Another reminder that Nichole was in with his entire family. Including his great-aunt.
“It’s not like that,” he said again, though why he bothered he had no idea.
“So what’s it like, then, Big Brother?”
Did he really want to have this conversation? Only a glance into the back showed that both women, despite their respective teasing and maternal pats, were intent on getting the scoop. And maybe saying it out loud would help it finally sink in.
“I don’t want to marry her.”
Maeve barked out an indignant cough. “Geez, I didn’t realize she’d asked.”
Snide. Nice.
“She didn’t. Obviously. But—” Damn it, he’d wanted to get that critical tidbit out first, because it seemed important. But the way it landed he sounded like an ass. For more than one reason. Cue the clarifications. “I’m just trying to explain. It isn’t because she isn’t good enough. She is. I mean, I can’t believe either of those schmucks she was engaged to let her get away. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Trust me when I tell you I want to have her. Just not in the way she deserves.”
“It’s okay,” Maeve offered from the backseat. “You’ve had an overfull plate for a long time. And after Mom and Dad you have a hard time letting people in. Getting close. You aren’t ready to think about marriage yet.”
He bristled, not for the first time cursing Maeve’s freshman-year psychology class.
It wasn’t about letting people get close. Or what had happened with his parents.
True, he didn’t have a lot of people outside Jesse and his sisters he shared much of a bond with. But that had more to do with what his life had been like these last years than any avoidance on his part. And the connection with Nichole had been immediate. She was the person he’d become most comfortable talking to.
It was about things like this damn recurring conversation about Erin’s boyfriend. He’d been playing the “hard-ass” and making tough calls for over half his life already, and what he wanted out of a relationship was something where those kinds of responsibilities didn’t apply. Where the consequences of his actions and choices didn’t impact the rest of another person’s life.
Hell, just thinking about it had the muscles in his gut starting to knot.
“It’s not just yet. I don’t know if I’m going to want it ever. Which makes me a bum deal for a woman with ‘someday’ in mind.” His fingers tightened around the wheel. “Nichole’s been engaged twice. She’s a woman with a white picket fence dream just waiting to be realized.”
Maeve sat back in her seat, arms crossed in a contemplative pose. “I don’t know, Garrett. Yeah, she’s going to want to get married eventually. But I think for now Nikki just needs to learn how to have a little fun again. And from what I hear … you’re a pretty fun guy.”
He let out a humorless laugh, not feeling like much fun at all. “But not the guy for Nichole.”
They’d decided already. They weren’t going to pursue it. And the problem wasn’t just an off alignment of goals … it was also the little lady sitting in the seat behind him. It was the strings.
Maeve’s lips pursed as she stared him down.
“And you’re cool with that?”
“Yep.” No. But he’d get there.
“Just as well. There are a lot of fun guys out there. And her dance card is filling up anyway.”
Sure … right … wait—”What?”
Only Maeve seemed to have lost interest in him and turned to Gloria.
“So, yesterday two guys from her office asked her out. Within an hour of each other …”
Of course they had. Because she was gorgeous. And she’d probably had that smile going—the one that stuck with a guy for days after he’d seen it. The kind of smile that made a guy want to get to the bottom of what exactly put it there and make sure—
“And you know Nikki—she’s always with the flat-out forget it, but in that really smooth way she’s got. Probably because she doesn’t even realize it’s going on most of the time. But this time—”
A horn blared and Garrett jerked the wheel. Hell.
“Geez, Garrett. Take it easy. Precious cargo back here.”
“Sorry, girls.” He needed to get his head together. But, damn, Maeve needed to knock off the dish … or get to the point a hell of a lot faster.
Only now his great-aunt Gloria was tapping at the window. “Oh, would you look at this house?”
Maeve nodded her approval. “I love the landscaping.”
Garrett did a mental ten count, willing his heart rate to slow, his blood to cool. There was no way Maeve was going to leave them hanging, was there? And even if she’d seriously lost her train of thought how was it his aunt wasn’t demanding resolution?
“My roses never bloom like that. I’ve added eggshells, coffee grounds.”
“Maybe it’s got to do with the sun or how much water they get.”
“Nichole,” Garrett barked out, fast on his way to losing his cool. “What did she do?”
Silence from the back of the car. He checked the mirror and found both Maeve and Gloria staring at him. One looking quietly amused, the other looking … satisfied.
“What did she do when, Garrett?”
Molars grinding down, he shot a look at his baby sister he hadn’t been forced to use since she was sixteen. A look that seemed to have lost its mojo, based on the way she crossed her arms and jutted her chin at him.
“You mean with all the guys asking her out?”
Now it was all the guys? The steering wheel creaked within his grasp and he forced his grip looser. “Yes.”
Maeve checked her nails. “She hadn’t decided when I talked to her. But she did say a date might be just the distraction she needed.”
The car slammed to a stop and he stared out the windshield at his sister’s driveway. The front door opened and relatives streamed out to greet them, but Garrett just cranked around in his seat. “A distraction?”
Maeve blanched, leaning back in her seat as Gloria shuffled out of the car.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it … however it is you’re taking it.”
Except Garrett was damn sure she did. Which meant she was still as hung up as he was.
And she was about to look to another guy to distract her.
“Out of the car, Maeve.”
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. Knock, knock.
Nichole swallowed hard, her heart beating like the fist at her door.
Garrett.
Maeve’s single cryptic text had been the only warning. No explanation of what he wanted. No response when she’d texted back. And now, after two weeks of avoiding him, of lying awake at night thinking about the hard crush of his mouth and the low rumble of his voice, of telling herself just a few more days and she’d get past this physio-emotional chaos she’d never expected herself to be a part of, he was here.
She