44. Garrett
GARRETT
It’s quiet as I lean my head against the back of the wicker chair, my feet kicked up on the side of the firepit as the flames lick into the air. I’ve ignored calls from Roan and Colt, making Theo run interference because I just can’t do it today.
There’d been a small part of me leaving Emerson’s office today that thought she might follow me out—that she’d shove my ring back on my finger and tell me to stop being an asshole for even considering going through with the divorce.
But my ring finger is bare, the weight of the band noticeably absent as I rub my thumb over the spot where it should be.
I liked being married.
But there was never anything temporary about it—not if I’m being honest. I fell hard and fast for Emerson. Her strength and passion were so incredibly addictive it feels like I’m going through withdrawals—and that’s not even including the sex.
Fuck, the sex was amazing.
Wild and out of control and more intimate than I ever thought possible. She changed me—took little pieces of me over time, so small I didn’t even notice.
Until she was gone and I’m left with this gaping hole inside me that will never be mended. It’s a hell of a realization as I sit alone with only the light from the fire to keep me company.
“The sign out front says you’re looking for a wife.
” The voice is smoky and familiar, the ache in my chest widening as Emerson appears beside me.
“But according to this,”—she gently waves the stack of papers in her hand before tossing them into the fire, the flames dampened for only a moment before the pages ignite and smoke billows into the sky—“you already have one.”
“Em, what—”
“I didn’t sign them.”
“I’m not sure it would’ve mattered if you did.” My lips twitch but I need her to come to me.
All the way.
“Could have been a stack of spreadsheets.”
“Was it?”
“No.” Slowly, she moves to stand before me still dressed in her work clothes, a blouse and slacks. “But you broke one of the rules.”
“I wrote you a song,” I confirm, looking up to meet her gaze.
“You wrote me a song,” she parrots, straddling my lap and flipping her dark hair over one shoulder, the light from the fire reflecting off something in her hand. “It was a good song.”
“Yeah?” My Adam’s apple bobs, my response barely a rasp as my heart beats wildly in my chest.
“I think it’s only fair that you should know I also broke one of the rules.” She tilts her head from side to side, her expression not giving anything away. “You broke one and I broke one…”
She trails off like she’s not giving me heart palpitations sitting on my lap, her perfume teasing me with every inhale and her mouth a breath away from mine.
It’s almost too much—having her this close and not being sure if I can touch her.
If I can taste her.
If I can be with her ever again.
“Which one did you break?” I manage, the words a whisper because I don’t trust my voice not to crack.
“I fell in love with you, Garrett North.” She says it like she’s looking at the weather forecast, completely nonchalant like I’m not reeling from that fucking admission. “Wildly unexpected and a little inconvenient, I might add…”
“Thanks,” I say with a wry grin.
“But I realized after you left that being tied down isn’t all that bad.”
“Em.” Impatience creeps into my tone.
“I’m still pissed, Garrett. I’m pissed that you blindsided me—that you made me feel like I had to perform on your timeline.” Vulnerability fills her eyes. “That wasn’t fair to me.”
“You’re right,” I admit, “and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“And thank you for coming back to me.”
“I was scared. But I was more scared of losing you.”
“Em.”
“Marry me, Garrett. Again. We can do it here, but my dad really wanted to walk me down the aisle, and call me crazy but I think I want to wear a dress and—”
I don’t let her finish, my mouth crashing over hers in a bruising kiss, her moan allowing me to push my tongue between her lips as I let the relief flood through my veins.
“Say it again.”
“Marry me.”
“Yes.”
She pulls back enough to open her hand, my wedding band resting in the center. Sliding it onto my ring finger, she grins. “I love you.”
“I love that you’re annoyed by that.”
“Seriously inconvenient,” she confirms. “I had everything all planned out and you had to ruin it with your devilishly handsome face, charming disposition, and ability to deliver award-winning orgasms.”
“And the song.”
“And the song.” Diving her fingers through my hair, she tugs at the strands and forces my head back as she presses her chest more firmly against mine. “I thought we could put a studio in my apartment in Chicago, and you could come stay with me. Split our time. Make a schedule.”
“And what if I go on tour?” I muse as she nips the underside of my jaw and rolls her hips against mine. Fuck, I missed her. “Will you come with me?”
“I think we can figure it out—I’ll just have to give Des another raise.”
“Fine. I’m just really fucking glad you’re home.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, and I think it would be romantic to make love to my wife considering she’s still my wife and she loves me…”
“But?” she murmurs, sucking at the sensitive skin behind my ear as her hands find their way under my shirt.
“But my wife would rather be fucked hard and dirty, so the rest will have to wait.”
Standing with her in my arms, I grin as she yelps before sighing as she kisses me with a reverence that slides the final piece of my soul back into place. Because there’s nothing at stake tonight.
No panicking when the sun comes up.
No strategy required to keep the narrative going.
Just me and the beautiful woman in my arms for the rest of our lives.