CHEAT (Right Men Series Book 3) Read online

  “Straight to the hospital!” he shouted. I winked at him and carefully reversed out of the parking lot and onto the quiet, dark roads.

  Glancing at the clock on my car radio, I saw it was only a couple minutes after eleven.

  “How did you get this messed up this early, soldier?” I whispered to the giant stranger.

  “Shit luck,” he groaned. I jumped in my seat, immediately tightening my hold on the steering wheel.

  “Shit.”

  “Cupid curses,” he muttered and chuckled deeply before groaning, “Figures.”

  “Look, I’m taking you to the hospital,” I shared, stopping at a red light before glancing over at him.

  “Please don’t,” he muttered through a bloodied lip. His eye peeked open again, giving me the smallest hint of chocolate-brown eyes.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “I hate hospitals,” he complained, and I rolled my eyes.

  “I don’t think anyone loves them,” I started to ramble, but his pained chuckle made the words stop mid-sentence.

  “Comedian, huh?” He sighed, his eyes half closed on me.

  “Where should I take you?”

  “My truck,” he muttered in a slur.

  “Truck?”

  “It died, just down the street from the bar.”

  “But you can’t drive like this.”

  “I’ll be okay, Cupid.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” I mumbled. A soft smile graced one side of his bloodied lip. The light turned green, and the car behind me honked.

  “I’ll be okay, love bug. Don’t worry about me,” he whispered heavily right before closing his eyes. I instantly missed his chocolatey gaze.

  I sighed and turned left. He was going to be okay. Not because I was going to toss him into his truck, but because Kip was right.

  I took in strays.

  Chapter Two

  Garrett

  He opened his eyes and groaned.

  His head was pounding, and his body felt like it had been hit by a Mack truck.

  Closing his eyes tightly, he exhaled slowly and let his other senses wake up. He could hear a shower running, and he breathed in the light scent of the sheets below him.

  Sweet.

  Feminine.

  Like sunshine and spun sugar.

  Shit, what have I done?

  He wracked his brain trying to remember, but all he could come up with was skinny hipster dipshits and Cupid.

  Cupid?

  He heard footsteps and carefully peeked through his dark lashes, ignoring the blinding pain from the daylight streaming through the bright white blinds in the room. He held his body still at the sight in front of him.

  A woman.

  In a green towel.

  Damn.

  She had million-dollar curves. Wet brown hair was dripping down her back and the sexiest shoulders he had laid eyes on. She had what looked like ink peeking out at the center of her back. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it intrigued him. He tried to shake his mind awake to remember if he had been up close and personal with that ink and those curves.

  Nothing.

  But his eyes roamed lower, down the terrycloth-wrapped body, and his breathing almost stuttered. She had a great ass. Perky and more than a handful. Even though she was wrapped up in a towel, he could see it would make a man weak at the knees. Fuck.

  Wouldn’t he remember an ass like that?

  She took out baby pink panties with creamy lace edging, and his heart stopped. He didn’t know why, but as tempting as it was to look, he pretended to sleep. His eyes shut, and he fought to keep his breathing slow and steady. He didn’t stir. Not once. Not as she moved around the room, flitting one way then another, obviously trying to be quiet. He didn’t even smirk when he heard her mutter cute little things under her breath. She was oblivious to his playing possum.

  She was fucking cute.

  He heard her step into the bathroom, and it wasn’t until the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place sounded that he dared open his eyes. Taking in the small but clean space, he liked what he saw. The room was a bright white, obviously feminine in décor.

  Bohemian.

  It reminded him of his grandmother. Gypsy flair and femininity were strewn around with bright prints, yet there was a simplicity about it. It confounded him.

  Bright simplicity.

  There was a dull pounding behind his temples, but he ignored it. He needed to get the hell out of there. He stood, and as quietly as he could manage, he grabbed his shoes and socks, his wallet and phone from the nightstand beside him, and got the hell out of Dodge.

  Someone as bright and pretty as the woman changing deserved someone better, that was for sure. His hand on the doorknob, he stopped. Images of Cupid helping him into the run-down but clean apartment popped in his head. He had said something, and she’d laughed. He could remember in the recesses of his mind that he liked the sound, even if he couldn’t quite recall it.

  A broken lamp on the couch caught his eyes, and it brought back another memory. He had stumbled as she locked the front door, and it had broken. Damn it. She had helped him, and he had ruined her place.

  Don’t worry, it didn’t match anything here anyhow, he could hear her voice say in his ear, the soft sweetness of her voice ingrained in his memory.

  A pad of paper and pen on the coffee table caught his attention, and he took the few steps toward it.

  He was an asshole. He was the king of douchebags when he wanted to be, but at that moment, he couldn’t get himself to leave without at least saying thank you.

  He rapidly jotted down a quick note, adding his number at the end, asking her to call him so he could pay her back for the broken lamp and make up for being a nuisance.

  She had taken care of him, after all.

  Glancing at his phone, he frowned. It was Monday. Shit. She had taken care of him for two days? He put the notepad over the broken lamp, so she wouldn’t miss his note, before slipping out of the apartment and figuring out how the hell to get back home.

  Stefanie

  I sat on the closed-lidded toilet seat long after the front door opened and shut. I didn’t sneak a peek. I could have. But I didn’t.

  Instead, I sat there, long after having done my makeup and hair. Completely and utterly unsure of what I felt.

  The tall giant had slipped out of my place like a thief in the night after I had stressed over him the entire weekend. I’d worried if I had made the right call bringing him back to my place instead of running him to the hospital. He was obviously fine.

  And utterly ungrateful.

  Whatever. Nothing new. Selfish people who didn’t stick around were my forte. It was for the best. Closing my eyes, I tried to shake off the negative emotions bubbling up to the surface.

  Negativity is a waste of energy, I reminded myself as I got up and looked in the mirror. It was the start of a new work week, and the man who I had freely gawked at, had taken care of, and had made me giggle in his small lucid moments was gone. It was for the best. It wasn’t like I would have been comfortable leaving for work with him here.

  Stepping into my room, even though I had heard his ungracefulness stomp around like a bull in a china shop, I couldn’t help feeling disappointment at the emptiness. He was gone. The giant had taken up so much space, and even though I didn’t like being cramped, I found I didn’t mind him in my space.

  Grabbing my purse and cell phone, I walked out to the living room. I scowled as I went to pick up the broken lamp.

  Fuck! I’m so sawry, Coopid, he had muttered and slurred in my ear as I had bent to pick up the pieces of the broken light. His body had been so warm, heat had radiated off him like a heater. I’d turned to tell him not to worry, and even bloodied and beat up, smelling like a bottle of whiskey, he had given me head-to-toe shivers.

  My notepad lay on top of it. Masculine scribble on it.

  Sorry for the inconvenience this weekend.

  Call me to repl
ace the lamp.

  Garrett

  Garrett. The name fit him. His number was chicken scratched below, and I looked at it. Tempted to throw it away with the pieces of the lamp.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I set the notepad back on the coffee table, picked up the lamp, and went on my merry way.

  Chapter Three

  Garrett

  She hadn’t called.

  A week after Garrett had left her place, and he hadn’t heard a thing from her.

  Nothing.

  He shouldn’t have cared. He should have shrugged it off and continued on his unmerry way. But her damn pretty face and sunny voice plagued every one of his waking thoughts. If that wasn’t bad enough, he saw her and flashes of what he assumed were the two days he had spent with her. He would wake aching to hear the chime of her laughter or reaching for the hand she had let him hold. He could swear he knew the feel of it in his. Small and delicate, while an incomprehensible strength and bravery exuded from it.

  The idea of her hand in his helped him drift off to sleep on a daily basis since he had been back.

  “Hey!” a feminine voice called out, and he turned. It might have been February, but the California sunshine didn’t seem to care.

  His sister-in-law, Valerie, walked over, her hand on her rounded belly, which was somehow bigger than the last time he’d seen her. He found himself smiling and raising his hand before meeting her halfway in the backyard.

  “I didn’t know you were coming over,” he said, giving her a small hug before stepping away.

  “I didn’t take you for the outdoorsy type. I thought you hated the pool.” Val smiled at him.

  “Why would you think that?” he asked. He actually liked the pool area of his brother’s home.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really seen you around it,” she observed, and if he thought about it, he couldn’t blame her. When they had family get-togethers, he tended to take the presence of everyone in small doses, constantly leaving the family around the pool to go inside and regroup.

  “Come on.” He led the way into the house, through the kitchen. “Bryan with you?”

  “He’s working. I thought I would stop by,” she shared, her hand on her stomach.

  He had been expecting it.

  The moment Donnie had seen him Monday morning by his truck, he had known his lifelong friend wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t blame Don, though. He had been a mess.

  Even a week later, there were still traces of the bruises and swelling. Hell, his body was still a little sore, and cuts were still healing.

  “You hungry?” he asked, and she giggled. Val had a ferocious appetite, and it hadn’t been whetted by the little guy currently leasing space in her ever-expanding belly.

  “Believe it or not, I’m not.”

  “How is my nephew doing?”

  “Baking.” She winked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “But you know that’s not why I’m here.” He did. Valerie wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush. It was one of the many things he respected about her.

  “Val.” He tried to use as stern of a voice as he could around her, but he knew it was useless when she grabbed his hand as he passed by her. Looking down at her, he frowned. He had no idea what it was about his brother’s wife that had made her feel like family from the moment they had met.

  “They’re worried,” she stated. He took a deep breath.

  “They have nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you shitting me?” she bit back without hesitation, and his lips twitched slightly at the sound of her cursing.

  “Val,” He didn’t know what to say to calm her down.

  “You disappeared for THREE days, Garrett!” Her small hand went into a fist and hit the table. With his own sigh, he took the chair next to hers and sat his ass down.

  “Val—”

  “That isn’t anything new for me,” she threw out, and he flinched. “People have always pulled crap like that in my life.” Her family had been a bunch of assholes. “But Bryan, Marcus, even Donnie, they were scared half to death! You wouldn’t answer your phone. Not one damn peep from you.”

  “Val—”

  “But when you did call, you called Don, and he picked you up. Not just picked you up, but Garrett, you were bruised and battered,” she pointed out. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

  “I was fine.” He fought his wince at the sight of her eyes narrowing. Wrong choice of words, obviously.

  “You should have gone to the hospital!”

  “I wasn’t that bad,” he added. She snapped her head toward him. Her glare made him retreat. “I didn’t want to go. I told Donnie. I’m not a fan of hospitals.”

  “Who is?” she asked, clearly disgruntled. Garrett opened his mouth to try and calm her down, but she kept going, “Or fine, it’s not like you have a trauma nurse you’re related to. Or have a brother who could get a doctor to see you at the snap of his fingers.”

  “Val—”

  “I’m having a baby,” she said, and he stilled.

  “I know that, honey.”

  “Bryan and I are having a child, and I’m sorry to say this to you, but I won’t have him go through anything I did.” Her back was ramrod straight. He blinked once, then twice, before opening his mouth. “Val—”

  “It might make me a bitch, but you disappearing, worrying everyone like you did—”

  “I’m sorry,” he cut her off. Squeezing her hand gently, he didn’t start to speak until their eyes met and the concern in her eyes gutted him, filling him with guilt. “I won’t ever do anything like that again. I promise.”

  “You were doing so well,” she whispered, squeezing his hand back. He sighed.

  “It was the anniversary of when my convoy was hit. I fucked up,” he confessed and shook his head. “I drank too much, Val. Goaded these little assholes into a fight and—”

  “And they kicked your ass,” she guessed. He was man enough to chuckle it off.

  “I let them,” he admitted, and silence fell between them.

  “Why?” she asked softly, her other hand now covering his.

  “I felt like I deserved it,” he confessed, just like he had to his therapist.

  “Because you survived?” she surmised. A knot formed in his throat, making it impossible to answer. He had survived. Him. The one who had nothing. No woman or kids. Not like his buddies. Looking away from her, he focused his eyes on the backyard.

  “You know, when someone we care about is taken away… especially in a senseless way, it’s hard to understand why,” she softly added, and he callously scoffed.

  She didn’t know the shit that haunted him. He tried to let go of Valerie’s hand, but she didn’t let him. Instead, she squeezed it, not in a painful way but a reassuring one. One that made him look away from the backyard and into her eyes.

  “I get it more than you know, Garrett. I get suffering a loss and not understanding why shit happens the way it does and why God would let something like that happen. But the thing is, you are here. You’re alive.”

  “Val.” His body was held tight, and he tried to warn her not to push him, but she kept talking.

  “You’re here,” she repeated, and he hated how thankful he felt to still be breathing. It felt like a betrayal to his brothers in arms. “You have this chance at making life all you want it to be. Something that those who aren’t with us anymore simply don’t.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” he gritted through his teeth.

  “Your friends, your brothers in uniform, wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

  “How would you know?” he snapped, unable to hold his tongue, but Val was made of tougher stuff, because she didn’t flinch at his outburst.

  “Because I know loss, Garrett.” She wasn’t lying. She had opened up to him one night in the hospital after his brother was recovering from surgery.

  But even if she hadn’t, he had already known. It was reflected in
her eyes. They had both lost people near and dear to them.

  “I know what survivor’s guilt is like. I get it.” Her voice was so full of emotion his gut burned, but in a different way now.

  “Val—” He didn’t need her to get upset. Not when she was heavily pregnant and he was home alone with her. His brother would kill him and make it look like an accident.

  “My uncle wouldn’t have wanted me to live my life in the shadows or follow in my freaking parents’ dumbass footprints,” she stated, and he sighed.

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you?” she pleaded, and he swallowed hard.

  “I’m—”

  “Bryan won’t ever say this to you, because you guys have so much damn male pride and ego, but they were all scared to death, Garrett,” she whispered.

  “Babe—”

  “So was I,” she admitted. He swallowed knowing how difficult admitting weakness was for Valerie. “And Grace. Even Grace’s sister, Gloria, was stressing out, and not much gets to her,” Valerie pointed out, getting more and more upset with every word.

  “Babe—”

  “You do this shit again, and I swear I will kick your ass, Garrett.”

  “I know.” She looked at him fiercely, but even behind the anger, worry won out. She was giving him tough love. Tough love he didn’t deserve because he knew it meant she cared. She considered him family. As much as he hated it and felt undeserving, he was glad she was dishing out.

  “I didn’t meet you before the whole Grace and Marc thing, so I don’t know how bad shit was. Whatever happened between the three of you, however you were, I honestly can’t imagine you being that much of a dick. Especially to Grace. But I know people are human, and we deal with shit in all sorts of fucked-up ways. But let me tell you something; being one hundred percent honest here, I don’t care to meet that Garrett. The Garrett I know is my friend.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re like a brother. Unlike any I have ever even dreamed of having in my life.” Her voice cracked, and he shuffled his chair closer and hugged her as she broke down and cried.

  “I’m sorry I freaked you guys out,” he sincerely apologized into her hair.

  Stefanie