Hot Stuff

I shake my head to clear it. To bring myself back to reality. To remind myself that we have an audience here—albeit people we trust completely—and audiences have ways of seeing things and spreading them back to the places most wish they wouldn’t.

And my father still doesn’t know about us. It’s been a week since I promised Garrett I would be honest about our relationship with my family—specifically Jimmy Carroll.

A glorious mixed week of work, dates, sex, and fun. Without a doubt, getting to know Garrett has been more than I ever could have dreamed of and then some.

And not just because he’s so kick-ass in bed.

No, it’s a hell of a lot more than that.

For the first time in our history, we were afforded the opportunity to see each other for nearly five days in a row, and the amount of effort Garrett put into those days—well, it’s easily more effort than my brothers-in-law Pete and Phil have ever put into their marriages combined.

While I was at work, Garrett went to the grocery store to get the things we’d need for dinner and had it waiting in my apartment when I got home. We ate, enjoyed each other’s company, and then he drew me a bath and suggested I sit and soak while he did the dishes. He spoke to his kids as frequently as he could, dropping by their school to have lunch with them on more than one of the days, picked them up and took them to ice cream with us one night, and still managed to go for a run with Jake on the beach on all four mornings before bringing me coffee in bed.

The truth is, after this week, I’m swirling in a pit of gushiness I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to climb out of. And he wasn’t even here for the last two days of it. On Thursday morning, he got called out to a fire somewhere in Nevada, and today, right now, is the first time I’ve been able to see him since.

I track him with my eyes as he moves to the table of food Holley has set up, sets down the tray, and then goes back for another before repeating the action.

I feel a little bit like I’m in the middle of an awkward photo shoot where I don’t know what to do with my hands—only the thing I really want to do with them is touch myself inappropriately to visions of my really sexy boyfriend.

I tuck them into my pockets instead.

Garrett jogs back down the steps from the deck, and the curve of his mouth makes him look like he’s got a dirty secret. Factually, he probably has quite a few, but it’s a little disconcerting how sexy he can look just doing regular things.

A guy whose back is turned to me stops him when he reaches the bottom to say hello, and they bump fists like a couple of regular bros. Internally amused with myself, I shake my head.

Garrett glances back to me with a smile and grabs the guy by the elbow to bring him toward me. It’s only when he turns him around and they get close that I realize I already know who he is.

Garrett, obviously not realizing this, starts up the introduction.

“Hey, babe. This is Matt. He works for Jake.”

I smile. “Oh yeah. We’ve actually met already.”

Matt smiles. “Nice to see you, Lauren.”

“You too.”

Garrett’s eyebrows draw together, and apparently Matt can feel the change in the vibe of the air. He winks at me, smiles at Garrett, and then jogs up the stairs of Jake and Holley’s deck to hit up the cooler for another beer, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Garrett wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls my back to his chest, whispering in my ear, “So, when did you meet Matt?”

There’s a weird timbre to his voice that I’m not used to hearing, so I turn in the circle of his arms to face him. He doesn’t let me go far, instead keeping his arm around me just loosely enough that we can look each other in the eye. “When I saw Jake at dinner the week after our first date. Did Jake not tell you he saw me?”

He shakes his head. “No, he did. I guess I just wasn’t thinking about Matt being there.”

“We just said hello that night,” I say with a chuckle. “I didn’t give him a lap dance or anything.”

Garrett narrows his eyes, and I laugh harder. “Sorry, but come on. You’re just acting a wee bit jealous, and it was nothing. Literally nothing.”

“I’m acting jealous?” he asks genuinely. I have to reach up and cup his cheek, he looks so comically innocent.

“Yes,” I say with a slow, slightly patronizing nod. “In fact, I’m pretty sure Matt just left so fast because he didn’t want to get in the middle of an expected tiff.”