Home > Ready for You (Ready #3)(22)

Ready for You (Ready #3)(22)
Author: J.L. Berg

My stomach started to grumble right around the time Sam’s ears perked up. He jumped up and started barking seconds before the doorbell went off. I guessed Garrett was right about one thing. No one would be able to get past Sam.

I glanced down at my watch and realized dinnertime had long since passed, and it was now eight o’clock. A quick sweep around the room proved I hadn’t done nearly enough. There were still several boxes to go through, and the ones I had opened up just made more of a mess. I had hoped to find places for some of this, so when the floors went down, I’d have less to move around. I was starting to think that was a really stupid idea.

I brushed my hands back and forth on my black yoga pants, trying to get rid of some of the dust that had accumulated there, and I went to join Sam at the door. He was jumping up and down and wagging his tail like it was Christmas. Dogs had the best enthusiasm. Humans could learn a thing or two from our four-legged companions. There was very little left on this earth that brought such excitement to our faces.

I opened the door, and I really shouldn’t have been surprised by what I found. Garrett was standing in his work clothes, holding a bag of takeout and a duffel bag.

“Are we having a sleepover?” I asked, pointing to the large bag slung over his shoulder.

His lip twitched. “No, I brought clothes to change into. Can’t lay down floors in a suit.”

“Who said anything about laying down floors tonight? It’s late.”

He let himself in, which was quickly becoming a habit of his, and breezed past me. He dropped the bags of food and his duffel on the kitchen counter and turned. “It’s late? How old are you?”

I folded my arms over my chest and gave an exasperated sigh. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow,” I said.

“So do I. In fact, I bet I have to wake up earlier.”

“Do not,” I challenged.

“Mmm…do so.” He leaned against the counter and mimicked my stance, folding his arms over his broad chest.

On me, it was pouting. On him, it was anything but, and it was super sexy.

“Ugh, you are infuriating! What time do you have to be up, smartass?”

“About four.”

“In the morning?” I squeaked.

“Yep.” He shrugged.

“Why so damn early? Don’t you have an office job?”

He adjusted his stance and shrugged off his jacket. He started loosening his tie, and I watched with fascination.

“Well, smartass, I like to go to the gym in the morning. No one else really does, so it’s quiet that early. And yes, I have an office job. I like to get into the office before everyone else, so I usually show up around six.”

He pulled off his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt.

The whole process, watching him slowly take off his tie had been mesmerizing. I didn’t want him to stop. Why did he stop?

He looked at me expectantly.

He’d said something, hadn’t he?

I realized I’d been staring at those open two buttons longer than socially acceptable, and he’d noticed. His lips curled into a grin, and he’d been waiting to see how long it would take for me to come back from whatever fantasy I’d just inserted myself into.

“You sound kind of like a loner,” I finally said. I was very proud of my little rebuttal.

“I’m just picky about who I spend my time with, I guess.”

“Sounds like a loner.”

“Coming from the girl who’s spending her evenings with her dog,” he shot back before picking up his duffel and taking off toward the bathroom.

“At least it’s someone!” I yelled.

Lame comeback. Good job, Mia.

“Well, friend, I guess it’s a good thing I have you now, isn’t it?” he said with a wicked grin over his shoulder.

He disappeared behind the door, but he didn’t lock it. That hadn’t gone unnoticed to my very attuned ears.

I stared at the closed bathroom door and shook my head. Oh, Garrett Finnegan, what are you up to?

~Garrett~

I had no idea what I was doing.

I leaned my hands against the tiled sink and stared into the bathroom mirror, shaking my head in disgust.

I’d strutted in here like I had a plan. I had no plan beyond wanting to spend every second with her. As I’d been lying in bed last night, I’d replayed every moment of the weekend, and then I’d come to terms with my new obsession.

I was completely infatuated with Mia Emerson.

The beautiful ghost with the mesmerizing blue eyes who had haunted my dreams for so long had come to life, and I couldn’t stop myself from returning to her doorstep each and every day.

I had no plan, but I knew I couldn’t walk away.

I was a fool to think we could be friends, but I needed to try. I wanted to be everything and anything but friends with Mia, and the fact that she still sent me into a tailspin after all these years pissed me off. Even through all the agony and hurt, I still wanted her. Despite the fact that I blamed her for the hell of my existence, I still craved her like no other.

I was at war with my own emotions, and I had no idea which side would eventually win.

I’d spent so long curled up with anger and betrayal as my only bedmates that I didn’t know if I knew any other way.

Tossing my work clothes into the duffel, I zipped it up and threw the bag over my shoulder. Now dressed in worn jeans and a white T-shirt, I was ready for manual labor. I hated wearing ties and dress shirts. I was the type of man who liked to get his hands dirty. Give me jeans and a T-shirt any day.

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.

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