Categories > Original > Romance > A Garrett for Christmas
CHAPTER TWO
When I needed to go out, I called Carlos. He helped me get my wheel chair loaded into my car. I had to wrestle the damn thing wherever I went. Then, I would call him from my cell to meet me as I returned to the complex.
Today, I called him and he responded with his usual sweetness. I fed my beta fish, turned off my computer and rolled myself outside. Sometimes locking the door exhausted me. Today it proved worse. I could hardly keep my chair on the ramp close enough to turn the key in the lock. It required three tries.
Success!
Swiveling, I rolled myself out to my car. Glancing about, I did not spot Carlos. So, I approached my car to wait.
“Miss Taylor?”
His deep voice caused me to flinch and shiver. Fantasies entertained during private moments returned to haunt. I pivoted my chair. The sight of him in scuffed brown cowboy boots, faded jeans and a simple dark blue tee slammed me. With his overwhelming beauty, how could this man-god touch Earth?
His straight black brows lowered. “Miss Taylor, are you okay?”
I stared at him, unable to speak. He strode closer and I retreated in my chair. A tree root making itself a villain in breaking up the parking lot furthered its career. My chair tipped.
Powerful arms caught me mid-shriek.
He delivered me into the driver’s seat of my little VW Golf. I sat there, scattered, mortified and overwhelmed as the closest thing to a living god I had seen, collected my wheel chair and loaded it into my car. I could still feel his arms around me.
“Miss Taylor,” he said, leaning in to completely intimidate me, “please consider me as an assistant next time.”
I dragged the scent of him into my lungs, healthy male animal, amber and wood, as I forced my gaze away. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.”
#
The following morning, I woke to pounding.
“Hey, crip!”
Recognizing Pierce’s voice, I dragged myself from bed to wheel chair. I rolled myself to open the door.
She sauntered in looking fresh and sharp. Black hair nearly to her waist, dressed in boy shorts and a tee printed with small brass knuckles and pistols, she twirled about and shut the door behind herself. “Wheel girl.” She grinned. “I saw Big and Hard-on approach you yesterday.”
I pivoted and rolled to my computer. “I have not even worked since he moved in.”
Pierce slammed closed the door, strolled to the couch and flopped onto it. “What is it you do?”
I pulled up my email. “I manage a small site devoted to handicap evaluations for businesses.” Forty-seven missives waited.
Pierce lolled on the couch. “Get any contacts?”
I smiled. “A few.”
“You’re smarter than most people,” she replied, “smarter than me. You’ll always do well.”
Intrigued, I returned, “What makes you think so?” I could see her in my periphery.
She shrugged in her reclined position. “Dunno. Don’t give a crap. Just know.”
I opened a few mail, enjoying her silent presence.
After some time, my guest surged to her feet. “Well, I’m off to a body paint expo.”
I laughed. “Take pictures.”
Pierce grinned wickedly over her shoulder as she reached to let herself out. “Tough, since I’m one of the models.”
When I needed to go out, I called Carlos. He helped me get my wheel chair loaded into my car. I had to wrestle the damn thing wherever I went. Then, I would call him from my cell to meet me as I returned to the complex.
Today, I called him and he responded with his usual sweetness. I fed my beta fish, turned off my computer and rolled myself outside. Sometimes locking the door exhausted me. Today it proved worse. I could hardly keep my chair on the ramp close enough to turn the key in the lock. It required three tries.
Success!
Swiveling, I rolled myself out to my car. Glancing about, I did not spot Carlos. So, I approached my car to wait.
“Miss Taylor?”
His deep voice caused me to flinch and shiver. Fantasies entertained during private moments returned to haunt. I pivoted my chair. The sight of him in scuffed brown cowboy boots, faded jeans and a simple dark blue tee slammed me. With his overwhelming beauty, how could this man-god touch Earth?
His straight black brows lowered. “Miss Taylor, are you okay?”
I stared at him, unable to speak. He strode closer and I retreated in my chair. A tree root making itself a villain in breaking up the parking lot furthered its career. My chair tipped.
Powerful arms caught me mid-shriek.
He delivered me into the driver’s seat of my little VW Golf. I sat there, scattered, mortified and overwhelmed as the closest thing to a living god I had seen, collected my wheel chair and loaded it into my car. I could still feel his arms around me.
“Miss Taylor,” he said, leaning in to completely intimidate me, “please consider me as an assistant next time.”
I dragged the scent of him into my lungs, healthy male animal, amber and wood, as I forced my gaze away. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.”
#
The following morning, I woke to pounding.
“Hey, crip!”
Recognizing Pierce’s voice, I dragged myself from bed to wheel chair. I rolled myself to open the door.
She sauntered in looking fresh and sharp. Black hair nearly to her waist, dressed in boy shorts and a tee printed with small brass knuckles and pistols, she twirled about and shut the door behind herself. “Wheel girl.” She grinned. “I saw Big and Hard-on approach you yesterday.”
I pivoted and rolled to my computer. “I have not even worked since he moved in.”
Pierce slammed closed the door, strolled to the couch and flopped onto it. “What is it you do?”
I pulled up my email. “I manage a small site devoted to handicap evaluations for businesses.” Forty-seven missives waited.
Pierce lolled on the couch. “Get any contacts?”
I smiled. “A few.”
“You’re smarter than most people,” she replied, “smarter than me. You’ll always do well.”
Intrigued, I returned, “What makes you think so?” I could see her in my periphery.
She shrugged in her reclined position. “Dunno. Don’t give a crap. Just know.”
I opened a few mail, enjoying her silent presence.
After some time, my guest surged to her feet. “Well, I’m off to a body paint expo.”
I laughed. “Take pictures.”
Pierce grinned wickedly over her shoulder as she reached to let herself out. “Tough, since I’m one of the models.”
Sign up to rate and review this story