Page 78 of The Jackpot Screwer
Despite how girly Bronte was, and how Ellie could punch like a guy, their views on the perfect wedding were the total opposite of what you’d expect. Bronte was all for eloping and then having hot sex in a seedy Vegas motel.
“And I would,” she replied and turned to Ellie, who had a forkful of food paused at her open mouth. “No offense, Ellie, but the church and big dress thing isn’t for me.”
“None taken,” my sister replied and then shoved her food into her mouth.
Bronte swiveled in her chair, effectively turning her back on Hunter. “I don’t want that, but I did think you might have wanted the three of us to all have the same name.”
“That’s your reason for wanting to be married?” I asked. “Because if it is, it’s not romantic.”
“Sometimes, Carter you’re as dumb as a watermelon.” She dropped her head into her hands. “This is ridiculous, you just don’t understand where I’m coming from.”
“You’re right,” I replied with a shrug. “I don’t.” Having managed to snap that last nerve I’d spoken about, I threw my napkin to the table. I then reached for my wallet from my back pocket. “Sorry about this, guys, but I think I’m gonna go.”
“Carter, buddy,” Hunter protested. “Don’t be a dick and just eat your dinner.”
I shook my head and threw some cash on the table. I loved the woman next to me with all my damn heart, and would give my life for her, but at that moment I had no damn clue how to deal with her. I’d tried to do everything she’d asked of me—give her space, show her commitment, just generally be the man she deserved, but now she was being downright awkward. I’d already had a shit day, having to put a two-year-old dog to sleep because of an inoperable tumor on its spine. Then I’d had to try and comfort the young couple who’d treated that pup like a kid because they couldn’t have children. They were devastated and it had been hard to hold them and myself together. Dinner was the last thing I’d wanted to do but I’d done it because Hunter and my sister invited us, and because Bronte was excited to go out. The conversation though had just damn well soured my already rock-bottom mood.
“Sorry, Hunt, but I’m beat. I’ve had a real shitty day. That’s for the tip.” I turned to Bronte. “You coming with me or getting a ride home with Ellie and Hunter?”
Her bottom lip trembled for a second and then she cleared her throat and straightened up. “I’m going to stay and enjoy the rest of my dinner. I’ll see you at home later.”
Nodding I ran a hand down her hair. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Waiting outside for my Uber, I almost wished I smoked. A cigarette at that point might well have calmed me because, for the first time ever, I wondered whether Bronte and I were ever going to make it.
Lying alone in our huge bed, I didn’t think I’d ever felt so ashamed of myself. At dinner I’d acted like a totally spoiled bitch. No wonder Carter was passed out cold on the sofa with Mani when I got home.
He was right, if he had asked me to marry him, I’d have always wondered if it was because of the baby. He was also right when he said I wouldn’t have wanted any engagement pictures. They’d have to be from the neck up and what would be the point of that. Engagement pictures were almost as important as wedding pictures. They captured that moment when you initially pledged your life to each other; when the girl first knows for certain her man loves her.
I had no clue why I’d been so adamant that we talk about it. I lied, of course I knew why. It was jealousy at Ellie and Hunter’s excitement; they were building a house and would soon be planning a wedding. I kind of felt that Carter and I had skipped the important bits, the exciting bits. Not that having a baby wasn’t exciting, it was the best thing to ever happen to me, but it made me feel old. We were going to be parents, no longer Carter and Bronte who argued like cat and dog and made up like horny lovebugs. Adulthood had hit us right between the eyes and it scared me.
Throwing the comforter from me, I took a moment to think about what I should say to Carter. How did I apologize, yet make him realize not only was I excited but scared to death about the next phase in our life?
“Ugh,” I groaned and slapped my hands over my eyes. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Debatable.” Gasping, I lowered my hands to see Carter standing over me with a mug in his hand. “Green tea.”
Sleepy eyes watched me sit up before he then handed me the steaming drink. I tried to avoid his gaze and let my eyes drop to his torso. There was no doubt about it, he looked damn hot. His plaid pajama bottoms hung low and his chiseled chest was bare, but what I really loved, which I knew made me kind of weird, was the hint of his auburn underarm hair when he placed his hands on his hips. Damn it, I just loved him and thought he was so freaking sexy. Which in itself was weird after years of fighting and hating on him. All it had taken to change my mind had been one kiss and some dirty words. He’d told me that he was going to fuck me so good that anyone else that came after him would be a total disappointment.
Boy, had he been right—not that there’d been anyone else since that night. For a while I’d just been addicted to his cock, but quick fucks turned into staying for dinner afterward, which moved on to staying overnight that had then stretched into weekends. And so, within a small window of time, I knew I’d fallen in love with him.
“Can you remember the first time we said the ‘L’ word?” I asked, wrapping my hands tightly around my mug, feeling comfort in its warmth.
Carter’s smile was soft and gentle, with a hint of wickedness as his left eyebrow arched.
“I do and I also remember how I celebrated that fact.”
Rolling my eyes, I smiled. I remembered too. I hadn’t been able to get into that sort of position as a teenage gymnast, so how the hell I’d managed it ten years later I had no clue.
“We were watching a movie; Romeo & Juliet,” I reminded him. “And you really didn’t want to.”
He shrugged and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I thought it was going to be lame.”
“I know, but then I saw you crying.” My heart did a double bump as I recalled that being the exact moment that I knew. “The fact that the story brought you to tears made me realize that you were so much more than the annoying idiot I’d grown up with.”
“Then,” Carter said, taking hold of my hand, “you said, ‘I love you, baby’. And then you fucking jumped me.”
“I did not,” I gasped. “I smiled at you and you wiped away a tear and said, ‘I love you too’.”
