Ready for You (Ready #3)(50)
“How did you find out?” I asked quietly.
“You were never good at hiding things, Garrett,” she answered.
“The note.”
She simply nodded. “I wish you had come to us. I knew you were hurt and grieving, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I was afraid if I said something, you would lash out and tell me I didn’t trust you. I was so scared, Garrett.”
“She aborted our child, Mom,” I whispered.
“She was eighteen, Garrett. Have you ever asked her about it?”
“No, I can’t. I don’t want to know the details. I couldn’t live with that,” I said, shaking my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of finding that note and realizing Mia had made that monumental decision—without me. I’d had no idea of where she was, no way of saving that little life Mia and I had created. She had taken that away from me.
“The two of you need to talk about this—maybe not now but soon. I saw the way you looked at her at the funeral. Whatever you think you can’t forgive, you can.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how, Mom. I love her, but every time I see her, all I see is the past.”
She gave a faint smile and reached for my now empty hand. “Reach into the past and remember the reasons you fell in love. Hold on to that, son, and cherish it. Then, you must start moving forward again.”
Chapter Seventeen
~Garrett~
Letting out a huff of breath I’d been holding since the purr of the engine had died down at the curb, I pushed the doorbell and waited.
How many times had I found myself back at this exact spot, standing on Mia’s doorstep, after I’d sworn I would never return?
How many times did I have to stare at the front of this door, waiting for her face to appear, to realize I’d keep coming back, week after week, day after day?
An enthusiastic bark from inside came barreling toward the front door, and I heard a familiar giggle.
“Hold on, psycho!” Mia laughed, her voice carrying.
She flipped the lock and pulled the door open to find me on the other side, holding flowers like a dork. As her eyes took in the gargantuan bouquet I was balancing with the bag of groceries, I stole a moment to sweep my gaze down, focusing on her every delectable inch. My fingers twitched to touch her again.
“Um…hi,” she said awkwardly.
“Hey,” I responded, finally meeting her gaze.
She looked at me expectantly and shifted on her bare feet.
Oh, right, the flowers. “My mom wanted me to drop these off for you,” I said, handing over the flowers. “She has about a million bouquets sitting around the house, and she hates the idea of them going to waste, so I’ve been playing delivery boy for most of the afternoon.”
“Oh,” she replied, realizing this was probably the only reason for my visit.
“I, uh…also brought groceries if you’re interested in dinner?”
Her eyes lifted, and I flashed her a quick grin.
“Okay,” she agreed, stepping aside to let me in.
The smell of her citrus-scented skin invaded my senses. I’d spent hours that night in my bedroom licking and kissing every inch of her body in an effort to commit it to memory. My memories hadn’t done it justice, and my body instantly wanted more.
Sam jumped up and down at my invasion into the house. He’d taken a liking to me ever since that day in the shelter, and the feeling was definitely mutual. After giving Sam his proper greeting, we wandered into the kitchen, so I could drop the bag of groceries. Mia started rummaging through her cupboards for a vase.
“Oh…looks like you’ve already gotten a flower delivery today,” I said, noticing a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table. I fingered a soft petal between my fingers, and then I noticed a card wedged among the many multicolored buds.
“Um…yeah,” she replied.
Mia,
Please come back.
Aiden
“Who’s Aiden? And why does he want you back?” I asked, feeling jealousy beginning to boil in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t even know who the guy was, but I didn’t like him. He wanted Mia to leave?
“Oh, um…Aiden was my boss. He really misses me and wants me to come back. He’s trying anything to get me return to my old job. It’s crazy really,” she answered with a hesitant laugh.
I eyed her suspiciously for a moment as she began to arrange the flowers in a vase.
What was she hiding? And why didn’t she trust me enough to tell me?
Like all mysterious things Mia had done these days, I let it go.
It shouldn’t be my problem.
We’d agreed on one night, and regardless of what my mom had thought, there were some things even love couldn’t forgive. Despite my best efforts to stay away, I couldn’t. Mia had a pull on me that was undeniable, but I would control how far it went.
Leaving the flower subject alone, I walked to the kitchen counter and helped with the groceries.
“What are we making?” she asked.
“Nothing fancy. I just picked up stuff for spaghetti and salad.”
“Okay, sounds great. Let me get the pot for the pasta.”
That was when my torture began.
She bent forward, wiggling, as she strained to pull out the correct pot from her tiny cupboard wedged in the corner of her ancient kitchen. I should have saved myself and looked away, but I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to her.