Wrapping Up: A Rainier Family Novel Read online

  Whatever. Garrett’s a nice guy, he wants to get to know me better, it doesn’t have to be sexual. Right?

  Regardless, I put on my best-fitting pair of jeans and a sweater that highlights the hard work I put into the rowing machine at the gym, thin enough that the fabric molds to the muscles of my shoulders and biceps.

  If this is a date, I look pretty damn good, all things considered. I comb my hair a little, then tousle it with my fingers until it looks just unkempt enough without looking messy.

  It’s a very precise art.

  I get to Barb’s right at seven, and of course, Garrett’s waiting for me just inside the door. I doubt he’s been here long, because Barb looks over when I come in and waves at us both.

  “Find a place to sit, I’ll be with ya,” she says.

  I’m not sure she realizes we’re here together. I know her from her son Troy—a tornado of a kid who’s had his fair share of scrapes leading him to the clinic—but Garrett’s a Rainier. They used to be in-laws.

  “How about a booth?” Garrett asks, arching a brow at me, his mouth quirking in a halfway grin that makes my throat tight.

  Despite that, I manage to nod. We slide into a nearby booth opposite one another, and I squirm under the dim light, the deep shadows making him look dark and mysterious, sending my imagination running wild.

  I don’t know a whole lot about this guy other than the fact that he likes to keep to himself and he runs a business that keeps him in the wilderness a lot. I lick my lips, looking over toward Barb, but she’s going to be busy for another minute before she comes over to us. I feel the need to fill the silence.

  “I really appreciate you being so decent about this thing with Craig. He’s not a bad kid, he’s just—”

  “Confused, I know what that’s like,” he says, nodding.

  I frown. I’m not sure confused is the word I would’ve picked. What is Garrett confused about?

  “He’s got a lot going on at home, not a lot of support. I try to look out for him where I can, but there’s only so much—”

  “You’re doing a hell of a lot more than his parents are, at least from what Ryan told me,” Garrett says, the obvious admiration in his voice making me all warm and flushed inside. I’ve never been very good at taking praise, but I force myself to bite my tongue this time.

  “Someone needs to. But it really means a lot that you’re not making it more difficult for either of us,” I add, deflecting with a shrug. The question of what has Garrett confused is still burning on my mind.

  “Hey guys. What’ll it be?” Barb asks, suddenly appearing at our table side.

  “What’s on special?” Garrett asks, grinning up at her. It’s an effortlessly flirty look—not the kind of look a gay man would be turning on her. My stomach twists tighter.

  Barb hooks her thumb over her shoulder to a blackboard with neon-written specials.

  “I’ll try that craft thing you’ve got on tap,” he says, squinting past her. She rolls her eyes, looks at me, expression softening.

  “Margarita, make it a double,” I say, already poised to take the taunting from Garrett.

  “Tequila, eh? Brave man,” he says, Barb already walking off to make our order.

  “You’re not going to tease me about my girly drink?”

  He makes a face, then shakes his head. “I don’t think being able to out-drink someone is a talent. And I’m not really the kinda guy that wants to hang out with people who do. Way too many people care way too much about drinking if you ask me.”

  He’s preaching to the choir with me. I’ve seen my share of cirrhosis and liver failure and FAS since I started my medical career. You don’t have to tell me that alcoholism is more of a problem in this country than anyone realizes.

  I’m surprised to hear it from Garrett though.

  Maybe the daredevil’s got more depth to him than I gave him credit for.

  “Anyway, I’m glad you came out. Wasn’t sure you’d say yes,” he says, grinning at me.

  Barb drops off our drinks without a word, and we both nod a silent thanks to her. I see her eyes lingering on our table, trying to figure out what’s happening here.

  That makes two of us, Barb.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure why you asked me,” I say. Better to just be blunt about it, I think. I don’t want to spend forever trying to suss out his intentions when I could just freaking ask him and get it behind us.

  “What’s the mystery?” he asks with a shrug. “You’re nice, you’re cute… you’re single, aren’t you?” he adds the last with a cheeky grin that would probably be endearing if it weren’t annoying me at the moment. How does he not get that this is very out of the blue?

  Still, what comes out of my mouth is, “You think I’m cute?”

  Garrett’s laughter rings loud and coaxes a grin out of me, both of us drinking and smiling at each other.

  “Yeah, I do,” he says, eyes roving over me unabashedly, so obviously appraising that it makes me squirm. “Is it so weird for someone to wanna go out with you?”

  I scoff. “Not someone, just you. I thought you were…” Well, this is awkward. There’s no real good way to say it, so I’m just gonna have to blurt it out. It’s what I’m good at after all.

  “Aren’t you straight?” I ask.

  Garrett’s beer nearly comes out of his nose, but he manages to rein it in, wiping foam off his face, slightly blanched.

  “I… I mean… I’ve never… But that’s not to say—”

  “Spit it out,” I grumble. I’ve gotta admit, seeing this easygoing confident guy stammering and stuttering at a loss for words is adorable, but now’s not the time to enjoy it. He’s holding onto information I need.

  Garrett takes a long drink from his beer, half the damn thing gone by now. Not that I’m much better. My margarita’s mostly ice at this point.

  “I haven’t ever been with a guy, but I’ve always been… curious, I guess? I’ve never been against the idea. The right opportunity just hasn’t really presented itself,” he says, nervousness slipping away more and more with each word. By the time he’s through, he sounds practically cocky again.

  I blow out a heavy breath, shaking my head. “I’m flattered and all, but I’ve got way too much going on to be someone’s experiment on their road to self-discovery or whatever.”

  Garrett frowns and shakes his head more vehemently. “I don’t mean it like that. Guy, girl, I don’t care—I’m open to a relationship with whoever strikes my fancy—as long as they can be faithful,” he adds the last with a tone that catches me off guard. But there’s truth in it. Pain in it.

  Someone’s hurt Garrett before, and all of the sudden I want to make them sorry for it.

  “Is this too weird?” he asks, the sincerity in his eyes warm and enticing. “Should we forget about the whole thing?”

  He’s not playing games or trying to manipulate me. He’s not working an angle or just trying to get me in bed.

  Garrett’s got an authenticity about him that pulls me in, and even though we’re off to a rocky start, I don’t think I’m ready for it to be over just yet.

  “No,” I say, sighing, shaking my head. “I don’t want to do that. Let’s just start over.”

  He nods, looking thoughtful. “How about Friday night at the steakhouse outside town? A real unambiguous date,” he adds, smile growing, making me flush.

  Okay, I probably deserve that. It’s my confusion about all this that made tonight a minor disaster.

  But really, it’s probably the best disaster-date I’ve had. Somehow we managed to just talk about things like adults? That’s weird, right?

  I like it though. I like that he can already see my need for clarity in communication and is playing to it.

  “Sounds perfect,” I say, smiling back, butterflies flapping away in my chest.

  I’ve got no idea what to expect, but I know I’m excited. That counts for something.

  Garrett

  “Morning!” I say brightly as E
li and Craig spill out of Eli’s old beater. He’s in scrubs again, hair neatly combed, freshly shaved—he looks ready to take on the day, and it makes me smile for some reason I can’t identify.

  “What’s all this?” Eli asks, gesturing to the campaign signs littering my front lawn at the moment.

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m running for town council.”

  He snorts into his coffee, then looks apologetic when I don’t laugh too.

  “Oh God. I’m sorry. You’re serious?”

  I should probably be offended, but it’s always been hard to ruffle my feathers.

  “For once, it seems,” I tease.

  Craig groans, rolling his eyes toward the greenhouse. “Can I go to work now?” he grumbles. Guess that’s more appealing than listening to us flirt.

  “Yeah, of course. Come on.” I wave him after me, then lead him inside the greenhouse. “I need you to move all these plants over to the other side—carefully. They’re alive and I’d like them to stay that way. The glazier’s coming today to take his measurements and give me a final estimate and he’s going to need full access to the area.”

  Craig looks dubious about the task. “That’s it? You want me to move plants?”

  Kid’s got no idea how tiring on the muscles moving hundreds of full pots is going to be.

  “That’s it. Unless you want me to come up with more work?”

  His eyes go wide and he shakes his head quickly. “Nope, that’s cool. I’ll move the plants.”

  I give him a thumbs up, deciding a pat on the shoulder is too familiar. “If you need help with the bigger ones, just holler.”

  He scoffs, and I leave him to it. I doubt he’ll get it all done before he’s gotta go to school, but that just means he’ll be plenty busy while I go back to chatting up Eli.

  “So you’re running for office, huh?” he asks the moment I’m back, his eyes still on my “Garrett Rainier for Town Council” signs. They’re pretty plain, but what’s there to say? It’s not like I’ve gotta tell anyone in Umberland who I am. I’ve just gotta convince them I want what’s best for the town. That’s not gonna happen with a damn sign.

  I shrug, back to unpacking and assembling them.

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t strike me as the type is all,” Eli says, leaning back on the hood of his car.

  “What type do I seem like?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

  He presses his lips together, not meeting my eyes, squirming where he’s seated. “I dunno. Not the serious politician-type. More like the mountain-climbing hang-gliding type.”

  “Are those mutually exclusive?” I ask, enjoying how his fluster’s making his ears turn red, the flush creeping out over his cheeks, blanketing the bridge of his nose.

  “No… They’re just… You know what I’m saying,” he gripes, rolling his eyes.

  “I don’t know if I do. It sounds to me like you’re saying politicians can’t be risk-takers. I’d argue that’s exactly what they should be.”

  He’s still pursing his lips at me, not arguing, but clearly fighting amused annoyance.

  “Besides,” I say, stepping closer to where he’s propped against his car. “The council’s hardly a real political position. I think they get four hundred dollars a year between them in salary.”

  Eli frowns, looking down at his thermos. “Why run then? What’re your plans?”

  I shrug, gesture behind me to my place, my business.

  “Right now, it seems I’m the only one that realizes what a natural goldmine we’re sitting on when it comes to eco-tourism. Just a little investment in that and Umberland’s gonna see growth like we can’t imagine. You just wait and see.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he says, which makes me smile. But I’m a realist. I know it won’t sound good to everyone. There’ll be people in this town who are resistant to any kind of change. So resistant that maybe I won’t ever get my shot at being on the council. Even with my name to help me get there.

  “What brought you to Umberland?” I ask, tossing the stack of campaign signs in the back of my truck. Eli’s been in town for a while, but he’s not from here, and that’s odd enough on its own.

  He shrugs, looking down at the dirt. “Life?” he says with a little chuckle. “I interned with this company while I finished up my schooling. Umberland was the first opening they had. I applied, and here I am. Luck of the draw, really,” he says.

  “Lucky me,” I grin, and he rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself.

  “You’re super cheesy, you know that?”

  “You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?” I ask.

  He groans, shaking his head, laughing at me now.

  “You’re so lucky you have that rugged wild-man thing going for you,” he teases.

  “Oh yeah? Tell me more about what I’ve got going for me,” I say, stepping closer, pulled toward him, his smile a hook that’s reeling me in.

  Eli rolls his eyes, puts his hand on my chest, and pushes lightly.

  “Easy there, tiger. I haven’t even finished my coffee.”

  “Well, get on it,” I tease, laughing when he rolls his eyes at me again. He sits back on his car, looking over toward Craig, the reality of the moment sinking back in.

  “To be honest with you, I don’t expect I’ve got much of a chance of winning, but I’m tired of letting people too old to see the results of their decisions make plans for the rest of us. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Eli surprises me by nodding, his expression going serious. “You’ve got my vote.”

  I grin. I don’t know why him having faith in me matters at all, but here we are.

  Probably because he’s one of the first people outside my family I’ve told about this. I’ve been expecting everyone to tell me I’m crazy. Having him say he supports me isn’t just a surprise, it’s a relief.

  Maybe other people will vote for me too.

  Maybe I’m not insane.

  With my help, Craig manages to get all the plants moved, and I wave them both off from the top of a ladder, pulling down the temporary sheeting I’ve had up over the open holes. It’s not long before the glazier arrives, and as he’s taking his measurements, my phone rings.

  Clary?

  The hell?

  When’s the last time I heard from that cousin? We were pretty good friends growing up, but then his whole family—him, his parents, and their other half dozen or so kids—moved to the opposite side of the country and visits have been infrequent.

  Weird is a hell of an understatement when it comes to describing Clary calling me outta the blue.

  “Hello?”

  “Holy shit, Garrett, is that you?”

  I laugh, shaking my head.

  “Talk about out of the fucking blue man, what’s up?”

  “Word’s been traveling through the familial grapevine,” he says, no trace of an accent from these parts left in his voice.

  “What word?” I ask, throat tightening. Who knows what my family’s been saying to each other? Normally it doesn’t bother me, but this apparently involves me.

  “You’re running for office?”

  I snort. “Town council, nothing big,” I’m quick to correct him.

  “Hey, you gotta start somewhere. I’m in between gigs right now, so if you want some campaign help, I’m more than happy. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the whole family… and Umberland,” he adds, a wistful note in his tone. Clary’s got some experience with this stuff; I know his help would be invaluable in a small-town race like this.

  “I don’t wanna put you out, but if you’re looking for an excuse to come visit…”

  “It’s settled then,” he says, getting another chuckle out of me. Good ol’ Clary.

  “Mom’ll be so excited to see you. She’s going to flip her shit,” I laugh.

  “Tell her I’m bringing my appetite!” he hoots, and we’re both still laughing as we say our goodbyes.

  Guess my cousings coming to visit.
/>   I’m smiling so much about it that my face hurts.

  Okay, so that’s probably more than just Clary. That probably has something to do with Eli, too. Eli and our flirty banter, our coming date this Friday…

  Life’s pretty good right now.

  Other than this enormous estimate the glazier hands me.

  I swallow, looking down at the number swimming in front of my eyes.

  That’s definitely going to set me back.

  Ryan warned me about this. He told me if I didn’t file a report that the insurance wouldn’t process my claim. Not wanting Craig to get charged means I get to pay for this out of pocket.

  No good deed goes unpunished, right?

  After the glazier’s gone, and most of plants are moved back, I decide to head into town.

  It starts off as an excuse to put up some signs, but then I find myself at the grocery store, buying shit I don’t need just to distract myself.

  Because that’s gonna help my financial troubles.

  I’ve got a fridge full of groceries at home, but I still walk out with enough for a few nice meals. And once I’m in my truck, all the signs posted around town, the unnecessary groceries bought, it’s time for me to face the real reason I’m in town right now. I have to decide if I’m going to give in to the urge to go by the clinic where Eli works, or if that’s too much too fast.

  I don’t know.

  I want to see him.

  I know that.

  It’s all I’ve got, so I find myself in the clinic parking lot, sitting there in my truck like a creep, debating if this is insane or not. He could see it as sweet and romantic, like I can’t wait to see him again—which is the truth, which is what I want him to get from it—but it could go the other way too. It could be too much too fast, too intense, creepy, stalkerish.

  Ugh. I thought this was hard enough with girls.

  I sit in my truck debating it long enough that it’s past closing time when I see Eli come out of the front doors, looking like he’s in a huge hurry, his shoulders hunched, head down—he looks like the boogeyman’s on his heels.

  On pure protective instinct, I hurry out of the truck and jog over to intercept him.