Page 69 of Debts and Desires
“And then we’ll drive somewhere and pull over so I can eat that pretty pussy while you’re on the hood.” My smile disappeared, replaced with strong desire.
“Okay.” My voice was quieter. He smirked and without taking his eyes off of me, he reached for the key in the ignition and?—
“Mother fucker!” He turned to face his hand, trying the ignition once more. When the engine still didn’t turn over, heslapped the steering wheel, then tossed his hat hard into the window. Carter leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavy. A bead of sweat dripped down from his temple to his cheek.
“Maybe we should call it a day?” I offered. “Go home and eat, shower, and relax in the AC?” He let out a low groan and sat up, scrubbing his face. It would be the first night all week that we went home instead of to Pete’s.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding tired. “That sounds good.” He grabbed his hat and got out. I did the same, feeling a little guilty about not being able to help him, even if I didn’t know the first thing about cars.
After locking up, we headed out.
When we arrived home, Carter parked his truck and got out, slamming the door behind him. When he got over to me, however, he was a little more calm. Once I was out, he headed to the front door.
“How’s my baby dog!” I greeted, smiling at Mac when we entered the house. I patted his head, making his tail wag. “No, don’t look at him. Your dad’s being grumpy,” I said. Carter snorted, giving a small grin, but said nothing as he finished kicking off his work boots. I realized that by calling Carter Mac’s dad and calling Mac my baby that I’d unofficially given myself the title of Mac’s mom. Which wasn’t all that bad. Carter must have thought something similar because he was now looking at me, cheeks red.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked, being the first to look away.
“Leftovers. It’s quick and easy. I’m hungry now, but I need to shower.”
“Okay.” I went to move, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me. He kissed the top of my head.
“Thank you, baby.” And then he headed upstairs, leaving me dumbfounded.
While I waited, I worked on my song. I only had a few lines left and it would be finished. It was like the sky opened up and athought was placed in my head. There was something about being home that helped me relax sometimes. I scribbled the ideas, rearranging them until I had it finished. Then I carefully copied it all to a blank page, smiling like an idiot over the fact that it was finally done. I couldn’t wait to show Carter. I realized I was excited to show someone my song for the first time. Ever. It was a weird feeling. What was weirder, however, was I realized I had started referring to Carter’s house as home, too. And of course, the thing with Mac.
I didn’t mind in the least bit.
When he came back from his shower, I practically ran over to him and showed him the finished song. He sat on the arm of the couch as he looked it all over.
I was thrown off when Carter started to hum as he read the lyrics. But it was a little different from what I’d written.Better.
“Do you know the chords?” I asked. He looked up. “From looking at them, I mean?”
“Yeah. But I’ve also been hearin’ you sing it.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s great, Em.” His expression softened as he smiled.
“No issues?”
“None.”
“Anything to add, lyrics wise?”
“Nope.”
“Any pointers?” The pitch of my voice raised some. I was really hoping he’d get the hint. “Like what you were humming?” It seemed to dawn on him then, and he smiled.
“Well, if you want to add a little somethin’ extra,” he said, standing and looking around until he located my guitar. I almost laughed at his wording, but decided not to. I liked when the deep southern boy came out of him. He pulled the guitar to him, holding it. The image was probably one of the hottest things I’d ever seen. Carter shirtless, his arm muscles moving as he strummed the chords.
“Wait, youplay?” I asked, having only thought he could read the music. He nodded and I felt like an idiot. Of course, he knewhow to play. How else would he know the chords? Come to think of it, Ihadseen a guitar case under his bed when I was cleaning up in there a few weeks ago. Since I’d been pretty much staying in his room with him, he cleaned out a couple of drawers and some space in the closet for me. I was looking for a place to stash one of my suitcases when I’d seen it.
“Can you show me again?” I asked. He raised a brow. “I was too distracted from how sexy you look right now.” Carter only shook his head, strumming once more. I quickly grabbed my notebook and wrote down the few things he played. And he was right. They did add a little something extra.
Normally, I hated when anyone tried to tell me anything aboutmysongs. In this scenario, Carter wasn’t critiquing me like everyone else in my past. He was giving me tools to help me further succeed. And to me, that spoke volumes.
“And I think…” he trailed, looking over the music in my hands once more. “If you sing the first ‘girl’ low and the second one high while doing this,” he strummed again, “That it’ll boost it up more.” I stared at him, smiling. I never believed in fate until I met Carter. How? How had I found the most frustrating, arrogant, crass, sexy, musical genius who could make me come until I saw heaven? He looked at me and started to blush.
