Ready For You (12 page)

I’d spent half my childhood in the garage with my dad helping him fix things around the house. We’d both stroll in around dinner, covered in sawdust or grease, but we’d be grinning from ear to ear after a hard day’s work. Those were some of my favorite memories as a child, and it had been why I went into architecture. I’d wanted to get dirty and create something. I had known I would have to go into an office, but I’d also be able to visit construction sites and wear a hard hat as I watched my designs become a reality.
 

But I’d deserted my dream and settled.
 

Being a salesman to uppity doctors is fun—said no one ever.
 

Opening the bathroom door, I dropped my bag in the living room and made my way to the kitchen. Mia was inspecting the food I’d brought. I figured she hadn’t eaten, and even if she had, I hadn’t. I’d put in twelve hours at the office, and I had barely stopped for lunch. I was starving.

“Burritos today?” she asked.
 

“Yep. I figured you haven’t eaten, but if you have, I’ll gladly eat both of those,” I said with a grin.

She gave me a doubtful look as she pulled the two monstrous burritos out of the bag. “There is no way you could eat both of these.”

“Oh, I bet I could.”

“That’s gross.”

“I’m a guy. We’re inherently gross,” I said with a shrug.

She laughed, and the sound made me smile. I liked making her laugh. I always had. It had once been my goal to make her laugh at least five times a day. She had the best laugh.
 

We polished off our burritos. Well, she had eaten half of hers, and I’d eaten the rest. She’d watched in slight horror as I’d downed one-and-a-half burritos without much fuss.

After cleaning up the small mess from dinner, we started in on the floors again. Mia had chosen a hearty oak flooring that went with the historical nature of the home. It was very similar to the original floor, minus the smell and damage.

We began in the living room and put down the underlayment. She watched as I cut and fit the pieces together. She would help when they needed to be taped together.
 

We did most of this in silence, but we did occasionally strike up a conversation about random things. She asked about my parents and how my sister had met her husband. I asked how she’d ended up in Atlanta, and I got a vague nonanswer that involved something about a job.
 

“Mia, why won’t you talk about your past?”

“What? I am. I just did.”

I put down the cutting tool I was using and drew my gaze upward until we were eye level. “No, you skirted around the question and gave me a bullshit answer. Did someone hurt you? Are you running from something or someone?”
 

She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. There’s just not much to tell.”

I let it go, but I knew she wasn’t telling me everything. She couldn’t have been gone for eight years without some sort of story. Someone doesn’t leave for that long without having a little baggage following behind.

We worked for several more hours, well past midnight, and we managed to get the floor put down in the living room. When the last board was locked into place, she jumped up and clapped.

“Oh my God! It’s freaking gorgeous! It actually looks like a living room!”

“It does,” I said. “We just need to put the trim down, and it will be done. But I’ll wait to do that at the end.”

“Thank you so much, Garrett. I don’t know how I would have done all this without you.”
 

“You would have ended up hiring someone,” I said with a grin.
 

“Probably,” she agreed.

We picked up the tools and cleaned up a bit. Both of us needed to get to bed. I was looking at getting only a few hours of sleep. I needed to get home, but that didn’t stop me from dragging my feet as I headed in the direction of the door.
 

“How many days do you think we have left to finish it all?” she asked.
 

I picked up my duffel bag and rocked back on my heels, not wanting to leave. “Probably another week to finish the downstairs completely. That reminds me…I have a business trip in two days. I have to fly up to New York for a couple of days to meet with a few clients. I’ll be back after that. I just didn’t want you to wonder why I wasn’t showing up,” I added quickly, not wanting her to think I was expecting her to worry about me.
 

Would she?

Loser. I am a loser.

“Oh, okay. Have fun, I guess,” she said awkwardly. “Are you going to be in the city for the weekend, too?”

“I hadn’t planned on it. It’s not really fun when you’re alone.
 
I’ve been there tons of times anyway with my family.”

“Right.”

“You’ve been to New York City, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Yes.” She nodded, looking down at her shoes. “When I was younger. My parents always had functions there, so we would stay at these beautiful, fancy hotels. My mom would hire a babysitter to stay with me while they went out to parties and formal events.”

I gave her a hard stare. “You haven’t really been to New York then. You’ve just been on the inside of fancy hotels. It doesn’t count. You missed out on all the fun things.”

She shrugged and gave me a small smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Come with me,” I said without thinking.

“What?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Come with me. I won’t be much good during the day when I’m working, but at night, we can hang out. We’ll spend the weekend there, and I’ll take you to all the places you missed out on as a kid.”

She looked uneasy as her gaze appraised me.
 

“Just as friends, I promise. We’ll even get separate rooms.”

“Can we go to the Statue of Liberty?” she asked shyly, her eyes taking on a rounder appearance.

It reminded me of the girl I’d met in homeroom so long ago.

“Whatever you want, Mia.”

Her smile spread into a megawatt grin, and my knees almost buckled. I’d spent years dreaming of that smile and the way it made my heart falter and kick-start into a gallop. Now, she was looking up at me with the same wide-eyed smile.
 

“Deal,” she said.

I was done for.
 

Chapter Nine

~Mia~

“Don’t pack those! Ugh, why do you even own underwear like that?” Liv asked in outright disgust as she threw my cute hot-pink-and-lime-green boy shorts on the floor. Then, she started rummaging through my top drawer.
 

Sam raised his head from his place on the bed and lifted an ear, but he quickly lost interest and relaxed back into the comforter.
 

“What is wrong with boy shorts?”
 

“Nothing—if they are covered in lace or crotchless. But these are neon and have words on the butt. Seriously, Mia? Did you shop in the juniors section for these?”

Yes, yes, I did.
I chose to ignore that question to save myself the humiliation that would follow.
 

She continued to ransack my drawer in search of God-only-knows-what until I heard an excited, high-pitched noise escape her throat.

“Yes! These! Pack these!” she said, throwing several lacy thongs in my suitcase.
 

“Liv! This is not a sexy weekend away with my boyfriend. I will not need thongs.”

“No, it’s a weekend with your ex-boyfriend, who you secretly still have a thing for. Pack the thongs.”

My mouth gaped open as I stared at her blankly. She grinned back and did that annoying thing with her hip that made her look like a teenager from the Valley.
 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I fumbled.

“Uh-huh. You’re a terrible liar.”
 

“Why is everyone so hung up on my love life? Why can’t you concentrate on your own?” I huffed.

“Oh, I do—a lot,” she said with a grin.

After coming home, I’d quickly figured out that my best friend had adopted a very casual definition of
relationship
. She’d said she hadn’t found the right one yet, and she really had no interest in ever doing so, but she loved taste-testing and sampling the variety. She would do this often. The few weeks I’d lived with her, I’d done so with headphones and a pillow over my head. Her
samplings
would get pretty loud.

“We’re just friends,” I said adamantly.

“Right. About that—I thought he hated you.”

I thought back on the last several weeks with Garrett since I’d arrived back in Richmond. It had been a constant roller coaster of hot and cold. I had no idea what was going on.
 

“He did. Maybe he still does. I don’t know. But we’re trying to be friends.”

“Friends. Right,” she said with sarcasm.

I threw a pair of boy shorts at her, and she ducked and screamed.
 

“Come on, would you help me? He’s going to be here in a few minutes, and I’m not done yet!”

Her butt shifted into gear finally, and we managed to have everything packed right as the doorbell chimed, announcing Garrett’s arrival.

“I’ll go get it!” she sang. She hopped down the stairs toward the door with Sam following behind her.

I rolled my eyes as I lugged my suitcase behind me.

By the time I reached the foyer, Liv was already rattling off questions faster than Garrett could comprehend them.

“Where are you guys going? Where are you staying? Have you booked tickets to the Statue of Liberty? I hear it’s hard to get tickets. Have you thought about restaurants?”

His eyes were starting to bug out of his head, and he nervously tugged at the back of his head as he looked around the room for sanctuary. “Oh, look! There’s Mia! Looks like we’ve got to go! Don’t want to miss our flight!” he said in one quick breath.

I giggled a bit under my breath.

“Hmm…okay. Well, you two have fun,” Liv said, giving me a quick wink.

I avoided rolling my eyes, and instead, I gave her directions for Sam, pointing to the bag of food, his leash, and his toys that I’d laid out next to the door.
 

“Okay, okay, Mom. I’ve got it. Come on, Sammy Boy!”

Sam came wagging his tail, and she hooked him on the leash. Garrett helped her by lugging all of Sam’s stuff out the door and into the car. A few weeks ago, I would have never known dogs required so much stuff.
 
Within a few short minutes, he was back, and we were alone.
 

Garrett gave me an appreciative once-over and commented, “Nice dress.”
 

I’d decided to forgo my normal summer ensembles of shorts and a tank top, and I’d gone for something a bit nicer since we were headed for New York City. I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. So, I’d put on a flowery sundress that came about mid-thigh and accented my slim waist. I grabbed a sweater on my way out and threw it over my arm. Airplanes were notoriously cold, and my internal thermostat was permanently broken. I was always freezing.
 

“Thanks,” I answered shyly.

“You ready?” he asked.
 

I quickly nodded. Without asking, he grabbed my suitcase, and we made our way out the front door. I locked up as he packed the car, and we both hopped in at the same time.
 

I smoothed out the wrinkles in my dress and crossed my ankles nervously. I didn’t know why, but every time we had been together in a car, his presence seemed to multiply. His scent filled the small space, and I felt like I was drowning in his woodsy, masculine essence.
 

“I have to go directly to a client’s office before they close. I’ll drop you off at the hotel and check us in first, if that’s all right?”

“Yes, that’s great!” I said with a little too much enthusiasm.
Calm down, Mia.
 

He chuckled quietly. “Okay.”

We drove in silence during the short distance to the airport, and then we checked in without much fuss. I bit the inside of my cheek when the woman at the front counter recognized Garrett from his many business flights. She flirted with his mercilessly, and she didn’t give me the time of day until I had to hand over my ID. She gave it a passive glance and then handed it back before she continued her deep conversation with Garrett. He was polite and smiled, but I could see the loner in him was uncomfortable from all the attention.
 

“Nice to see you, too…” he started to say.
 

He looked at me in a panic. He didn’t know her name.
 

Darla
, I mouthed, catching her name tag out peeking out from under the lapel of her jacket.
 

“Darla!” he said quickly.
 

She gave a huge wave, and we exited in a hurry.

“Oh my Gawd, Mr. Finnegan, it’s
so
good to see you again,” I mocked, adding extra Southern sugar to my voice to mimic Darla’s sweet drawl.
 

“Shut up,” he said.
 

“She likes you.”
 

“I didn’t notice.”

“Not your type?” I joked.

“No.”

“No? So, what is your type, Garrett?” I asked as we passed through security.
 

What the hell was I doing? I didn’t want to know his type.
 

He stopped dead, right in the middle of the morning rush of passengers walking in both directions. He turned and gave me a hard stare, one that gave me goose bumps.
 

“I don’t have one—not anymore.”

~Garrett~

I’d been bringing Mia to this spot for a few months.
 

It was quiet, and the view was spectacular. The water from the river sparkled under the moonlight, and if we came at the right time, we could watch the fireflies spark and light up the night sky.
 

I hadn’t planned on it being our go-to make-out spot, but I wasn’t going to complain that it had worked out that way. I’d just turned sixteen, and freedom was now mine in the form of the car my father and I had painstakingly restored over the last year. I used that freedom to my advantage, and right now, I was enjoying that advantage to the fullest.