Chapter Seventeen
Garrett woke to the sensation of heat. And woman. And…arousal.
Blinking into the morning light that filtered in through closed plantation shutters, he angled his head to look at Jessie. She slept on his shoulder, her hair spilling over her cheek, one leg curled around his, denim against denim.
Should be skin against skin, he thought, his body responding to the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body. He considered turning, kissing, starting the dance, but something stopped him as he looked down at her face. Her eyelashes spread like brushes over creamy skin, her lips parted with silent, slow breaths.
In slumber, she looked totally…harmless. Utterly desirable on every level. But she was a wall-breaker, aptly named by her colleagues. He waited for a punch of regret, but there was none.
He wasn’t sorry he told her his secret last night. On the contrary, he felt unburdened for the first time since he signed the papers and annulled his brief, meaningless marriage. He shouldn’t have to hide his past and certainly had no desire to enter into a relationship with another woman and not be honest.
A relationship.
He’d always hated that word. It sounded cold and calculated and not at all what he wanted with Jessie Curtis. He wanted a connection. He wanted a union. He wanted a partnership.
He wanted love.
She took a quivering breath and blinked her eyes open, her gaze landing on his chest where her hand rested. He didn’t move yet, or speak, but watched as she slowly traced a circle over his heart and sighed softly.
What was she thinking?
After a second, she looked up, a little flash of surprise when her gaze met his. “You’re awake,” she whispered.
“Sort of.” He closed his hand over hers, threading their fingers. “What time did you come to bed?”
“Almost four.”
“You finish?”
“Yeah. You want to read it?”
“I don’t know. Do I?”
She pushed up, but he tightened his grip, holding her in place. “Later,” he said huskily, using their joined hands to bring her face to his. “Much later.”
“But I want you to read it.”
He grunted. “But I want you. Period.”
She smiled, pulling away with a little more force. “Read what I said about you first. Be sure.”
He moved against her. “I’m sure. See?”
But she slipped away and brought her laptop case back to the bed, sliding out the machine, and opening it. “You read. I’ll be in the shower. I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes.”
“There’s a good solution for that.”
She handed him the open laptop, a document on the screen. “Read. I’ll be back.”
Frustrated, he shifted his attention to the words in front of him, scooting up a little to make it easier to read and clear the sleep from his head.
When I first set eyes on Garrett Kilcannon, a multimillionaire entrepreneur who built a household brand on the strength of an idea, he was on his knees, hunched over a bowl of dog food. There, he gently coaxed a depressed rescue named Lola to take a bite of breakfast. The longer she refused, the more ragged his voice grew with frustration and concern. I think he would have stayed on the floor of that kennel all day and all night if that got Lola to take a single bite of food.
And really, that’s all you need to know about a man who, with nothing but imagination, talent, focus, and an abiding love for animals, gave the world a way to instantly capture and share poignant moments with pets. When he sold that idea and made a small fortune, he turned that same skill set to working with his family to build an elite canine training and rescue facility that answered another need for people who love and need dogs.
Garrett Kilcannon is a savior of sorts, a lover of strays, a rescuer of dogs…and people.
He closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself as her way-too-flattering words hit hard. The fact that she saw him that way did something to him he couldn’t quite understand or even believe.
No woman had ever gotten to that level with him; no one had even tried. Certainly not Claudia. No woman had ever bothered to look that deep or understand the drive behind PetPic and Waterford Farm. They assumed it was money, recognition, power—whatever drove other entrepreneurs.
He cleared his head and continued to read, marveling at her skill with words and ability to paint a picture. She perfectly captured the moment Dad had come down to the backyard and walked his six kids around the property, describing his vision, offering the idea and the land to them, literally and figuratively. She managed to grab the emotion of the day they opened the doors of Waterford Farm to the world, the thrill of each rescue and placement, and the spirit of family and friendship that permeated every inch of his business and world.
She drew a sketch that was better than how he saw himself. She described the man he wanted to be…the man she saw him as.
Sitting up, he closed the computer, the words almost too much for him. She’d broken down his walls and found something he didn’t even know was there.
Carefully, reverently almost, he eased the laptop back into its case and laid it on the floor.
“What do you think?” she asked, coming out of the bathroom.
He blinked at her, staring at her wet hair, dripping on her shoulders, the towel wrapped around her narrow frame, the clean, fresh face with a look of horror in her eyes. “Oh my God, you really hate it.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t.” He reached for her, but suddenly dropped his arm. Making love would change everything, he thought. It would seal everything. This wasn’t casual sex to celebrate a week of falling for each other. This meant something.
“Then what do you think?”
That he better figure out the best way to handle the problem…not that falling in love with Jessie should be a problem. But he’d sworn he’d never take the chance again. And yet, here he was, about to fall so hard.
“I think you’re a very good writer,” he said. “Far too kind. And really…insightful.”
She dropped a knee on the bed, the towel opening enough to give him a glimpse of bare thigh. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s scary.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not that great.”
“You’ve shared a lot. More than you realized, I think. And you are that great.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s a common reaction to reading something so personal. Most people haven’t had biographies written about them, and the first time you see yourself as the world sees you—”
“The world doesn’t see me like that.”
“I do.”
“I know. I felt that in every word.” He stared at her, nodding. “That’s…amazing.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly, slowly reaching out to her, wanting her more than his next breath. More than his fears. More than anything. “C’mere, Jessie. Or do I need to take a shower first, too?”
She moved closer. “You should have joined me.”
“I didn’t know that was allowed.”
Leaning closer, she held his gaze, her green eyes smoky with desire. “Everything’s allowed.”
He pulled her all the way across the bed, meeting her halfway for a long, sweet kiss. Walking his fingers over the cool, damp skin of her breastbone, he slid one hand under the towel to caress the rise of her breast.
Instantly, goose bumps rose on her arms.
He deepened the kiss and laid her back slowly, the towel spreading to reveal her thighs. He touched the soft skin, hissing a breath at the smoothness of it, fighting to keep his hands slow and steady as he explored her.
She wrapped her hands around his neck, holding tight to him. With one easy move, he opened the towel enough to see all of her, lifting himself a little higher to touch and look and kiss.
Arching toward him, she invited every move, trailing her mouth over his jaw and neck, pulling at his T-shirt to get it over his head. He broke the kiss, yanked his shirt off, and let out a groan of satisfaction as their bodies met.
She caressed him, lightly dragging her nails over his chest and down to the button of his jeans. Biting her lip, she unzipped, the sound and scents of sex filling his head and making him harder.
He hissed when she closed her hand around him and drew him out, pushing his jeans off with her other hand. “Oh,” she sighed appreciatively. “I definitely left out some of the good parts in that profile.”
He wanted to laugh, but the feeling of her stroking him emptied his brain of anything but pleasure. Raw, real need for more. “Different kind of story, I think.” He kissed his words into her throat, down her chest, suckling her nipple to a sweet point.
He touched everywhere and kissed the rest, stripping out of his clothes and digging out a condom he had, indeed, packed in his wallet on their first date.
When they were both naked, he slipped them back under the comforter, securing her in the pocket of intimacy, finally feeling that skin against skin he wanted so damn much.
He eased her under him, letting her legs wrap around him where they belonged.
“Jessica Jane,” he whispered, sliding himself right where he wanted to be, fighting the urge to pulse or pump until he told her exactly what was on his mind. He lowered himself to get closer to her ear, wanting to breathe the words into her. “Thank you.”
She pushed him back a little. “For having sex with you?”
“For breaking all those walls. For getting me. For seeing something I didn’t. For giving me a chance to trust someone again.”
She stroked his cheek, running her finger under his lower lip, studying his face. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “The pleasure is mine.”
“It’s about to be,” he promised, kissing her and sliding into the sweet pocket where he needed to be.
They started slow, easy, gentle. But friction built, and all that turned into fast, furious, and fierce. Each thrust took him closer to a place he couldn’t even remember being…lost in a woman he trusted. Every whimper from her throat, every clutch of her hands, every time she rocked and rolled and took him deeper, Garrett gave up more control.
Until he spun out and so did she, climaxing almost together, pulling more pleasure out of each other’s bodies, sweating and gasping and, finally, collapsing.
They lay taking ragged, syncopated breaths, silent for a long time until she finally eased him off her enough to see his eyes. “Long way from Manhunt in the kennels, huh?”
“You were a sweet kid, Jess,” he said. “But now you are an astounding woman. This is better.” He kissed her on the nose, then the lips. “And I already want more.”
She gave a disbelieving laugh, pulsing her hips where they were still joined. “You do?”
He meant more of her…more than sex…more than a ten-day fling. But something told him he shouldn’t freak her out by announcing that now. “Maybe not this minute,” he said. “But later today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon, then…”
She put her fingertips on his lips. “I get your drift. And the answer is yes.”
Yes to sex. He’d take it. Maybe it was all he’d get, but he’d take it.
She pushed again, this time with more effort, forcing him off her. “That’s my phone.”
He gave her a look. “Now?”
“It could be Mac.”
“It could be God Himself,” Garrett mumbled, grazing her hips and belly, wanting to hold her and live in this moment. “Call him back.”
“But he read the story.”
She wasn’t basking in any afterglow until she knew what her boss thought of the story. He lifted up. “Get it. Fast.”
She rolled to the nightstand to get the phone and check the screen. “Yep. Hold your breath and cross your fingers.” She tapped the phone. “Hey, Mac.” She squeezed her eyes shut as though waiting for a verdict. Even with the phone to her ear, Garrett could hear a man’s voice, spewing words nonstop, the tone rising as she sat back down on the bed, far more concerned with the call than her nakedness.
She was silent for a moment, then let out a peep of an “Oh!” and a little gasp and another squeak, and finally, she said, “Hold your horses, Mac.” She looked at the screen, touched the mute button, and threw her head back with a noisy, “Yessssssss!”
Laughing, he reached for her to celebrate with a hug and a kiss, which she took, but then pulled away, now clutching the towel in a half-assed attempt to cover her body. He watched her walk to the desk, grab a pen, and start taking notes.
“A videographer and photographer? This week?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, raising her eyebrows in question.
How could he argue with an almost-naked woman who’d just given him the best sex he could remember in…forever? “Sure.”
“Yes, I think we can make that happen. This week, at Waterford. Yes, yes. Oh, Mac. I got it? I got the anchor slot?” She turned and gave him a look of can you believe this?
Garrett responded with a thumbs-up. Three cheers for sending her back to New York.
“Oh yes. I love that idea. He’ll do that section of the interview on tape. Right?” She directed that question to Garrett and instantly caught her mistake. “I mean, right, I’ll ask him. When I see him. Later.” She gave Garrett a wide-open mouth of can you believe this? and he couldn’t do anything but smile at how damn happy she was.
This was her dream, her career, her chance. He knew what that felt like, and he shouldn’t try to drag her away from it because he liked her. A lot.
“Let’s talk about that, Mac,” she continued. “Because I can take that section any direction you like as long as we keep the essence of the Moses story when he fell out of that tree.”
The Moses story had an essence?
Sensing she’d be a while, he rolled off the bed and grabbed his T-shirt. Pulling it over his head, he checked his own phone to find a few messages from work and a missed call from a number he didn’t recognize.
It was almost seven thirty, and he needed to get to the dogs.
Bending over her, he planted a kiss on her hair.
“Oh, Mac. Hang on. One sec. Incoming call.” She tapped the screen again and looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not, but I might be. A videographer?”
She made a face. “Please?”
As if he’d argue. “Come see me at Waterford the minute you can. And by me, I mean Lola. She’s going to be pining.”
“I will. There’s some editing and polishing to do, and the videographer, which I’ve never done before, but I’ll…” She put a hand over her face. “This is all so new and so big and so important.”
If only she meant them and not her job. “I get it.” And he really did. He bent lower and kissed her on the mouth. “Whatever you need.”
She looked up at him, a shadow crossing her green eyes. “I need you,” she admitted, sounding a little defeated and terrified.
“You got me,” he assured her, kissed her again, and let her get back to work.