The sweet vanilla ice cream tastes heavenly as Carter and I sit at a picnic table just outside the ice cream shop's entrance. "This is really good." I take another bite.

"Yeah, I think ice cream always tastes better by the beach," Carter replies, reaching out to swipe his finger across the corner of my mouth, catching a drop of vanilla. My skin heats like a flame under his touch and I blush.

He watches me curiously for several seconds. My heart beats faster at the attention, and my skin warms, despite the cold ice cream. "What?"

"You sure you're single?" His voice wavers as he asks the question. The fact that he seems nervous is adorable, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

"Yes."

He smirks and shakes his head as he takes a big bite of his chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

"Are you?" I ask after the moment of silence stretches too long. Nerves skate up my arms at the thought. What if he has a girlfriend? Or a go-to girl? Or whatever the hell non-label that's trending this week?

"Yes." He snorts lightly.

"What?"

"Nothing." He angles his body toward me, shifting to straddle the picnic bench, his knee bouncing up and down. "I don't really do the girlfriend thing."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Not like my brothers. Jax has been sweet on Evie since they were in high school and Den," he says, shaking his head and chuckling at a memory, "Den does his own thing, but he's had a few serious relationships over the years."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, but I'd bet Den mucked it all up somehow," he says, chuckling again at whatever memory the mention of his brother's romantic life conjures.

The affection he shows when speaking about his family warms my heart and the yearning for a sibling, for someone, flares up inside me. I always wanted a sister. Or anyone, really.

"And your sister?" I ask.

"Daisy. She's the baby. No serious relationships that I know of but that’s not saying much as she’s been away at college the past four years. Just graduated from Arizona State University," he says this proudly, turning his head to peer at me. "She's the first in our family to graduate college, so it was a pretty big deal."

I grin back at him. "You all must be super proud."

"You have no idea."

"Did you guys throw a party?"

He shakes his head, his expression darkening. “No. But we should have. We surprised her though, showed up at her graduation.”

“I bet she loved that.”

He nods.

“Did your dad reach out to her?” I ask gently.

He jerks at the question and immediately, I wish I hadn’t asked it. I know he isn’t on great terms with his dad, but wouldn’t the guy be proud that his daughter graduated college?

I reach out hesitantly and place my palm over the back of his hand lying on the table between us. The heat of his skin warms my cold fingers, and after a beat, he flips his hand over, lacing our fingers together and squeezing lightly. It's the simplest gesture, yet it sets my heart galloping in my chest. The action, coupled with the conversation, is like he's opening up to me, letting me in, in a way that hints at more than just friendship.

"My dad's a scumbag," he says finally, answering the question between us that I daren't ask.

I squeeze his hand back.

"He's in jail for possession with intent to distribute. Cocaine. Plus, gun trafficking. He was an officer in the Devil's Shadow MC."

A gasp falls from my lips, and my cheeks blaze as embarrassment washes over me for my reaction.

Carter glances at me from the corner of his eye. "It's okay. It's a normal reaction. I'd be more concerned if you didn't say anything."

"Do you talk to him?"

His jaw ticks before I even finish the question, his mouth pulling taut, and his eyebrows dipping dangerously low over his eyes. He nods once, the movement crisp.

"That must be tough on you all. Keeping in touch with him when things could have been different."

He sighs, untangling his fingers from mine and rubbing at the center of his forehead. "I'm the only one who still speaks to him."

"Oh."

"And my brothers and Daisy don't know."

I swallow, absorbing that information. "Why?"

"Because it would destroy them."

"But you miss your dad?"

He laughs, the sound jarring in the peaceful quiet of sunset by the beach. "I hate my father."

"Then why do you keep in touch?"

"Because the things his MC would do would destroy them, too." He sighs heavily. "I’m in the process of cutting ties. No one knows we still speak." He looks at me again, and the severity of his expression alerts me that he's really confiding in me. He's trusting me with something that could hurt his family. He trusts me.

"I won't tell anyone."

He reaches over again, his hand resting on my thigh. His fingers apply the gentlest pressure. "I know, babe. But you won't ever understand either."

I open my mouth to refute that but then snap it shut. Would I ever understand? Probably not. I think of Daddy and Mom and our gigantic house, sitting at the long table for dinner each night and never having to worry about things like money or education or really, anything. I've never wanted for anything or needed anything I didn't receive. I have no clue what it's like to have to do things for survival or for family. The accident was the first real setback I’ve ever faced in my life and the fallout from it has rocked my world in ways I never imagined. Glancing at Carter’s profile, the tight pull of his brows, the way he chews the corner of his mouth when he’s thinking or pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s overwhelmed, I realize just how sheltered I’ve been.

He looks at me then and smiles, his whole face opening, his eyes brightening. I don’t want to keep living this closed-off, sheltered life. Not when I could be living more fully. Carter’s probably lived three lifetimes to my one.

"You're right, I probably won't understand. The closest thing for me would be having to go to charity events and galas with Barrington Wade because of his business relationship with my father. Because of the gambling. And that’s definitely not the same thing."

Carter looks up from his ice cream, his eyes boring into mine. "That’s been bothering me.”

“What has?”

“The picture. The one in the paper.” He squints out into the distance, as if recalling the newspaper photo. “Your body was so rigid, as if you were trying to turn away from him. As if you don’t like him, didn’t want him to kiss you. You don't want to go to those events and fancy parties with him, do you?"

"No. I hated it when he kissed me. Barrington’s awful. Makes me uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable how?" Carter’s grip tightens on my thigh, and I look at him, noting the blaze of anger in his eyes.

“Just nervous. I can’t figure him out and sometimes being with him puts me on edge.”

“Has he ever hurt you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I’m serious, Taylor.”

“So am I. He just unnerves me is all. But it doesn’t matter. I told Daddy last night that I’m never going to another event with him, so it’s done.”

Carter sighs next to me, his shoulders relaxing, as if in relief. “Good. If he ever hurts you, threatens you, anything, you can tell me, yeah?”

I squeeze his wrist gently, letting him know I appreciate his concern. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Carter's eyes soften and he reaches up, his hand leaving my thigh to cup the back of my neck. He brings me closer until our foreheads touch, our melting ice creams forgotten. His touch is tender, but his eyes are intense, smoldering with unsaid words, with shared understanding.

He rocks his forehead gently against mine, his eyes closing for a beat. I swallow, my stomach suddenly rising to my throat and dropping to my toes. Carter's hold on the back of my neck roots me to the moment, his warm breath washing over my mouth and luring me closer. His eyes open, and the sea-foam green is hypnotizing. My breathing intensifies; my heart practically convulses in my chest. It's beating so loud, I'm certain he can hear it, but he continues to watch me, letting the tension between us build.

My tongue darts out, hitting the center of my bottom lip, and I taste the vanilla ice cream. Carter groans as he grips the back of my neck, and then his lips are on mine. I feel a sweet pressure that quickly turns hungry. My ice cream melts down my wrist, and I drop the cone under the picnic table, unable to concentrate on anything except for the feel of Carter's mouth moving against mine.

He nips at my lower lip, and I part my lips, granting him access to my mouth. His tongue dips inside slowly, torturing me before twisting with mine. His fingers thread through my hair at the base of my neck and hold my head steady. He slants his mouth, shifting forward on the picnic bench and sliding me toward him until I'm tucked in between his thighs.

My hands cup his cheeks, the sharp stubble rubbing against my palms. I pull him closer, drawing him in. I feel the heat of his tongue, the graze of his stubble against my cheek, and the tug of his fingers in my hair.

And then, it happens.

I free fall.

Utterly and perfectly.

Until everything disappears. Except for him.