there were. Truth be told, there had been for years. “Yeah, but there was a lot going on. Our situation at home was pretty precarious for a number of reasons. My parents hadn’t done a lot of contingency planning. There was a small policy that got us through the first couple years, but my mom didn’t work, and I didn’t want the girls’ futures to die with my dad. Bethany was smart as hell. Always making those gifted programs at school. A hell of a lot more going on than I ever had, that’s for sure. And with the earning potential in the house pretty well limited to what I could eke out, her grades were her ticket into college. So that was her job and she nailed it. Free ride right through.”
Nichole was smiling at him then, and he knew she’d seen the pride he couldn’t contain when it came to his older sister.
“Which was great, but it meant she was basically gone by the time I was seventeen.” He’d never been a senior in high school, because by then he’d dropped out to work full-time. Everyone had helped out in the day-to-day—but the money, the bills, keeping the house fixed up had fallen to Garrett.
“My mom had always been kind of fragile. I have no idea how she managed to have five kids, but even before Dad died we’d all become pretty adept at chipping in. Which is probably the only reason we were able to make it the way we did. She never really recovered from losing him.”
“Garrett, that must have been so hard.”
He nodded, closing his eyes. And for a moment he was back in his kitchen that day, with some textbook open in front of him, his dad blowing through the room with all his endless energy, trailing a bunch of little girls clamoring for a last kiss before he took off for work. He’d leaned over Garrett and looked at the page, shaking his head in that bewildered way he’d had when it came to school.
He’d been blue-collar to the core. Working in construction from his teens. No higher education. Just a salt-of-the-earth, meat-and-potatoes man’s man who’d loved his family.
He’d clapped Garrett on the shoulder and nodded toward his wife over at the counter, cleaning up breakfast. “You’re the man of the house while I’m gone, son. Make me proud.”
Same words every day. And Garrett had grinned, rolling his eyes at the idea. Still, he always gave his dad his everyday commitment—”Yes, sir”—earning that last, “Good kid,” as he left for work.
Thirty minutes later his father had been dead. And all Garrett had had to honor the man he’d worshipped was that last promise he’d made.
Clearing his throat, he looked back at Nichole. “Mom tried. She got meals on the table and held it together enough so, for a while, the relatives weren’t asking questions. But even as kids we had a sort of instinctual understanding of her limitations. She cried a lot. Spent more and more time in her room. Less and less time doing the things a capable parent did. If there was a crisis in the middle of the night she wasn’t the one the girls went to. It was me. And by the end—when I was eighteen—it got to where she needed the kind of help she couldn’t get at home. Hell, she should have had help before then, but we—I just didn’t understand.”
The guilt inexorably tied to thoughts of his mother pushed at him, weighing in his gut and chest. The question that never went away … If he’d gotten her help earlier would she have had a chance?
“My God, Garrett, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize your mother—Maeve doesn’t talk a lot about her.”
It didn’t surprise him. “Maeve missed out on the most Mom had to give. She was just a little kid. And it was tough to lose so much at once. It was tough on all of them, but we got through it. And, long story short, someone needed to be around. I sure as hell didn’t like the idea of my sisters being alone overnight, you know?”
There were just too many things that could happen … and he’d thought about all of them.
Nichole’s brow pushed up. “That being the case, how in the world did you ever get this Panty Whisperer reputation?”
“I was a teenager.” He laughed. “With needs. No privacy at home. And a very short window of free time every other week or so to take care of them. Thank God I had a few friends with older sisters who were willing to be the responsible party and babysit once in a while.”
“So you’re citing your libido as an example of necessity being the mother of invention?”
“Exactly.” Then he held up a hand. “Only I don’t want it to sound like I was one of those guys who’d say anything to get into a girl’s pants. I wasn’t.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m guessing you probably wouldn’t need to, Garrett.”
But then her eyes found his again and they were still serious. Still waiting.
“What about later, though? After you got Maeve and the rest through school and out on their own? What about then?”
“By then I’d taken over running the construction company and I was going after my own degree. Still not a lot of free time. But, yeah, obviously I could have spent some of it crashed out overnight in a woman’s bed. It just seemed smarter not to.”
“Afraid they’d get ideas?”
“Yes.” It sounded bad. But all he had was the truth. “It was important to me that the women I took out didn’t get the wrong idea about what was happening. About what could happen.”
He hadn’t had the time to get to know them well enough to figure out if he could trust them to take his word for the kinds of limits a relationship with him would have. And so his romantic interactions had always been sort of stunted, shallow exercises that served a specific need.
Until Nichole.
Because not only did he finally have the time, but she already knew the score. She already knew him better than any other woman he’d ever taken out. They had honesty and communication on their side.
And the freedom in that—just to be together and enjoy what they were doing—was incredible.
There was only one problem. He hadn’t actually taken Nichole out at all.
If ever there was a woman who deserved a solid date from him it was this one. But so far he’d picked her up at a party, literally picked her up in the back of a coffee shop and backed her into her place with no intention of letting her out until he’d gotten her to … well, where he’d gotten her. Several times, he mentally amended, giving into a satisfied grin.
“What’s that look about?” Nichole asked, cuddling her coffee mug to her chest.
“I was just thinking about where I should take you for our first date.”
“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS.” Nichole laughed, trying to keep up as Garrett half-towed her through a parking lot toward what appeared to be some kind of two-dimensional enchanted castle ahead.
“Why not? This is our first date—official first date. Because the weeknight dinners don’t count and I actually called you in advance to set this one up—so it seemed appropriate.”
