a Dom.”
She sighed. “Same difference.”
“Just let me take care of you, baby. The bath will help with some of the soreness.” He eyed her. “You didn’t bother to grab food on the way home from work, did you?”
Guilt flared, even though she had no reason to feel guilty. “I was getting to ordering dinner when this hulking Norse god showed up on my doorstep.”
He flashed a grin. “I suppose you can be forgiven. Takeout menus?”
It was one thing to have him dominate her in the bedroom, but this was something else all together. He was…taking care of her. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not, but she was too tired to fight him over something so silly. An argument for another day. “Top drawer by the fridge.”
He lowered her into the bath, checked the temperature again, and shut off the water. Ridley rolled onto her side and watched him move around her bathroom like he owned the place, getting two towels from the linen closet and setting them on the toilet and then eyeing her lotion collection. “This one.”
Warmth coursed through her, warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. It was the same lotion she’d favored in high school. How the hell did he remember that?
He disappeared out the doorway and she listened to him calling for Chinese. It was so strange. For all that she’d lusted after him for as long as she could remember, this part of what a relationship entailed had never entered into the equation. She wasn’t prepared to hand the reins over to Garrett in every aspect of life, but she had to admit it was kind of nice right this second.
Before she could wonder what he was up to, he reappeared. “Sit up.”
She obeyed and he slid into the tub behind her. Thank God she had put an extra-deep one into the loft when she bought it, or he never would have fit. As it was, they nearly lost half the water while they adjusted their positions. They ended up with her sprawled across his chest, her chin propped on her forearms. It put them kissably close, but she was too tired and sore to follow through on it.
“Tell me about Fashion Week.”
She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. “You don’t really want to know.”
“Tell me.”
Which wasn’t an answer, but he left no room for more argument. She shrugged and went for nonchalance. “It’s not in the main tent or anything, but it’s a foot in the door— if I can figure out the last few pieces to tie it all together.”
“You’re understating it.”
“Maybe a little. It’s just…it’s a big deal. A really big deal. If I start thinking about that too hard, it scares me.” She looked up and met his gaze. “What if I fail?”
He cupped her face, pulling her up for a kiss. “You won’t.”
Easy for him to say. Garrett had never met a challenge he didn’t dominate, and he ran around the world putting his life in danger for the greater good without blinking an eye. Of course he wouldn’t let himself be paralyzed by the threat of everything that could go wrong—he just walked in like he owned the place and expected everyone else to fall in line. “Some days I wish I had your confidence.”
“You do.” She frowned, but he kept going. “You’re one of the most confident people I know, but this is your passion, so it feels like there’s more on the line. It’s understandable…but you will succeed. And I’ll be there to see it.”
She shot him a look, even as her heart tried to stop. “Fashion Week is three weeks away.” And as far as she knew Garrett hadn’t stayed in New York for more than seven days since high school.
“What’s your point?”
He knew what her point was. He was just being difficult. She searched his face, his expression giving nothing away. “Won’t you be off crawling through some godforsaken part of the world by then?”
“I might be back in time.”
Back. Meaning he was leaving before then. Even though she’d suspected as much, she couldn’t
She sighed. “Same difference.”
“Just let me take care of you, baby. The bath will help with some of the soreness.” He eyed her. “You didn’t bother to grab food on the way home from work, did you?”
Guilt flared, even though she had no reason to feel guilty. “I was getting to ordering dinner when this hulking Norse god showed up on my doorstep.”
He flashed a grin. “I suppose you can be forgiven. Takeout menus?”
It was one thing to have him dominate her in the bedroom, but this was something else all together. He was…taking care of her. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not, but she was too tired to fight him over something so silly. An argument for another day. “Top drawer by the fridge.”
He lowered her into the bath, checked the temperature again, and shut off the water. Ridley rolled onto her side and watched him move around her bathroom like he owned the place, getting two towels from the linen closet and setting them on the toilet and then eyeing her lotion collection. “This one.”
Warmth coursed through her, warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. It was the same lotion she’d favored in high school. How the hell did he remember that?
He disappeared out the doorway and she listened to him calling for Chinese. It was so strange. For all that she’d lusted after him for as long as she could remember, this part of what a relationship entailed had never entered into the equation. She wasn’t prepared to hand the reins over to Garrett in every aspect of life, but she had to admit it was kind of nice right this second.
Before she could wonder what he was up to, he reappeared. “Sit up.”
She obeyed and he slid into the tub behind her. Thank God she had put an extra-deep one into the loft when she bought it, or he never would have fit. As it was, they nearly lost half the water while they adjusted their positions. They ended up with her sprawled across his chest, her chin propped on her forearms. It put them kissably close, but she was too tired and sore to follow through on it.
“Tell me about Fashion Week.”
She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. “You don’t really want to know.”
“Tell me.”
Which wasn’t an answer, but he left no room for more argument. She shrugged and went for nonchalance. “It’s not in the main tent or anything, but it’s a foot in the door— if I can figure out the last few pieces to tie it all together.”
“You’re understating it.”
“Maybe a little. It’s just…it’s a big deal. A really big deal. If I start thinking about that too hard, it scares me.” She looked up and met his gaze. “What if I fail?”
He cupped her face, pulling her up for a kiss. “You won’t.”
Easy for him to say. Garrett had never met a challenge he didn’t dominate, and he ran around the world putting his life in danger for the greater good without blinking an eye. Of course he wouldn’t let himself be paralyzed by the threat of everything that could go wrong—he just walked in like he owned the place and expected everyone else to fall in line. “Some days I wish I had your confidence.”
“You do.” She frowned, but he kept going. “You’re one of the most confident people I know, but this is your passion, so it feels like there’s more on the line. It’s understandable…but you will succeed. And I’ll be there to see it.”
She shot him a look, even as her heart tried to stop. “Fashion Week is three weeks away.” And as far as she knew Garrett hadn’t stayed in New York for more than seven days since high school.
“What’s your point?”
He knew what her point was. He was just being difficult. She searched his face, his expression giving nothing away. “Won’t you be off crawling through some godforsaken part of the world by then?”
“I might be back in time.”
Back. Meaning he was leaving before then. Even though she’d suspected as much, she couldn’t
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