Finding Carson Lee (Oh Captain, My Captain 3)

I nod, smiling up at him.

“Do you need help with anything?” he changes the subject.

“Grab some plates. This is all done.”

I push Elliott out of my mind and put the food into bowls, setting them on the kitchen table. I grab the sweet tea and fill the glasses.

“This a nice spread, sweetheart.” Carson smiles and piles his plate.

We both eat and talk about the campaign mostly and the season coming up. Carson feels like this is their year. I don’t tell him about what my boss said today because I still need to figure that out on my own.

When we finish dinner, Carson helps me clean up. But then his phone rings, so he heads into the other room and I put everything away. As I wipe down the counter and stove, I immediately stop and back away. My heart races a little bit. The thought hits me before I even really comprehended it.

I’m standing in an eight million dollar house with hockey’s bad-boy, cooking dinner and having a good time.

Can I do this all the time?

I grab the counter. What the hell am I thinking?

I’ve done it. I?

?ve finally lost my mind. I figured the stress would make me go crazy and it’s happened. Soon I’ll be doodling Carson’s name all over the place.

Yep, I’m a crazy person.

Carson comes back into the room, and he stares at me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he rubs his hand up and down my arms.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m finishing up here.” I step away and toss the towel in the sink.

“You didn’t have to do that. You could have left it.”

“I think I’m going crazy.” I rub the temples of my head.

“What do you mean?” Carson wraps his arms around my waist. “You think you’re going crazy because you cleaned up?”

“No, not that.” My thoughts are like a tornado in my head. I can’t take the pressure. “We haven’t even been on a date, and here I am cooking dinner, cleaning up, asking how your day’s been. The next thing I know, I’ll be in an apron with a beehive hairdo, serving you a martini when you walk through the door after work,” I blurt out to him all at once.

“Okay. First, I don’t drink martinis. Second, you cooked because of a bet. I hope you know that, believe it or not, I don’t want a ‘housewife’. And just because you did it once, doesn’t mean you’ll turn into one. Although, you with a beehive hairdo might be entertaining.”

“Carson Lee,” I sigh deeply “I’m sorry, I think seeing Elliott just freaked me out.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think he was coming until tomorrow.” He lays his forehead on mine.

“It’s okay. I’ve had a long day, and I think I need some dessert.” I smile at my comment.

Carson raises his head and gives me the smirk that turns me on the most. “Well, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right man.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Carson

As I lead Kinley to my room, she glances over at me with slow grin. “I think it’s time I show you one of my secrets,” she slyly tells me.

“I’m more than ready.”

She giggles as we step into my room, but it falls short. “Woah,” she breathes, openly looking around. I follow her gaze to see if I can tell what’s mesmerized her. All I see is my California King poster bed with the matching dark mahogany nightstands, dresser, and the other room pieces. The room overall is kind of somber from the wood furnishing and dark red paint. My pillows and comforter are so fluffy that we’re going to sink into them when we lay down. Kinley’s about to let go of my hand to explore, but I pull her so she turns and stands in front of me.