The Last Single Garrett Read online

  No reason except that she’d made an impulsive promise to a little girl. A little girl who was even now pressed against her side, her face turned away from the screen as the Shadow Man’s spirit was taken away by the demons. But truthfully, her promise to Emily was only part of it. She was also intrigued by the opportunity to glimpse a corner of Josh’s personal life and curious to see him interact with the little girls.

  She vaguely remembered Lucy Slater from Hillfield Academy. Josh’s younger sister had been two years behind Tristyn—a popular girl who liked to party more than study. She got kicked out midway through her sophomore year and wound up pregnant a couple years after that. By that time, Tristyn was mostly keeping her distance from Josh, so any information she had was secondhand from her cousin Daniel. There had apparently been a hasty wedding, and an even hastier divorce.

  Obviously Lucy had gone on to have two more children and was now the mother of three beautiful girls. Three beautiful girls who were in Josh’s care for the summer. Tristyn smiled a little at the thought of how the responsibilities would put a crimp in his usually active social life. Maybe she could offer to help with the girls, because it might be fun to have a front-row seat to the fireworks while he figured out how to mesh his life with the needs and demands of his three nieces.

  Except that spending too much time in close proximity to Josh was a risk. Sure, they were friends—or at least friendly—most of the time, but there was also that uncomfortable friction that occasionally reared up between them—seemingly more frequently in recent years.

  As Daniel’s best friend and business partner, Josh was almost an honorary Garrett. Because his parents traveled a lot to oversee the various offices and interests of Slater Industries—a multinational investment company—he was often on his own for national holidays, and Daniel’s mom, Jane, always included him in whatever plans the Garretts made. As a result, Tristyn had spent a lot more time with him over the past two decades than she’d sometimes wanted to.

  In many ways, Josh had been like another cousin, and almost as bossy and annoying as most of her cousins were—at least from the perspective of a ten-year-old girl who hated to be excluded from their activities because of her age and her gender. She didn’t look at him any differently than she looked at Daniel or Justin or Nathan or Ryan. Not until the summer after she’d turned thirteen, when suddenly being around him made her heart beat just a little bit faster. And she would blush and stutter in response whenever he spoke to her.

  Her sisters teased her about her crush on Daniel’s best friend, which she vehemently denied. He was just an idiot boy like the rest of their idiot cousins and all the other idiot boys she knew. Of course, Lauryn and Jordyn didn’t believe her denials. And when Tristyn saw Josh making out with Missy Harlowe (aka Missy Harlot) beneath the bleachers of the football field, she felt as if she’d been stabbed in the heart. This unexpectedly fierce reaction forced her to acknowledge the truth of her feelings, if only to herself. She was in love with Josh Slater.

  Later, she’d realized that what she’d thought was love was only an infatuation. Regardless of what she called it, there was no denying that he’d been her first real crush. And seeing him with other girls—and there were a lot of other girls—had broken her heart each and every time. She cried when he graduated from Hillfield Academy, because she would no longer see him at school every day. And she cried again when he went away to college, certain that her broken heart would never heal.

  By the time Josh came home with Daniel for Thanksgiving, she had a boyfriend. Mitch Harlowe—Missy’s younger brother—was a varsity athlete and an honor roll student with curly brown hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate. And he looked at her in a way that Josh never had—as if she was the most beautiful girl in the world and he was the luckiest boy in the world just to be with her.

  She dated Mitch for more than a year and a half, but they never went “all the way.” She was tempted, but she didn’t want to be one of “those girls.” They did a lot of other things, and Mitch was mostly patient with her—and undeniably relieved when she suggested that, maybe, after prom, they could finally “do it.” He was first in line the day prom tickets went on sale.

  She smiled a little at the memory, but her smile faded when her thoughts skipped ahead to that night—and an ending that neither of them had planned.

  “You were right,” Emily said, drawing Tristyn’s attention back to the screen where the human-again couple were sealing their wedding vows with a kiss. “It does have a happy ending.”

  “It’s not over yet,” Charlotte told her sister. “It’s not over until they show all the names of the people in the movie.”

  But a few minutes later, it was over.

  “Okay, girls,” Josh said from the doorway. “Time to get your shoes on.”

  “That’s my cue to head out,” Tristyn said to them.

  Josh looked slightly panicked as she made her way toward the door. “Do you have to go?”

  “You’re leaving, too,” she pointed out.

  “But I was thinking—hoping,” he admitted, “that you might come with us.”

  She didn’t delude herself into thinking that he wanted her company. The simple and obvious truth was that he had no clue what to do with the three little girls left in his care and he was desperate for help with them. And yet she couldn’t resist turning his own words around on him.

  “Why is that?” she asked, blatantly fluttering her eyelashes. “Does keeping up with three females require more stamina than you possess?”

  Chapter Three

  Josh slid an arm around her back and drew her closer. So close that her breasts rubbed against his chest. Even through the layers of clothing that separated them, she felt her nipples tighten and strain against the lace of her bra. She lifted her eyes to his, and the intensity in his gray gaze nearly made her shiver.

  “Do you want a demonstration of my stamina?” he asked.

  She wanted to push him away, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that his touch affected her. Instead, she rolled her eyes. “Not even in your dreams.”

  His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “You have no control over my dreams.”

  “Then definitely not in any version of reality,” she amended.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked, finally releasing her.

  “Positive,” she said, taking just a half step back so that she could breathe without his proximity short-circuiting her brain.

  And clearly her brain had short-circuited or she wouldn’t have baited him in such a way. Because even if she was no longer a teenager experiencing her first infatuation, compared to Josh Slater she was still a novice when it came to the games that men and women played.

  “In that case, there’s no reason you would object to accompanying me and the girls,” he suggested.

  He was right. For the past dozen years, most of their public interactions had been civil—if occasionally adversarial. It was only when they were alone together—which she tried to avoid, if at all possible—that they tiptoed around one another. But if she went along, they would have the barrier of three little girls to prevent them from rubbing one another the wrong way and creating a familiar and dangerously tempting friction.

  “Let’s go get you a phone,” she agreed.

  * * *

  As soon as they stepped through the doors of the electronics store, Charlotte and Emily made a beeline toward the video games on display. Josh opened his mouth to call them back just as a young salesman stepped up and Hanna announced, “I has to go potty.”

  With an apologetic glance toward the store employee, he shifted his attention to his youngest niece. “Why didn’t you go before we left home?”

  “I didn’t has to go before,” she said with unerring logic. “I has to go now.”

  He looke
d at the salesman, who shook his head. “Sorry, we don’t have any public restrooms here.”

  “There’s a coffee shop next door,” Tristyn pointed out. “I’ll take her there.”

  “Thank you,” Josh said.

  As they turned around and went back out the door, he caught up with Charlotte and Emily. “You can stay here to look at the games or whatever,” he told them. “But stay together.”

  “Okay,” they agreed, each already with a controller in hand and attention fixed on the demo game system.

  The hopeful employee was still hovering beside him—no doubt working on commission. “Can I help you find something, sir?”

  “I need a new phone,” he admitted, and handed over his dead—albeit squeaky clean—iPhone 7.

  Tristyn returned with Hanna just as the tech guy—who had been attempting to work magic on Josh’s SIM card—gave him the bad news: none of the information could be salvaged. Which wasn’t really a surprise but a disappointment nonetheless.

  “All of those names and numbers...gone?” Tristyn asked, feigning horror. “The cute little messages with kissy-face emojis from all of your girlfriends...gone? Your electronic little black book...gone?”

  He slid her a look. “No worries—I have a real little black book for all of the important names and numbers.”

  “I have no doubt,” she said.

  Josh passed his credit card to the salesman. A few minutes later, he walked out of the store with his new phone, which indicated the time to be 5:26 p.m.

  “I’m hungry, Uncle Josh,” Emily said.

  “It’s not even five thirty,” he noted. “What time do you guys usually eat?”

  “Five thirty,” Charlotte told him.

  “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” he acknowledged, mentally inventorying the contents of his refrigerator to determine if he had anything left to feed them. “What do you like to eat?”

  “Pizza,” Emily announced.

  “Chicken fingers,” Charlotte countered.

  “S’ghetti,” Hanna chimed in.

  “Well, at least we have a consensus,” he said drily.

  “What’s a sen-sus?” Emily asked.

  “It means agreement,” he told her.

  Her little brow furrowed.

  “He was being sarcastic,” her older sister explained.

  “Oh,” Emily said. Then, “What’s scar-tas-tic?”

  “Sarcastic.” Tristyn enunciated the word for her. “And it’s your uncle Josh’s way of trying to be funny, but he’s not.”

  “S’ghetti,” Hanna said again.

  “You had pasta for lunch,” Josh reminded her.

  “Not s’ghetti,” she argued.

  “What’s your vote, Tristyn?”

  A peek at her watch made her grimace. “Actually, I—” she glanced at the girls’ hopeful expressions “—I think going out to eat would allow everyone to choose what they wanted.”

  “And it would give my kitchen a reprieve,” he agreed.

  “I just need to make a quick call first,” Tristyn said.

  He offered his new phone.

  “I’ve got my own,” she reminded him, tapping the screen as she stepped away.

  “Can we go eat now?” Emily implored. “I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too,” Charlotte said.

  “As soon as Tristyn’s finished with her phone call, we’ll go.” He didn’t pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on her call, and though he heard only bits and pieces of one side of the conversation, it was enough pieces to put together and figure out she was canceling plans for dinner with someone else.

  “You had a date,” he said, when she’d disconnected the call.

  She nodded.

  “You didn’t have to cancel,” he told her, though he was secretly pleased that she’d done so. And grateful that she would be sticking around to help him out with the girls for a little while longer.

  “Well, my car’s still at your place, and by the time we drove back there and then I drove home to change, I would have been late, anyway.”

  “I’m sure your date wouldn’t mind waiting...especially if you promised to make it up to him later.”

  “So what’s the plan for dinner?” she asked, deliberately ignoring his comment.

  The question was answered with renewed calls for “pizza,” “chicken fingers” and “s’ghetti.”

  “All of those are on the menu at Valentino’s,” Tristyn pointed out.

  “But what do you want to eat?” he asked her, as he led the girls back to his truck.

  “Are you buying?”

  “It seems the least I can do to thank you for your help today,” he told her.

  “Then I want steak,” she decided. “A nice thick juicy steak.”

  He buckled Hanna into her booster seat, then stepped back so that Emily could climb into hers while Tristyn opened the door on the other side for Charlotte. “From Valentino’s?”

  “No, from The Grille. So I’ll have the seven-layer lasagna tonight and take an IOU for the steak.”

  He lifted a brow. “You’re trying to wrangle a date, aren’t you?”

  “Ha!”

  “Is that where you were supposed to go for dinner tonight?” he asked, settling behind the wheel and securing his own seat belt.

  “I’m not discussing my plans with you,” she told him.

  “Who was your date with?”

  “Refer to previous answer.”

  He should let it go. It really was none of his business, but he was curious. “Was it a first date?”

  “Refer to previous answer,” she said again.

  “Because I haven’t heard you mention that you were dating anyone.”

  “Should I add my social engagements to the itinerary of GSR’s monthly meetings?”

  “That would be helpful,” he agreed.

  “Well, it’s not happening,” she told him.

  Her response didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was how much he sincerely wanted answers to his questions. But for now, he decided to be satisfied with the knowledge that she’d canceled her date to have dinner with him.

  * * *

  The waitress introduced herself as Sydney, recited the daily specials as she handed out menus and filled their water glasses, then left them alone to peruse the offerings.

  Valentino’s didn’t specifically have a children’s menu, but they did offer child-sized portions of any of their entrées.

  Charlotte frowned as she scanned the options. “There’s no chicken fingers on the menu.”

  “The cook will make them,” Tristyn assured her.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’s made them for my niece before.”

  “I want pizza,” Emily reminded them all.

  Tristyn pointed to the section of the menu that listed the various options and toppings, but Emily wanted only cheese.

  “Pep-ro-ni,” Hanna said.

  “You said you wanted spaghetti,” Josh reminded her.

  His youngest niece shook her head. “P’za.”

  “Pizza with pepperoni?” he asked, seeking clarification.

  She nodded, and then said, “I has to go potty.”

  “You just went when we were at the store,” he reminded her.

  “I has to go agin,” she insisted.

  He looked at Tristyn, who sighed. “This is the real reason you offered to buy me dinner, isn’t it? So that you could escape bathroom duty.”

  “Well, I can’t take her into the men’s room, and there’s no way I’m walking into the women’s,” he pointed out.

  “I hafta go, too,” Emily said.

  “Charlotte?” Tristyn prompted.

 
; She shook her head.

  “Why don’t you come, anyway, to wash up before dinner?” Tristyn suggested.

  So she herded the three girls off to the ladies’ room, leaving Josh alone at a table for five. Thankfully, he knew what everyone wanted, so when Sydney passed by the table again, he was able to place their order.

  Charlotte and Hanna returned first, and Josh was settling his youngest niece into the booster seat again when Tristyn’s sister Jordyn came over. Jordyn was married to Marco Palermo, whose grandparents had started serving pasta in the original downtown location of Valentino’s almost fifty years earlier. Recently, Marco had spearheaded the expansion of their business with Valentino’s II. He and his wife had also recently expanded their family with the addition of twin boys, who were now about nine months old.

  “Gemma told me that Josh Slater had come in with four gorgeous females, which I thought was a little excessive—even for you.” Jordyn winked at him before turning her focus to the girls.

  “These are my nieces Charlotte and Hanna,” he told her. “Emily must still be in the bathroom.”

  “She stuck her hands up under the faucet and sprayed water all over her shirt,” Charlotte explained. “Tristyn’s drying it off under the hand dryer.”

  Jordyn’s brows lifted as she turned back to Josh. “My sister Tristyn?”

  “She’s the only Tristyn I know,” he acknowledged.

  “She was supposed to have a date with Rafe tonight.” Then she shook her head. “Apparently her plans changed.”

  “That might be my fault,” he acknowledged. “She saw that I was overwhelmed by the prospect of cooking another meal for three fussy kids and obviously took pity on me.”

  “We’re not fussy,” Charlotte interjected. “We just like what we like and don’t like what we don’t.”

  “Which is exactly what their mother used to say when she refused to eat what was put on the table,” he acknowledged.