Page 17 of Practice Makes Perfect

Billie rolls her eyes at me. “I should have known Mister Golden Vocal Cords over here would sing him to sleep,” she snarks with a smile. JJ climbs off her lap and into his bed.

As I pull the sheets up and over his small body, I look over at her with a raised brow. “We could always do a duet, you know.” I grab JJ’s stuffed dog Mr. Buttons and hand it to him. “What do you say?”

Billie leans against the wall, her head slowly moving from side to side. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just settle in and watch the show from here.”

Shrugging, I turn back to my nephew and sing one of his favorite songs that we’ve done as a lullaby many times. As I start a slowed down version of “Count on Me” by Bruno Mars, I brush JJ’s hair away from his face and gently rub his stomach to help soothe him into sleep. The longer I sing, the heavier his eyelids get and by the time I sing the last note, he’s practically asleep. Kissing his forehead, I whisper an ‘I love you,’ and stand. When I turn to look at Billie, her expression is inscrutable, but she smiles and nods her head at the door.

Once we’re outside and out of JJ’s earshot, she wanders over to the kitchen and starts cleaning up from our night with the little guy. “You’re really good with him,” she proclaims as she loads dishes into the dishwasher.

Scooting around the counter to help her, I shoot her a knowing look. “You are too. You just don’t give yourself enough credit.” Billie is wonderful, but I think she’s told herself that she’s nothing more than her appearance for so long that she started to believe it. Maybe if I tell her how great she is enough times she’ll start to believe that instead.

Her mouth twists. “Maybe not,” she says, turning to look at me straight. “But you definitely don’t either. Between the woodworking, the singing, and how great you are with Little J, you could have women lining up around the block for you.” She points at the phone sticking out of my pocket. “You just need to try.”

With a huff, I focus on drying the dishes and not on listening to something I don’t want to hear. “I have tried.” Not for a long time, and even though I do really want to try again, having Billie in my life has made doing that difficult because when I think about dating, she’s the only person that comes to mind.

“Not lately.” She stills my hands and tugs on them until I face her once more. Her expression softens and she lightens her tone. “Will you please let me really help you?”

Hearing her beg me to find someone else to date is like a punch in the gut. “Why are you so eager to see me with someone?” A thought occurs to me and I wonder why I hadn’t considered it earlier. Billie is much more of a social creature than I am, but she’s been spending most of her time with me. “Am I cramping your style or something? You don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to. I mean, if you want to go out around town and meet other people I get it.” Heavy emotions clog my throat at the thought of her seeing other guys, but if that’s what she wants, I won’t stand in her way. At the end of the day, seeing her happy is more important than my silly crush. Even as I think it, I know that what I feel is way more than that, but I’ not sure I can face that at the moment.

“Carter,” she sighs. She sounds exasperated as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “You aren’t cramping my style.” When her eyes meet mine, they shine with sincerity. “I meet plenty of new people at the store, but that’s not the point. Seeing how great you are with JJ, and knowing that you want that for yourself, well, I just want you to be happy. You should get to have people of your own.” She smiles sadly at me and bumps my shoulder. “You can’t tell me you don’t want that too.”

Exhaling slowly, I nod. “I do, but it’s been so long and I was never great with women to begin with. If I go out there now after all this time, I’m going to make an even bigger fool of myself than I did years go.” The idea of meeting up with strange women and seeing their disappointment has my gut twisting in knots.

“Ugh, Carter,” Billie censures. Grabbing my hand, she drags me over to the couch and pulls me to sit next to her. “You are a great guy, but your confidence level sucks. Going out on more dates will help you feel better about your ability to do it.”

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I sigh, exasperated with myself. “I know.” My head hits the back of the couch and I study the exposed beams on the ceiling before rolling my head to look at her. “How am I supposed to gain confidence from dating when the idea of dating is what is ruining my confidence? It’s not like school where I could take a practice test or something. There is no such thing as practice dating.”

Billie’s expression goes from stern to thoughtful, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “What if there was though?” As I stare at her in confusion, she rolls her eyes and scoots closer to me. “What if there was a way for you to practice dating?”

If only that were really a thing. “That would be great, but the last time I checked, it doesn’t exist.” I turn my gaze back to the ceiling, only for it to be pulled back by Billie’s fingers on my cheek. Her fingers scratch against my stubble, causing pleasure to zip up my spine. The other part of not dating and being celibate for years is that I’m so touch starved that even the slightest graze of her skin against mine has me clawing at the insides of my skin with need. I want to lean into her touch, but it’s gone before I can, though the lingering warmth on my face travels down and into my chest, settling in my heart and setting up base camp. I’m so fucked.

As I continue to stare at her, her smile turns coquettish and I wait for the inevitable teasing that she loves to throw at me, but it never comes. “You could practice date me.”

I stare blankly for a moment. As soon as the words register, so does the feeling of complete and utter joy that rushes through my body like a group of stampeding elk down Main Street, but there is no way I could have heard her correctly. Either that or she’s just being her usual, flirty self. “Yeah, right,” I hedge, studying her face for any signs that she’s just messing with me.

Billie scoots closer to me, her smile looking far less coy and much more genuine. “I was being serious, Carter,” she confesses. For a moment, I wonder if I fell asleep and this is some wonderful dream, but when I reach down and pinch myself, the pain shooting through my forearm tells me it’s very real. “Come on, it’s a good idea. You’ve been such a good friend to me and I’ve only been here a few weeks. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” She leans in closer and whispers in my ear. “I promise to make it fun.”

That has my brain and my body on high alert, especially my dick who has not had much fun in almost a decade, but it’s quickly replaced when a queasy feeling settles in my stomach when I think about having her for a short time only to have to let her go. Being with Billie only as practice for someone else feels wrong, unnatural. Unless of course, over the course of our practicing, I can convince her that I could be the right guy for her. Practice makes perfect after all, and anytime I think about the absolute force of a woman next to me, I think we could be pretty perfect together. Billie is so incredible, and if she’s willing to help me boost my confidence, who’s to say I can’t use that newfound appreciation for myself to get her to appreciate me too? Hoping that my plan doesn’t backfire, I search her eyes for a moment before the words I know will forever change my life rush past my lips. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Twelve

Billie

The words “let’s do it” coming out of Carter’s plump, juicy lips that are raised just enough in the corner to show a hint of the more devilish side of him have my mind taking a swan dive directly into the gutter as images of the two of us flash through my mind. Carter and me naked together in my bed, his bed, in the shower, and in the workshop all come to the forefront of my brain, though I am sure we would end up with sawdust in places that it never belongs if we actually tried to have sex in the workshop. The longer I think about these scenarios, the more I’m patting myself on the back for the brilliant idea I just presented to him. What I’m thinking must register on my face because Carter’s eyes bug wide and a blush creeps up his neck and cheeks.

“Not do it do it, but you know, let’s do the whole practice dating thing,” he blurts. All signs of the devil on his shoulder are gone as the angel takes the reins once more. Now more than ever, I’m determined to see that more playful side of him come out to play and stay out for more than a few seconds. If anyone needs to indulge himself with a little fun, it’s Carter, and if I can help him gain enough confidence to go out there and do that a little more often, I’ll be happy. Carter has been such a big help to me, it’s only natural that I offer up my services in return. Yeah, sure. That’s why you’re doing this. Admitting to anything beyond that isn’t something I’m ready to confront just yet, especially since it involves a lot of self-reflection and how even though I’m not sure what direction my life is heading in, I can’t help but want to drag the one person who seems to see me for who I really am along for the ride.

Placing that mess of emotions on a shelf to ponder later, I look over at the nervous man next to me. “Great.” I shift so that I can face Carter more and smile when he mimics my posture. “First things first. We should list off what you want to practice.”

Carter’s blush deepens and I make my own list of things to bring up later when he doesn’t look like he’s about to turn into a literal beetroot. Rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous gesture of his that I find more endearing the more I see it, he dips his head down and peers up at me through unfairly long eyelashes. “I’m not sure. I mean, we could go out to dinner or maybe do a trial run of a real date?”

He looks and sounds so unsure, a bit like a lost puppy that I want to pull him into my chest and keep him safe from others forever. That won’t be helpful, though, and even though I know I have my own selfish reasons for doing this that I may or may not examine later, above that, I want to be an actual help to him too. Moving quickly, I grip Carter’s strong shoulders and straddle his lap, sitting on his thighs. It would be so easy to slide a little further and just start grinding, but I’m pushing boundaries enough as it is and I don’t want to do anything he doesn’t want. His eyes stay glued to where my ass meets his legs for a moment before they shoot up to mine, and only then do I speak. “Carter, we have dinner every night, have gone out to eat, and gone out hiking together. You were an active listener and total gentleman the entire time. I don’t think us sharing a meal at the local steakhouse is going to give you the confidence boost you need.”

Carter nods and licks his lips nervously. “What do you suggest then?” His gaze flicks to my mouth, and that’s all the indication I need that he would be on board with what I’m planning. Still, he’s so skittish that I have to come at this slowly and carefully, like a lion stalking its prey. When I think about being with Carter, words like devour and ravage are definitely ones that come to mind, but I can’t be too forward, not yet.

“What I’m suggesting is that you embrace your Viking heritage a little more.” Grabbing and releasing his hands that have been balled up at his sides, I place them on the small of my back and lean in. My own hands drop to his chest, and when his breath hitches then exhales shakily, my stomach flips.

Have I ever had this kind of effect on anyone? Doubtful. The guys I’ve been with before were basically male versions of me, full of confidence and singularly focused on getting to the good part. Carter looks like he’s coming undone at the seams and we’ve barely even started. What makes it even more unbelievable is knowing that it’s not just because he finds me attractive or sexy, but because he likes who I am. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever openly complimented me on my appearance. It’s evident enough in how he looks at me, but him making sure I know how much he appreciates everything else first has me feeling like a half-baked brownie, all warm and gooey inside. Now it’s time to return the favor.

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