Garret (Jade #7)by Allie Everhart
Release Date: September 19th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
This full-length novel is Garret’s point of view from CHOOSING YOU (The Jade Series #1)
My life is nothing but rules. Rules for how I act. How I dress. Who I date. Who my friends are. I hate the rules and yet I keep following them. Until I met Jade. Being with her is forbidden. She’s not one of us. She’s not allowed in my world. But I don’t care. She’s different and I like her and I want her. And the fact that she wants nothing to do with me makes me want her even more.
But my father won’t allow it. Neither will the people around me. Being with Jade means making deals, blackmail, bribes--whatever it takes to keep my relationship with her a secret.
Jade has no idea what my life is like. She doesn’t know the rules. She doesn’t know about my family and what they’re involved in. And although I can’t tell her all my secrets, there’s one rule she must know: Never ask questions. It’s a rule that I live by. Because in my world, knowing the answers can get you killed.
GARRET
by Allie Everhart
As I approach the car, I’m disappointed when the ass I was admiring suddenly turns the opposite direction. I’m left with a view of the tan, athletic legs which are topped with an overstuffed black garbage bag. Small hands move up and down the front of the bag, trying to hold on to it as clothes seep out the bottom onto the ground.
A voice mumbles from behind the giant bag. “Shit, I knew I should’ve got—”
“Can I help?” I go over and pick up three black tank tops from the ground. I offer them to her. “Here, you take these and I’ll take the bag. It looks heavy.”
“I can handle heavy,” she says as she snatches the tank tops from me. She turns around, giving me another glimpse of that cute little ass.
The bag starts to teeter side to side. Despite what she said, she clearly can’t handle that bag. It’s practically twice her size and in about two seconds she’s going to drop it and everything inside it’s going to spill out onto the parking lot.
She knows I’m still there and says, “You can go now. We don’t need any help.”
We?
A guy holding a large box appears next to her. Where the hell did he come from? I didn’t notice him when I walked over here. Is he her boyfriend? Must be, although he looks a few years older than her. He’s kind of got that hipster artist look going with wavy brown hair that hangs down by his chin. But his clothes are just basic khaki shorts and a navy t-shirt, which doesn’t at all fit the artsy types I know who try to make a statement by wearing bold colors or patterns, or t-shirts with the names of bands nobody’s ever heard of.
Artsy Guy notices me and clears his throat. “Um, Jade, why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Jade. That’s an interesting name. I’ve never met someone with that name.
The girl turns around, the bag still blocking her face, and all I can see is a small hand sticking out. “Hi, I’m Jade. Nice to meet you.”
I peer around the bag but it’s so big I can’t even see her face. “I think you’re in there somewhere. You sure you don’t want some help with that bag?”
She doesn’t answer as she struggles to keep hold of it.
This is so strange. What girl doesn’t let a guy hold shit for her? Every girl I’ve ever dated tries to make me hold her shit; her purse, her shopping bags, her sunglasses. I never do, because most girls never ask. They demand. And I don’t do demands.
I watch as the garbage bag sways to the side, the tear on the bottom splitting open even more. I reach under the bag and attempt to take it from her. She reluctantly lets me have it. It’s not that heavy and I’m almost a foot taller than her so I’m easily able to hold it in one arm as I extend my other arm and offer her my hand. “Hi. I’m Garret.”
Now that she’s not hidden by the bag, I can finally see the owner of those legs and that hot ass. And holy shit. She’s beautiful. Her features are small, delicate. I’m instantly drawn to her lips, which are full and the perfect shade of pink even though they’re free of any lipstick. She has dark brown hair that’s almost the exact same color as mine, and she has it in a ponytail with loose strands hanging down around her face and neck.
She’s wearing a white tank top and although I usually try to be more discreet, I can’t help but glance down at her breasts, which are larger than I would expect from someone as tiny as her. As she leans toward me to shake my hand I can see some cleavage and damn, she’s got nice breasts. Combine those with the legs and the ass and shit, she’s so freaking hot it’s causing movement where there shouldn’t be, at least not while standing in a parking lot in front of a girl I just met.
She looks up at me and as soon as I see her eyes, I’m lost. I love green eyes. I always have, but hers are the most gorgeous shade of green I’ve ever seen. They’re surrounded by thick black lashes that aren’t coated in that black clumpy shit girls put on their eyelashes. Her skin is flawless and I notice she’s not wearing any makeup. There’s nothing on her eyes, her lips, her cheeks. It’s not a look I’m used to. Most girls around here wear so much makeup I wouldn’t even recognize them without it. Personally I think girls look ten times better without makeup. This girl definitely looks good without it.
Damn, she’s hot. She’s more than hot. She’s gorgeous. And I don’t toss that word around easily.
The more I look at her, the more I want to keep looking at her. When it comes to girls I never thought I had a type, but I do now. This girl is definitely my type. I don’t know who she is but I have to find out.
Allie Everhart writes about dating, love, and romance. She’s also a freelance writer for magazines and websites. Before freelancing, she was a book editor for a publishing company where she worked on several NYT bestselling nonfiction books. She loves to read as much as she loves to write. And when she’s not reading or writing, she’s outside running, which is when she gets her best book ideas.
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