Page 13 of Snake Eyes (Out of His League #2)

Charlie

“ G oddammit,” I whisper, catching sight of myself in the rearview mirror. My mascara is a wreck, cascading down my cheeks on a river of tears. I wipe it away before it dries, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as I follow Garrett’s truck home.

He insisted on going first. “In case there’s black ice on the road.”

I hate it. I hate that I’m not in there with him, happily chatting about our days, carrying on our little routine.

Instead, the arrival of my car back on the scene has cleaved us in two—and it’s only going to get worse from here on in.

The obstacles between me and my departure are toppling one by one.

I have my car back. The Halloween party is tomorrow, and Mikayla glowed with excitement when I mentioned Garrett was looking to find someone to take on the management of Snake Eyes permanently, immediately asking for more information.

What in the name of all that is holy possessed me to mention that? I might as well have packed my bags and handed her the keys.

Garrett’s truck turns off the main road, and I follow. His driveway carves out a path through the heavy woodland, our respective headlights catching sparkling glints of frost on the low bushes. More tears spill over my cheeks, so I bite down on my lip until it hurts, trying to distract myself.

I want to stay with Garrett.

There it is. The truth erupts from my chest. It’s lurked beneath the surface all night, waiting until I was alone before forcing its way out. The knowledge that I’m going to have to walk away from him breaks me—especially after last night.

I want to ask him how soon he wants me to leave. I want him to put me out of my misery and set a date, but then he’d actually tell me when to leave, when my heart is screaming that I want to stay.

I love Calgary, but it hasn’t been home for a long while. I was comfortable in Long Lake, but I wasn’t overly attached.

I fucking love Cedar Hills. I’ve never lived somewhere so small that it really is a close-knit community. Where everyone knows everyone in some capacity, be it friendship or familial. I swear I’ve gotten to know more people in my few weeks at Cedar Hill than the two years of living in Long Lake.

And despite Garrett’s tendency to be an introvert, I see him everywhere too. Every single person who comes into the bar seems to own something with his logo on it, be it their wallet, phone cover, jacket, gun holster. Hell, they even walk their dogs on leashes bought from him.

I think that’s what I love most about the town, seeing little pockets of Garrett wherever I look.

Floodlights ahead illuminate the single-story home, unfolding across the forest as we approach. Golden light spreads across the driveway like warm honey, bouncing off the hood of Garrett’s truck as we pull up .

My eyes whip up to the rearview mirror again.

I’ve managed to wipe away the worst of the mascara stains.

My eyes are bloodshot, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that now—other than furiously blink to try and clear them as I climb from the car, the crisp fall air slapping me across the face.

“How does it drive?” Garrett calls, shouldering his rifle. His eyes do a quick scan of our surroundings, as always.

“Great!” I beam at him, hoping my smile will draw attention away from my bloodshot eyes and wet eyelashes. Jeez, that was way too animated. Tone it down, Charlie.

He opens the front door with a singular nod and a jingle of his keys. The comforting smell of home curls around me as we enter; it’s a beguiling mix of hard wood, coffee, and Garrett , and I want to freaking roll in it like Hunter rolls in fox poop .

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Garrett heads to the kitchen to fix Hunter’s dinner.

There’s three of my propagation trays lined up along the wide windowsill, the tiny plants bursting into life; only the high humidity plants are missing, currently residing in Garrett’s bathroom.

Usually we’re mid-conversation by now. Instead, there’s only a painful silence, overlaid by the rattle of cutlery, and I can’t bear it.

“Garrett,” I whisper softly. My voice is barely audible, but he turns around instantly.

His expression is closed off as he places Hunter’s food on the floor. “Mmm?”

The words are on the tip of my tongue. I want you to ask me to stay. But I don’t want to tell him anything. I want him to want to ask me to stay. It’s his decision. His offer to make.

Instead, I rifle through my bag to find what I bought today. I pull out the slightly squashed box like I’m unsheathing a sword, placing it on the counter.

Garrett blinks at the box of condoms, the words latex-free front and center.

“ Soo ,” I begin, looping a loose blonde strand of hair around my finger. “Do you think these will be enough for one night?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, hiking my nerves up. His hand pats his breast pocket, before he too draws out an identical box and places it next to mine with a sly curve to his mouth. “I think we should be good. You visit Callahan’s Pharmacy as well?”

My gaze locks with his, mischief lacing into my smirk. “I really couldn’t say.”

Garrett draws in a heavy breath. His powerful shoulders roll as he slides off his rifle sling, setting it on the gray countertop with more force than necessary. The metal clinks against the stone, but Garrett’s already snatching up both condom boxes before closing the distance between us.

He crushes his lips against mine, anchoring me against him with a confident sweep of his arm. His kiss comes in a fevered rush, as though he’s waited years for this moment.

I pour my desperation into the kiss, shivering as his tongue teases mine. I knot my fingers in his hair like I’m the only one tethering us together, but Garrett’s touch is every bit as furious as my own, digging into my hips as he guides me backward.

I’m obsessed, totally and utterly. Need claws its way up my spine, demanding more , demanding every inch of him I can reach. I shove at his leather jacket; it’s a barrier between us and I want it gone .

Garrett shrugs it off, pulling my sweater over my head, and my t-shirt too—but his touch is almost reverential, delicately peeling the layers away from my skin. Somehow it feels like he’s laying me bare, body and soul.

His shirt is next. My shoes, then his. My skirt. We leave a trail of clothing leading to the bedroom, but when I reach for Garrett’s jeans, he stops me. “Turn around,” he rasps against my neck. “Face the mirror.”

I obey, assuming he needs to see my bra to undo it. But his hands go to my waist instead, nestling into the dip there.

“Let me look at you,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin of my neck. There’s a feral glint to his gaze as he inspects me, focusing on our reflections. His touch stalks over the curve in my waist, retreating to my back, only long enough to undo my bra and throw it on my floor.

There’s no mistaking that wolfish heat in his eyes. I’m Little Red Riding Hood, and he’s about to devour me whole.

And call me crazy, but I can’t help poking the wolf a little. “Like what you see?”

He huffs out a laugh, pulling the loose strands of my hair over my shoulder. All the better to see you with. “I kept thinking my mind was exaggerating how good you looked last night, but somehow you’re even better than I remembered.”

I close my eyes as his lips slant over the side of my neck. A gasp quickly follows as his thumbs flick over my tightened nipples in tandem, slowly rolling them until my breath is stuttered and my back is arched. “Garrett,” I plead, on the edge of agony and ecstasy.

“More?” he purrs into my ear, quickening his pace .

My moan is so loud it surprises even me. I can’t stay still; my feet move without conscious thought. It feels so damned good it’s like my body doesn’t know what to do with itself.

All at once, he stops—and my shoulders slump, breath heaving in and out of my lungs. I’m already out of breath and we haven’t even begun.

Garrett, though, shows no signs of slowing down. His touch is already coasting over my stomach and dipping inside my lace panties.

I gasp with relief, letting my head fall back against his shoulder as the pad of his finger hones in on my clit. His unhurried touch is featherlight, as blissful as it is maddening, but then he ventures lower.

“ Yesss .” I draw in a ragged breath as he slides a finger inside me. My back arches when a second finger joins it, and for the first time this evening, I feel his arousal against my rear. The unyielding heat of his erection is unmistakable—and irresistible.

As I reach back to stroke him, Garrett lets out a hiss of pleasure.

“Charlie,” he warns, his eyes darkening as he curls his touch back and forth in rapid, mind-blowing movements, yanking yet another moan from my chest. By far the loudest yet.

The heady rush of pleasure is so strong, it almost buckles my knees, but Garrett is there to catch me, his tattooed arm locking around my waist like a steel chain pulled tight.

“I’ve got you.” His declaration is a low breath against my ear, and he simultaneously withdraws his touch from my pussy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that while you were standing up, huh? ”

The best I can offer him is a dazed breath.

I’m sure he thinks he’s hiding the cocky twist to his mouth, but I see it. He lowers me down onto his bed, carefully arranging my hair to ensure I’m not lying on it.

I go to reach for his belt, but he stops me. Again.

“Not yet.” Still wearing his jeans, Garrett stretches himself out alongside me, the warmth of his bare torso seeping into mine, his tattoos expanding slightly with his heavy breaths. He hooks his fingers into the soft lace of my panties, his touch achingly tender. “Knees up, Charlie baby.”

I do as he says, eagerly soaking in his expression as he removes the last of my clothes. There’s nowhere for me to hide—I’m as vulnerable as I ever could be, yet I’ve never felt safer.