Chapter Eleven
Having time off felt as surreal as the rest of Sunny’s current situation. She’d called the shelter after breakfast to take a few more days off. She needed it, especially because the idea of going back to the shelter and taking care of others seemed too difficult. She just didn’t have anything inside her to give to others right then.
Connor had gone by the vet in the morning, and she’d been grateful for the update when he’d called. Spike was doing better. He was still on a lot of pain meds and asleep most of the time, but it seemed he’d pull through. Connor had said they’d go that evening to visit him.
Trent had needed to head into work, leaving her at the house with Garrison.
It was surreal to walk around their house because the men wereeverywhere.
Connor was in the painting of horses that hung above the fireplace, Garrison was in the simple black couches and Trent had to be responsible for the ‘wash your hands, you filthy animals’ sign in the bathroom.
Garrison had let her be to explore the house to her heart’s content. She’d gotten a tour the previous night, but she didn’t recall much of it. They had four bedrooms, but one had been converted into a small home gym. It had a treadmill and a weight bench, along with a suspension workout set that hung from a hook over the window.
Of course, knowing the men as she did, she wondered if that wasallit got used for. She had a feeling the straps would be useful in other ways.
Still, after washing her leggings by hand that morning and throwing them in their dyer—her shirt had been a loss because of Spike’s blood—she’d decided a walk on the treadmill would do her some good.
Stretching her legs would help clear her mind.
The story she’d told them that morning, regurgitating her history with Tanner, hadn’t made her feel better.
People who claimed that getting secrets out made a person feel better were liars.
Maybe, eventually, it would help, but at first it only felt like scraping her skin raw, as if she were bleeding from a million little places that had been healed. Each word had been a new wound, each memory another strike.
The only positive had been that the men hadn’t treated her like she was broken. They hadn’t coddled her, hadn’t acted as though she was suddenly diseased or weak.
Trent had pulled her into his lap as she’d finished breakfast, and they’d moved on.
Still, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Tanner had managed to get his claws into her life again. Even if this wasn’t him, even if it was all a random occurrence, he wasthere. He was in her head, tearing apart her life even from states away.
“Hey there.” Garrison’s voice made her jump and lose her footing.
Luckily, Garrison was quicker—or he expected it—because before she sailed backward and hit the wall behind her, he caught her and pulled her off the treadmill.
“Jumpy, aren’t you?”
She smacked his shoulder. “Youknowbetter than to sneak up on me.”
He smirked, telling her yeah, he’d probably planned it.
Then again, she was pressed up against him, his strong arm around her, her breasts melded against his chest. He’d clearly gotten what he wanted.
Or maybe not quite yet, because he lowered his lips to hers, not asking but taking a kiss that was all heat.
Of course, as quickly as he started it, he ended it, much to her disappointment. “Pity,” he muttered.
“Pity?”
He nodded, then gestured toward the kitchen. “Yeah, a damn shame. As much as I’d love to keep going, we need to talk.”
We need to talkwas a bad thing for a person to say. Fear gripped her as her brain went back to times when Tanner had said that before, when it had meant she’d displeased him, that she’d failed in some way and those words existed in the silence before she paid the price for it.
Fingers grasped her chin, and it was Garrison’s blue eyes that pulled her back, that reminded her it wasn’t Tanner who had spoken.
It was Garrison, and this man hadn’t given her a reason to fear him.
He nodded after a moment, as if he could see her work through it. He pulled his hand away from her chin, then held it out and waited for her.