Hidden Away (KGI #3)(22)

“That sounds wonderful.” She even managed to smile as she said it.

Suddenly eager to be outside and enjoy an afternoon of freedom, she rummaged in the sack for the still-cold beer. She held up three bottles, all different, and raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

He grinned. “Pick one. I’m not particular.”

She shrugged and put one down on the counter. The rest she shoved into her fridge for later. Garrett picked up the beer and returned her questioning look.

“Not having one?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not much of a beer person, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.”

There was a lot in that one little word and her gaze sharpened. “What?”

“Just ah. You look more like a wine person.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You have this refined, elegant look about you. I bet you enjoy classical music, going to the opera, fine wine and fancy food.”

She flushed. “You think I’m a snob?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all. I don’t know you. Just a guess. Am I right?”

“Hmm, yes and no. I do love classical music, but can honestly say I’ve never been to an opera nor do I particularly desire to go. I do enjoy wine. White only. But as for food, I’m afraid I’m a burger-and-fry kind of girl.”

Garrett clutched his chest with his free hand and staggered back. “Be still my beating heart. You’re speaking my language. I make a mean hamburger.”

“So you think I’m elegant and refined? Is that a veiled insult?” she asked with a smile.

“No. I like elegant and refined. You look ... classic.”

“Well thank you. I think.”

“It was totally a compliment. You’re a beautiful woman.”

Her cheeks heated under his scrutiny and she looked away, suddenly self-conscious. She’d all but fished for the compliment and now she was embarrassed by how obvious she’d been.

Garrett reached around her for the platter of meat. “Can you get the door? I wouldn’t want to drop my beer.”

Sarah chuckled. “Oh the horror.”

She moved ahead of him to open the door and they both walked out onto the sun-warmed porch. It was an incredibly beautiful day. One she hadn’t had the chance to fully appreciate once her trip into town ended in disaster. She perched on the steps while Garrett put the meat on to cook.

A few seconds later, he sat next to her, stretching his long, tanned legs down the steps. He took a long swallow of his beer and sighed.

“It doesn’t get much better than this.”

She wanted to agree but couldn’t really. In other circumstances, yeah, this was truly paradise. She made a sound that could be construed as agreement and he glanced sideways at her as he lowered his beer.

“So what were you in town for this morning? Did you need something? I can always run back in for you.”

Surprised by his thoughtfulness, she shook her head. “I went by the bookstore to pick up a few books. I dropped them when the idiot attacked me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t even see them. I was too focused on you.”

“It’s all right. Maybe I’ll go get some more in a few days. If I ever get the courage to leave my cottage again.”

He reached over to where her hand rested on top of the step and covered it lightly. “You’ll be fine.”

When he left his hand there, she edged it sideways until her hand came free. She brought it up to her lap and laced her fingers into a tight ball. She tried to imagine how she might have responded to Garrett a year ago. Would she have encouraged him? Would she have flirted and flashed him playful smiles?

It was hard to remember acting so freely with a man. For the past year, she’d been consumed with self-preservation, and for her that meant avoidance. But avoidance hadn’t done anything to stop the shame, the frequent anxiety attacks or the sleepless nights. There were days she couldn’t remember what her life had been like before ...

You can say it, Sarah. You were raped. You were violated. You were attacked by someone you trusted.

Her lips wouldn’t form the syllables but it screamed through her head until she shook it from side to side to rid herself of the word, which was as brutal as the act.

And here she sat, next to a stranger. Someone she didn’t know from Adam. Someone she didn’t trust and knew nothing more than that he was here recovering from a bullet wound. If someone she had trusted could do something so horrible, how could she possibly believe that a complete stranger wouldn’t do the same?

CHAPTER 8

SENSING her tension, Garrett got up and needlessly went to turn the meat. He piddled at the grill longer than necessary and took the time to watch Sarah. He’d made a mistake touching her, but found that he was unable to resist the urge to offer comfort. Comforting women was something entirely alien to him. That was something his brothers were far more adept at. He was lovey with Rachel—okay, and now with Sophie. Maybe he wasn’t a complete failure when it came to women, but it didn’t mean he understood them either.

What he did know of Sarah in turns pissed him off and made him hurt. There just wasn’t an excuse for hurting a woman. Ever. It was the one thing designed to infuriate him above all else. And Sarah had been hurt. He knew it. He felt it. Saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him.