Page 13 of After All

“As you wish,” he says with a wink and navigates his way through the growing crowd.

He just quoted The Princess Bride, he’s smooth on the dance floor, and I have zero aversion — so far anyway — to him touching me?? Who is this man? And who is this version of me?

I close my eyes and perform a quick breathing exercise or two to clear my thoughts. They’re racing to the point of madness, and I need to get myself together.

A breeze drifts over me from someone sitting down beside me, and anticipating it being Carter, I smile and open my eyes. “That was fa?—”

“Hi,” says a man who’s most definitely not Carter, with a very off-putting smile.

“Umm, hi?”

Not-Carter fake-laughs and reaches out towards my knee, and I jump up so quickly, I nearly trip over the table behind me.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” His drawl is far too put-on, and his eyes look everywhere but my face.

“What’s wrong is I don’t like random people sitting down next to me and touching me.” As soon as the words fall out of my mouth, I realize that’s exactly what Carter did not even half an hour earlier. I regret the next words that tumble from my lips on accident. “Well, not usually, anyway.”

“Well, this can be one of those unusual times, then, right?”

I shake my head adamantly. “No. It can’t, actually. I’m waiting on someone.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Listen to those manners. Such a proper southern lady.” His smile gets even skeevier and smarmier, and I’m so very close to bolting until I feel a hand rest on my left hip. This touch settles me instead of setting me on edge.

It’s Carter.

I shift my weight to one leg so the curve of my hip would push harder into his palm and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Can I help you?”

“I was just talking to the little lady here, that’s all. Nothing to get worked up over.” He stands, lifting his hands, and the lapels of his jacket spread open.

“He doesn’t have a pass,” I whisper out the side of my mouth.

“I see that,” he murmurs back, very close to my ear. “Just roll with me, okay?”

I nod, not quite sure what he means or where he’s going, but convinced he won’t steer me wrong.

You’ve known the man for 30 minutes.

I tell the voice in my head to shut up and perk my ear towards the man beside me.

“No hard feelings, huh? Join us for a drink.”

The man is as surprised as I am, but he nods and sits back down in Carter’s chair. I’m not sure where we’ll all sit until Carter maneuvers himself behind me, sitting and pulling me down onto his knee.

“This okay?”

“Surprisingly.”

Another hum of approval and a squeeze of my hip creates more of those seldom, yet welcome, feelings below my belt.

Carter pulls out his phone and taps out a quick text before slipping it into my back pocket. I feel the buzz of a reply, but Carter couldn’t care less about a response.

Before the man in front of us can lift his beer to his lips, the security guy from earlier walks up. “This him, Mr. Ortiz?”

---