Page 42 of Fall to Me
One minute my feet are on the floor, and the next they’re linked behind Carter’s waist. As he spins us, I giggle. It takes me back to the day I moved in. I see what he’s doing. He’s making sure I’m okay, and if I’m not, this is his way of bringing me back to him. The spinning stops, and he presses his forehead against mine, swaying us back and forth while singing to me. We dance around the living room until the song ends, then he carries me into the kitchen and deposits me onto the counter. Standing between my legs with a goofy grin, he pulls the remote from his pocket.
“Ah, so that’s where it went.” I laugh as he leans around me to turn the next song down until it’s barely audible.
He straightens up and stares into my eyes with his gorgeous blue ones. “Hi, baby. How was your day?”
“It was busy. Thank you for lunch. I wouldn’t have had time to eat at all if it weren’t for you.”
“You’re welcome.” He surrenders a sweet smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Taking a step back, he tosses a cup towel onto his shoulder. “I was about to make dinner.”
I’ve never been good at small talk, but I ask anyway. “Carter?”
“Yeah?” He turns his head to me.
I can do this. I can give this a real try.
“How was your day?”
He smiles at my question, and while he preps our food, he fills me in on how his day went, then goes on to tell me how Luke was riding Sean Mac’s ass during the entire practice.
“The man has always been fair. You know? But you can tell he is not a Mac fan. And Sean tries so hard to please him. He does everything right, but Coach . . .”
“Won’t give him a chance?” I finish for him.
He nods, turning back to the dish and putting it in the oven.
“Is that how you feel?”
The words fly out of my mouth before I can shove them back in.
His brows furrow, and he leans a hip against the counter with his arms crossed. “What do you mean?”
“With me. Is that how you feel with me? That you do everything right and still, I’ve been difficult?”
Carter takes a few steps and stands in front of me running his hands down my thighs. “You wanna know what I feel with you? Alive. I feel alive when I’m with you. I understand the reasons behind your apprehension, but maybe you need to understandthe reasons behind my pursuit. There’s no one else like you. No one lights me up the way you do. No one makes me feel the way you do. I’m a very patient man, Kitten. You’re already mine, I’m just waiting for you to catch up.”
I lick my lips, and his eyes flick down to follow the movement. “What if I don’t. Catch up, I mean?”
“Oh, you will. Doesn’t matter when. One day. One week. One year. What matters is that you will.” He winks.
And the cocky little shit is back.
Dinner comes and goes, and as we sit on the couch, winding down and drinking wine, we talk about everything. His family and mine. How we grew up. What our childhoods and teens were like. Our conversation flows so naturally. His white button-up dress shirt falls open a little when he shifts, and resting on top of the tattoos on his chest is a thin gold chain. What is it about men with tattoos and jewelry?Good grief.He hits me with those dimples, and this time, I know exactly why they call them “the panty droppers”.
“You’re lying.” He laughs.
Taking a sip of my wine, I giggle, shaking my head. “Nope. I swear to you. You can literally drive down the highway, look into your rearview mirror, and see a golf cart or side by side driving behind you.”
“Is that even legal?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Who knows . . . but it’s one of the quirky things I love about Stroud, Oklahoma.”
Carter sets his wine glass down on the coffee table, then leans back with his elbow on the back of the couch; his head resting on his hand.
“I would love to see it.”
I toy with my bottom lip, thinking carefully about what I’m about to do. “Do you golf?”
“Oh, yeah.” He chuckles. “I could tell you some outrageous stories about my time out on the golf course.”
