Page 68 of Hot Shot

Mr. Garner’s eyes narrow. “No.”

Mrs. Garner’s eyes light up with interest. “No, we didn’t.” She slants Carrie a questioning glance. Carrie gives her a weak smile.

I end up sitting between Carrie and her dad, who immediately starts grilling me about my life. Well, maybe he’s making conversation, but there’s an intensity to the questions that makes them feel not so casual.

Carrie buzzes around still arranging things as more people enter the big room, and then the music starts. I don’t recognize it, but clearly a lot of the older people in the room do as they head to the dance floor. Grandma bops in her chair.

“Come dance, Grandma!” Carrie holds out a hand and helps her grandmother out of the chair, leading her onto the dance floor with a swing of her hips.

My eyes stay glued to Carrie as she dances. She’s not the best dancer—she didn’t inheritthatfrom her grandma—but she’s still sexy as fuck, with her sleek bare arms and legs and that luminous smile.

For a moment, I turn my attention to Grandma Garner, taking in the expression of joy on her face as she dances. Yeah, she was a dancer, all right. Despite her age I can tell she was quite the performer in her younger days. There’s still something about the way she moves that draws attention, a kind of star quality.

The music changes to a slower tune and this time I recognize the voice of Frank Sinatra. An older gentleman approaches Carrie and her grandma and appears to ask Grandma to dance. With a bright smile, she nods and steps into his arms and they begin a slow waltz.

Carrie’s smile is so full of tenderness and love as she walks back to the table and slips into the chair next to me it makes my heart turn over in my chest. I slip an arm along the back of her chair—I’m her boyfriend after all, it’s perfectly appropriate—and lean closer to her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

She blinks at me in surprise, then the corners of her mouth lift in a wistful smile. “You know . . . I kind of got to hate it when people told me that.”

I go still, searching her face.

She shrugs. “It just felt kind of demeaning after a while: ‘You’re beautiful,’ ‘you’re gorgeous,’ ‘you have an amazing body.’”

“Those things are all true.”

Her smile goes crooked. “Maybe. But those are things I can’t help. I was born this way. I’ve told you how I feel like I’m different on the inside than on the outside, and when people only see the outside and compliment me on it, it doesn’t feel like something I’ve done. I don’t know how to explain it.” She pauses. “Hayden’s finding a cure for cancer.”

I nod, not sure where that came from.

“My whole family is a bunch of overachievers with amazing careers and family. And I stand there and look pretty in front of a camera. What have I really accomplished? Nothing.”

“Carrie. That’s not true.”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. What I was trying to say was, I got to hate hearing that. And when we first met, and you flirted with me, I thought it was the same, that it didn’t mean anything. But now, when you say it . . . it feels real.”

I look at her for a long moment, trying to make sense of what she said. I get it. “Oh it’s real, all right. Want to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

I rise and take her hand and we join the other couples on the dance floor, the red lights and the sultry music creating a sexy atmosphere. Everyone seems to be loving it.

“Your grandma looks like she’s in heaven.”

Carrie beams. “She does. This was so worth it.” Then her forehead creases. “Um, why does Lauren think you’re my boyfriend?”

“Julia told her that. She had to have some reason that she knew me and that’s what she came up with on the spot.” I smile down at Carrie, her hand curled around mine as we move to the music. “I just went along with it.”

“Oh. Damn.” She sighs. “I get it, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Well, this just complicates things, doesn’t it?”

I lift one shoulder, watching her face and the thoughts I can almost see flitting through her head. “Whatever. You’re leaving, remember? It won’t complicate things for long.”

“Right.” Her eyes shadow and she stares at the top button of my shirt.

“It’s okay, Carrie. Not a big deal.”

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