Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride. Christine Rimmer
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“Forward to...?”
“When I figure that out, you’ll be the first to know.” She drank, plunked the empty can on the cooler between them and granted him another gorgeous smile. “So then.” She grabbed the ice again and reapplied it to her eye. “You know my story. What brings you to this beautiful neck of the woods, Garrett?”
Is she actually out of her mind? he wondered. Could be. But for some reason, he liked her. He went ahead and told her the embarrassing truth. “I’m kind of hiding out.”
“I can relate. Who are you hiding from?”
“My mother.”
“What did she do to you?”
“It’s what she’s trying to do. The past few years, she’s been obsessed with seeing me and my sisters and brothers happily married. Nell and I are the only ones still single. Even my mother knows better than to try to tell Nellie what to do. So lately Ma’s been pestering me.”
“Pestering you, how?”
“Demanding I come see her and then browbeating me when I get there about how it’s time I found love and happiness at last. Introducing me to very nice women I don’t want to go out with. Lecturing me about ‘trying again’ every chance she gets.”
“Again?”
“I was married. Years ago. It didn’t work out. I suck at relationships.” Cami chuckled. He shot her a frown. “That’s funny?”
“It’s just the way you said it...”
“What way?”
“Really fast, like you wanted to get it over with and you didn’t want me to ask you any questions about it.”
“I did. And I don’t.”
“Duly noted.” She poked at her black eye, wincing a little, and then iced it some more. Her ring finger was bare.
“You lost your ring.”
She shook her head. “Before I left the church parking lot, I took it off and stuck it in the glove box. I’m guessing it’s still there. Go on, about your mother and your needing to get away?”
He shrugged. “Long story short, I’m kind of a workaholic and I needed a break from everything, my mother most of all. So I’m here where my mother would not be caught dead—roughing it in a one-room cabin on top of a mountain. And she can’t even call me because there’s no cell service.”
Cami clucked her tongue, chiding him. “You seem way too pleased with yourself when you say that.”
“I kind of am. Unfortunately, to appease her, I did promise her I’d have dinner with her the night I get back to town. But I’ll deal with that when it happens. For now, Ma’s off my back and I’m up here in the great wide-open, taking a breather, trying to figure out what to change up to get more out of life.”
“Well, Garrett. What do you know? We have stuff in common.”
For the first time since she’d materialized out of nowhere, he allowed himself to laugh. “I guess we do.”
“And I sure am glad you were here.” Cami was picking bits of crushed, dried leaves out of her hair with her free hand.
“You look tired.” At his softly spoken words, she made a cute humming sound that might have been agreement. He asked in a coaxing tone, “You ever gonna let me patch you up a little?”
Cami worked another leaf free of her tangled hair. He accepted that she wouldn’t answer. But then she did. “I would kill for a bath about now.”
“That can be arranged.”
* * *
Cami decided she loved Garrett’s cabin.
On the outside, it was simple, of weathered wood with old-fashioned sash-type windows and a front porch with stone steps.
Inside, it was cozy and plain, just one big living area with the kitchen on one wall, the bed on another and a sofa under the front window.
When he ushered her ahead of him into the dinky bathroom, she grinned and brushed a finger along the wooden rim of the tub. “It’s half of a barrel.”
“That’s right, a whiskey barrel.” He hung back in the doorway. There wasn’t enough room for both of them in there. “A full-size tub wouldn’t fit.” He was tall and broad-shouldered with beautiful light brown eyes that made her think of melting caramel. Definitely a hottie, with a few days’ worth of scruff on his lean cheeks, dressed in old jeans, dusty hiking boots and a faded brown denim jacket over a white T-shirt. He was so easy to be with. Already, she liked him a lot and had to keep reminding herself that she hardly knew him.
“I put in the tub and hot water up here this spring,” he said. “Before that, it was sponge baths or nothing.”
She glanced around at the vintage sink, the milk-glass light fixture and the knotty-pine paneling. “I like it. It’s super rustic.”
He indicated the metal caddy hooked on the outside of the tub. “Soap and shampoo are right there. Towel and washcloth under the sink. There’s a new toothbrush and a comb you can use in the medicine cabinet. I’ll go back out to the fire and leave the window over the sofa open. Give me a holler if you need anything.”
“Would you undo the hooks at the back of my dress before you go?”
“Uh, sure.” He took a step into the tight space and she backed up to meet him.
Gentle fingers brushed the skin between her shoulder blades and then worked their way down. She pressed the dress to her chest to keep it from falling off. “All done,” he said after a minute.
She looked over her shoulder and met those melty eyes. “Take this thing?” To her, the dress represented all that was wrong in her life. It wasn’t even her style, so poufy and traditional. Her mom had coaxed her into choosing it. “I don’t think there’s room for both it and me in here.”
He had soft lips to go with the melty eyes. Those lips turned up slightly. “Uh. Sure.” He was looking at her kind of funny, like he still didn’t quite know what to make of her—which was nothing new. People often looked at her that way. Maybe he was thinking she shouldn’t be so quick to take off her dress in front of him.
Well, maybe she shouldn’t. But then again, why not?
She trusted him. He’d been nothing but kind to her, helping her all he could while at the same time respecting her wishes. Never once had he bullied her to do things his way. This man was not going to make a move on her—or if he did, he’d