And I’m a fucking liar.
One who won’t be satisfied until she’s wrapped around me again. Until she admits she feels the same way.
“Thank you.” Her fingers pluck at her lip, and my God, how the sight makes my dick ache. “It’s just. Well, Saturday complicates things for me.”
At least she acknowledges it wasn’t all one-sided.
Fuck, she was a treat for the eyes. For the soul, even. I drag my gaze the length of her frame; toned legs, a waist built for my hands, breasts that are a perfect handful. My gaze travels up the elegant column of her neck, farther to lips that might beg for a kiss if they weren’t pursed with disapproval.
And even that does it for me.
“If you’re quite finished ogling.”
“Ogle?” A grin cracks my face; there really was no restraining it.
And finished, not even close.
“Give me my phone.” She holds out her hand along with the command as though fully expecting me to pass it over. “Please.”
“What’s it worth to you?”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”
“Then I’m not going to grace you with your phone.” Grabbing both handsets, I stand from the stool and slip one into each of the front pockets of my pants. It’s kind of crowded down there. “If you want it, you’ll have to come and get it.” I pat them for good measure. And just to see her eyes drop.
“Fine.” She swings on her heel. “I’ll just use the landline.”
“Sure. Call a friend. Call a hotel. Call fucking Rose! Tell her how you can’t trust yourself to be in the same room as me.” Her footsteps falter, and I think she’s going to carry on, that she’s going to walk out of the room when instead, she whips around to face me.
“You see, this is why I can’t be in the same room. I don’t know which version of Carson I’m going to get!”
“Then let me tell you.” I’m off the stool in an instant, stalking across the room to where she stands on the threshold. Her gaze widens as her fight or flight instincts kick in. “There is only one version,” I say, taking her chin in my hand. “And that’s the one who wants you in his arms again. The one who’s been guarding his heart for far too long, the same as you. The one who wants you to take a chance on him.”
“You’re too big a risk,” she whispers, tears teetering on her lids. She jerks away, leaving my hand suspended in the air. “And you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” I fold my arms across my chest, unable to hold back my sneer. “Five years and you’ve never dated once. Never fucked someone else.”
“Did they teach you to be a tactless dick at your fancy prep school?”
“No, they taught me to tell the truth.”
“I can tell the truth, too. You’re right. Five years is far too long. Felicitations to you,” she almost spits, her gaze roaming over me contemptuously. “So you cracked the seal for me last Saturday. But guess what? I have a date soon. And it looks like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
I take a step towards her when she whirls around, almost spinning out into the hallway. “You know where the door is. I’ll let you see yourself out.”
27
Carson
“Eat me!”
“What was that, honey?” I pause at the doorway to the den, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, my scotch in the other, but Lulu doesn’t answer. She’s too engrossed in the huge TV screen she’s standing in front of, just a pyjamaed silhouette with wild, dark hair.
“Hey, Lu, are you sure your mommy is okay with you watching this?” It’s animated, true, but so is a lot of other stuff not intended for kids' impressionable sensibilities. As I take my seat in the middle of the sectional, she doesn’t immediately answer, engrossed in the exchange playing out in front, her tiny hands balled into fists.
“Do you know the muffin man?” she parrots, reciting the lines of the scene without an ounce of attention for me. So I guess it’s a safe bet that she’s seen this once or ten times before. It must have received the parental seal of approval. “The muffin man who lives on Drury—” Lulu sniffs and turns. “Ooh, popcorn!” she announces, drawn by the buttery aroma.
As she makes a dive for the cushion next to me, she wiggles her shoulder under my arm to reach the bowl. As she smashes a tiny handful to her mouth, my elbow hovers awkwardly in the air for a moment before I slide it across the back of the sectional.
I wonder if the schoolteacher is right this minute walking down the street with his arm around her. Knock that shit off, I tell myself. The attitude of a caveman isn’t going to help when she finds you here.