CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Garrick
There’s no time to brush my teeth or wash my face. I need to get in this bed and fall asleep before Blue gets in here and I do something dumber than almost kissing her.
Thank God my big brain kicked in at the last moment.
I cannot get physical with my fake girlfriend, who is also the mayor. I can’t work with her after I’ve seen her naked. And what if she falls for me?
Although, moving my business to Sugar Valley is an option now… No, I’m not going to risk my business just to get to see Blue naked. To slide into her heat, feel her undulate beneath me…
And now I’m hard. Shit. Fuck.
I strip down to my boxers, get into the double bed, and pull the comforter over my head. We would have more guest bedrooms in this house if my siblings weren’t all refusing to move out.
Which is exactly what my parents want.
I roll to my back, unable to get comfortable. My parents always get what they want.
And the fact that I’m even considering moving Evergreen Expeditions here means they’re way too close to getting what they want from me.
My hands fist as anger vibrates through me. Will they never stop manipulating me?
I don’t care what Blue thinks, she will never understand what it is to have a big, happy family who all find me lacking. Who will pull whatever strings necessary to win.
I need to get back to Yuletide and focus on my business. I do not need to move close enough for my parents to meddle in my life.
I flip onto my side and stare at the wall. Sleep. I need to be asleep when Blue gets here.
She should have been here already.
Maybe she decided to sleep on the couch and avoid me altogether. Perfect. That’s the best solution for both of us.
I flip onto my stomach, face pressed into the pillow. I’ll just wake up early and bring her back here so my family doesn’t find her on the couch.
It shouldn’t be any problem for me to wake up early. I’ve always been a morning person.
I listen for the sound of Blue’s footsteps on the hardwood floors. Nothing.
What if I don’t wake up in time? Most of my family are also early risers and a few of them are still in the stay-out-all-night creep-in early phase.
I don’t know how my siblings can stand to still live at home. They’ve never complained to me about our parents’ meddling, so maybe they like it.
Hudson claims he’s just saving up to buy his own place, but he’s got his own separate entrance to the house, as do all my siblings, and his suite has a kitchen and a sitting area.
He’ll probably move his wife in if he can ever find anyone to marry him.
With a sigh, I kick off the comforter, roll out of bed, grab my robe from the hook in the bathroom and hurry through the chilly house back to the parlor, where I expect to find Blue curled up on the couch.
“Come on, Blue,” I say before I’m all the way in the room. “I was joking. We can share the bed.”
Except Blue’s not on the couch. She’s not anywhere in the room. I even check behind the curtains in case she’s hiding, but she’s nowhere to be found.
What the hell kind of game is she playing? If this is another one of her pranks, I’m taking her back to Yuletide tonight.
God, I hope it’s another one of her pranks.
My parents’ house is huge and dark, and Blue could be anywhere. Most likely, she’s somewhere waiting to pour something disgusting on my head or to jump out and scare the shit out of me.
I should go back to bed. She’ll get bored and come to bed eventually, right?
I’m stepping out of the parlor, intent on doing just that, when Blue’s laughter rings out from the East wing of the house. What the hell is she doing over there?
And then it occurs to me exactly what she might find funny in that part of the house.
“Ah, shit.” I never should have brought her here.
I take off at a sprint, my bare feet slapping on the chilly wood floors. Maybe she’s laughing at my mother’s collection of stuffed animals in dresses or my father’s pen and ink drawings of the mountains. They’re terrible. We all know they’re terrible, but my father thinks they’re masterpieces, and no one has the heart to tell him the truth.
But Blue’s not in the den of terrible artwork and anthropomorphized stuffed animals. Nope, she’s in the portrait gallery. Just as I feared.
“The paintings aren’t accurate,” I say. She’s standing in front of the most horrible depiction of me ever created. “The artist hated me.”
She turns to look at me, her expression one of absolute delight.
She is so fucking beautiful all the time, but when she’s truly happy, her eyes lighting and her shoulders relaxing, she’s breathtaking. She’s the kind of woman any man would be an idiot to walk away from.
I’m drawn to her against my will. I cross the room just to be closer to her, to be encompassed by her joy.
When I’m standing next to her, our shoulders brushing, I look at the painting in front of us. I’m dressed in exact imitation of the lead singer of the boy band Below Fahrenheit, even down to my hairstyle and the eyeliner on my lids. “I was six and easily influenced.”
“Uh-huh,” she says. “You don’t look six. And Below Fahrenheit’s first album came out in two thousand and three. Unless you’re a year younger than me, you weren’t six in this picture.” She narrows her eyes. “And according to your driver’s license, you’re a year older than me.”
I sigh. “Fine. I was ten. This was my Halloween costume.”
She snorts. “Try again.”
I face her to distract her from the painting, or maybe just because I want to be closer to her. “I was a fan for a few months. It was a tactic to pick up girls.”
She rolls her eyes and shifts to face me. “At ten?”
“I was advanced for my age. All the girls loved that guy.”
She shrugs. “Okay.” She moves along to the next painting, which is of my sister Maisey in the gown she wore to win the local beauty pageant for tweens.
Under her breath, Blue sings softly. The tune is familiar and, before I realize what I’m doing, I’m singing along.
She spins on me. “Ha! Not a fan?”
Shit. That was a Below Fahrenheit song. I’d like to claim I was distracted by Blue being so close to me, but the truth is I’m probably the band’s biggest fan ever. “So I know a couple of their songs. Everyone does.”
“That wasn’t even a song that got regular radio play. You’d have to own the album to know that one.”
“I dated a girl who had the album. We made out to the songs.” I don’t care anymore if Blue finds out I’m a fan. I’m just having fun with this game. We’re standing so close now I’d only have to tilt my head the slightest bit to catch her lips with my own.
Blue frowns exaggeratedly. “That must have been torture. Their music is the worst.”
That I can’t let stand. “Their music is hugely underrated. Especially their later stuff. Holding Hands in the Lilies should have been a classic, but everyone had stopped taking them seriously by the time it came out.”
Blue pops onto her toes and pokes me in the chest with one perfectly manicured finger. “Ha! I knew it! You’re a huge fan. Probably the biggest fan they ever had.” She shakes her head. “A fan of paranormal romance and Below Fahrenheit? What would people in Yuletide say if they knew?”
I grab her finger and lean in closer. Her eyes go wide and her breath catches. “You’re a fan, too,” I say. “Only a fan would know Rocking Cradle Baby Bye.”
Her top lip curls. “Is that actually the title of that song?”
I put a hand on her waist and, when she doesn’t twist away, I pull her against me. “You know it is.”
When she opens her mouth to argue, I bend and kiss her.
She hesitates long enough that I pull away, sure I’ve mistaken the moment. I’m already thinking it’s for the best and I never should have kissed her when she grabs the back of my head and pulls me down to her.
Blue doesn’t mess around with gentle closed-mouth kisses. She dives straight into me and I’m right there with her, kissing her back like I’m starving for her.
I feel like I am. Like I’ve been wanting her for months instead of minutes.
And then my brain turns off and I’m just feeling. My hands exploring her perfect curves, sliding under her sweater to feel her smooth skin.
I may have been wild in my younger years, but I’m beyond careful as an adult. I don’t lose myself to anyone, not even the one-night stand tourists.
But I want to get lost in Blue.
She leaps onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and keeps kissing me. I’m so hard it’s almost painful and I shift her down just enough to give us both some relief.
She groans into my mouth and tilts her hips to get just the right angle until I’m the one groaning. God, she feels so good.
I need to get us to a bed, immediately.
No sooner do I have that thought than she leaps off me. She lands on her feet, panting, her lipstick smeared, her hair a mess, her eyes wide and almost black with how dilated her pupils are.
I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
“We can’t do this,” she says. “I’m the mayor and you’re the asshole trying to run me out of town.”
“I’m not trying to run you out of town right now. I like you here.” My voice sounds rough to my own ears.
“And if the council finds out we’re sleeping together, it’ll just give them one more reason to think I’m unfit. They’ll say I’m only backing your request for permits because we’re sleeping together. They’ll say I’m trading sex for favors.” She tilts her head back. “Or favors for sex.” She runs her hands through her hair, trying to fix it and only making it worse. “You know what I mean.”
“We aren’t in Yuletide. No one has to know what happens here.”
She takes a step back. “That only works if you think what we do here will be enough for you. Men always want more from me.”
I love a challenge. “I can guarantee I won’t want more from you.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not saying you’re going to fall in love with me, tough guy. I’m saying I have a magical vagina. It’s addictive.”
She has a what? I snort, then laugh. “I can promise you, I won’t get addicted.”
She shrugs, her eyes alight with mischief, her lips fully kissable. “I’m not willing to take that chance.”
I do not push sex on anyone. Consent is sexy as hell and I don’t touch a woman unless she’s enthusiastically consenting. “Okay. I’ll keep my hands and my lips to myself. Shall we head to bed?”
She grins and I’m very glad I threw on a robe before I came down here so she can’t see what she does to me, even from a few feet away. The woman with the ‘magical vagina’ doesn’t need the ego boost.
“I’d rather have a tour of your family portrait gallery than go to bed.”