look at her like that. “Winning is very entertaining.”
“It is. Very. But, I don’t know, maybe you should have fun for the sake of it, rather than trying to prove a point?” Angela takes off down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder with that damn sparkle in her eyes. “Are you coming or what?”
Grumbling, I lengthen my stride to catch her.
The idea of chasing after a woman is…well…
it’s not very Garrett Cooper. We step outside together and I groan at the heat as I squint into the sun.
Damn these tropical locales. I thought a New England summer was bad, but this?
This is intolerable. A bead of sweat trails down my spine after a two-minute walk to my rental.
As we drive into Bliss, we chat about pleasantries, everything and nothing.
It’s the kind of chitchat I usually excel at, a little flirt, a dash of charm, no depth whatsoever.
But today I’m aware it’s empty. Pointless.
I don’t want to laugh about pop culture or comment on the weather.
I want to know what makes this beautiful woman tick, and I want to learn these things while tracing a finger along the delicate skin of her thigh, up…
under her skirt…and up some more until I find out if she’s still wearing white lace.