CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

James

I’m too anxious to wait in the house for her, so I stand by the door waiting, excited to have her alone. Excited to cook for her, provide her a night that allows her to relax. To offer her a glimpse of what I can and will give her.

A few days ago Barrett, Grady, and I went to my old house and moved out more of the furniture. Not all of it, since the realtor wants me keep some stuff there. But at least now I have bedroom furniture and a few things I was tired of living without.

“No,” I say when I step closer.

She already got out of the car and is now standing next to it. She cocks her head to the side. “Sorry?”

“No way. Nope. Tell me this isn’t your car, Carly.”

She looks from me to the car and back to me again. Every time I’ve seen her, it’s either been at the gym, where Jack drove them in his old pickup he was so proud of or I was picking her up, and her car was in the garage.

My mind is kind of blown that I’ve never seen it before now. She’s lucky I haven’t. Knowing she drove that piece of tin through the winter quite frankly pisses me off.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you steal it from Pebbles and Bam Bam?”

She throws her head back and laughs hard.

“Oh geesh. You’re such a dork. It’s not that bad!”

“It looks like it came from a Cracker Jack box!”

“Ha! Shut it! It does not!”

“Tell me, baby, what do you do in the snow? Do you feed the mice extra so they spin the wheels extra hard?”

“Hey!” She slaps her hand playfully against my shoulder, but before she can take a step back, I grab hold of her wrist and tug her closer to me.

“Hey now, no need for violence,” I tease her. I’m so glad we’re at this place now where we can be playful and teasing with each other, and it doesn’t immediately take her back to that place. To him.

“Oh, whatever. You’re like rock-hard,” she tells me then immediately blushes and rolls her lips together, something I notice she does whenever she’s embarrassed or nervous.

“Damn straight.”

She giggles and raises up on her toes to kiss me lightly. She’s trying to distract me from the conversation about her car. I know this. That doesn’t mean I won’t let her get by with it for a few minutes. I’m not crazy. A few minutes of her mouth fused to mine? I’ll take that any day of the week, whether she’s using it to sidetrack me or not. It’s the best kind of distraction.

I wrap my arms low around her back and tug her closer yet. She sighs into my mouth then opens up for me, tilting her head back to accommodate the height difference. She wraps her arms around my neck, her left hand immediately going to the short hairs at the nape of my neck. Her nails lightly trace patterns while our tongues fight for dominance.

I turn us around so she’s leaning against her Tinker Toy of a car, pressing her harder against it with my body. I have my right hand holding me up, pushing against the tiny frame, and my left hand against the small of her back, making her arch boldly into me. I can’t deny that her distraction method is working incredibly well. But I won’t be deterred. I slow the kiss down and pull my head back just slightly so we are still just a breath away. Her eyes are glazed over, and her chest is heaving.

“Wha…?”

“Baby, nice try. I’m all for your diversion technique. In fact, I plan to get back to it real soon. But you gotta know I’m not letting this go.”

“What is so wrong with my car?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I’ve had it for two years, James. Two!” She holds up two fingers in front of my face as if I’m not sure how many that is. “It’s been fine!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I lean in as close as possible to her, both hands bracing me against the car, caging her in as I graze her cheek with mine and kiss her neck lightly.

She whimpers, and it sends a direct signal south.

“You wanna know the difference between then… and now?”

“Hmm…” she mumbles, caught up in my tangle.

“You weren’t mine then,” I tell her, my voice strong and firm.

“I’m yours?” she whispers.

I cock my head sideways and narrow my eyes at her.

“Did you question that to be true?” I ask. “Have I not made myself clear?”

“Umm,” she starts, but I cut her off by running my nose down the side of her neck, pausing at that special little nook to inhale her honey-sweet scent.

“Just so there’s no confusion, Carly. Just in case you didn’t know… I’m absolutely crazy about you. You’re mine. Mind. Body. Soul. And especially your heart. Just like my heart’s yours. And I’m gonna go ahead and repeat this because it deserves to be repeated. You’re mine. Do you understand, sweetheart? This isn’t up for debate. This isn’t something that will change. This is it. You with me?”

“Yeah, I’m with you,” she says breathlessly.

“I meant what I said. This is it for me. You’re it for me. One day soon I’ll ask for real, but you need to know… us? It’s real, and it’s forever.”

Her eyes widen at my promises before she grabs my shirt and jerks me forward, sealing our mouths together with such force I’m afraid I hurt her. Her answering moans tell me otherwise. I skim my hands down her body, loving the feel of her silky skin under my calloused palms. Her body is the perfect combination of strength and softness. Hours spent in the gym boxing and in the yoga studio have molded her frame into the perfect combination of soft curves and a powerful body that has helped her overcome so much.

We’re standing in the private parking area behind Balance, but it’s still in a public area, so to be as turned on as I am at this moment is probably not appropriate, but I don’t really give a damn. The feel of her body under me, something I’ve been aching to feel since the moment I met her, has every nerve firing.

I reluctantly pull away, but only slightly. I’m not willing to part with the feel of her just yet.

“Baby, as amazing as this is, I’m not willing to give anyone a show here. And I’m a little worried we’re gonna tip over the Tinker Toy if I press you against it any harder,” I say with a grin.

She busts out laughing, a sound I’ll never tire of. Her eyes are shining brightly, a combination of happiness and lust, I’m learning.

“You really are such a dork,” she says, still laughing.

“I own it though.”

“You really do.”

“Carly, as much as I appreciate your love for the environment and buying a car that runs by the power of your feet…” She snorts, which causes me to grin again. “…you know it’s not safe. Not to mention it’s crap in the snow. If you got in an accident, you’d be crushed. My heart can’t take it.”

“That’s what we have Jack’s pickup for.”

I raise my eyebrows at her ridiculous reasoning.

She rolls her eyes in return. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

“Nope.”

“James, my car is fine.”

“You might be surprised to learn I disagree.”

“Shocker.”

“It’s nice to know I still keep you on your toes.”

She looks to the sky.

“Even He’s not gonna get you out of this one, beautiful.”

“Well, what do you suggest? You want me to drive a tank?”

I grin at her because, if that’s what it will take to keep her safe, I’m okay with it.

Her jaw drops. “You can’t be serious!”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know… seems like that would be the best vehicle to keep you safe.”

“Right. Because that wouldn’t look ridiculous. I don’t know if it’s lost on you, but I’m not as big as you,” she says.

I waggle my eyebrows at her and reach over, pulling her to me by her waist. “Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed.”

She keeps talking, ignoring me completely. “I can’t handle a big vehicle. And as much as it pains me to admit, I’m not entirely a great driver.” She stretches her mouth out in an eeek face, causing me to laugh.

“All the more reason for us to go car shopping tomorrow.”

“Us?”

“What did I tell you? You’re with me, yeah?”

“What time tomorrow?”

“Good girl.”

She shivers, and I have a feeling it’s not from the temperature outside, but I don’t say anything.

“Let’s get you inside. I promised my girl a special meal, and I plan to wow her.”

“Oh! Lucky girl.”

“Nah, that would be me. I’m the one who’s lucky.”

She sighs contentedly, which has my heart pounding with promise. I can only pray I am always able to give her that. Comfort. Security. Love.

As soon as we walk into my apartment, Carly doesn’t hesitate in removing her jacket and hanging it on the hook by the wall. She sets her large handbag on the floor below it, removes her shoes, and makes her way inside. I love that she feels comfortable enough in my space to make herself at home, without me having to prompt her to do so. Many times I’ve been to her house, and I’ve always felt at home. I’m beginning to think it’s just her that makes me comfortable, rather than the location. Because wherever she is, that’s where I feel most at ease. And when the four of us are together, when our families blend, it doesn’t feel forced. It feels natural, relaxed, right.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“It’s almost ready. Wine? Margarita, perhaps?” I tease.

“Ha, ha, jokester. Just iced tea, if you have it.”

“Of course,” I say and grab the pitcher of tea from the fridge before pouring her some into a mason jar and handing it over.

“You’re so Southern at heart.” She giggles.

“It’s endearing, right?”

“Oh yeah, babe. Totally.” She smiles and takes a sip. “It smells delicious in here. What are we having?”

“Well, we’ve cooked together plenty, but it always seems like I’m trying recipes out on you for the restaurant. So tonight, no taste testing. I made your favorite.”

“You mean to say you’re not having my favorite on your menu?” she fake-pouts.

I laugh. “Actually, no.”

She gasps, but I continue.

“Want to know why?” She nods her head, so I go on. “Because this meal isn’t to be shared with the masses. This is your favorite, so you’re the only one I will be making it for.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She grins, happy with my reasoning.

“You ready to be wowed by my beef and broccoli?”

“Oh yeah.”

I place the platters on the table I already set, complete with a lit candle in the center because I’m rocking the cheese factor.

“You wanna tell me what ingredients you used?” she asks.

I scrub a hand down my face, trying not to smile, but failing. “You’re such a brat.”

“You so want to tell me, don’t you?”

“No,” I lie as I place a generous helping of Asian noodles on her plate and spoon beef and broccoli over top then serve myself.

“Come on, tell… me-e-e,” she teases.

I shake my head and watch as she mixes everything together and takes a bite. Her eyes close, and I almost groan as I watch her eat the food I made just for her.

“Good?”

She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my word, James. This is the best I’ve ever had. Ever.”

I smile at her words, more than pleased that she likes my cooking.

“What’s in it?” she asks coyly.

I roll my eyes but tell her anyway. Because I love this game.

“Well, first I cut the flank steak into strips.”

“Mm-hmm?” She rests her elbow on the table and leans toward me. “How… thick?”

“Nice and thick,” I say in a low voice and wink at her. “Next, I heated up the oil.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Oh… oil, huh? Then did you sear the meat?”

“Oh, talk dirty to me, baby,” I growl.

She giggles as I stand up and bend toward her and kiss her on the lips. As much as I would love to continue, I want her to eat. I’ve been looking forward to having her in my space for me to cook for her for a long time now.

“Eat.” I smile and point to her food.

“It really is delicious. Thank you for making my favorite.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

We finish our meal, talking and laughing, enjoying our evening of quiet and alone. I stand up to clear the table, and even though I tell her I can do it on my own, she joins me, washing the pans and loading the dishwasher side by side.

“Dessert?” I ask her, holding up the chocolate cheesecake I had in the refrigerator.

“Look at you, pulling out all the stops.” She winks.

“I try.” I grin.

“Dessert later?”

“That works for me.” I shrug my shoulders then reach out for her hand.

“Want a tour? Since I was rude and didn’t give you one earlier?”

“I’d love that.”

“You sure you’re up for it? It’s a pretty big space. Don’t want you to get a cramp after eating.”

She rolls her eyes at me, adorable.

“I think I’ll take my chances.”

I guide her into the living room, which is about ten steps off the kitchen/dining room. “Allow me to welcome you to the living area. As you can see, I chose to decorate with warm earth tones,” I begin but am cut off by her laughter. I walk her down the short hallway and point into the spare room, “Lily’s room. She chose a pallete in shades of green.”

She snorts, but I am not deterred.

I point into the bathroom. “The bathroom. The tub is seriously impressive,” I joke as I point to the tub that looks like it would only fit a toddler.

“And finally, the room you’ve been dying to see… my boudoir.”

A giggle bubbles out of her before she rolls her eyes at me and steps over the threshold into my room. It’s pretty basic. My furniture is made of a dark stain, my colors navy blue and white. She walks around slowly, much like I did when I first entered her bedroom, looking at the pictures I have on my dresser. They’re mostly of Lily and my family, but the one in the center is a picture I took of her when she didn’t know. She was cheering for Jack at the state football game, a smile on her face so bright that I couldn’t help myself.

I watch the rise and fall of her chest as she rolls her lips together.

There’s also a picture that Tess took of Carly, Lily, Jack, and me at the wedding. And one of Jack cooking at Balance that I don’t think she’s ever seen. On my nightstand, I have one single frame and a lamp. The picture is the selfie that I took of the two of us before we walked into Emily’s wedding. She smiles as she picks up the frame and traces the picture with her finger.

“That was a good day,” she murmurs.

“It was.” I nod.

“I mean, even with bitch-face coming.” She wrinkles her nose.

I chortle. “This is true. But it turned out alright.”

“It did. I still can’t…”

“No talk of her, okay? This is our night, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” I say, reaching out my hand to her.

We walk back into the kitchen and refill our drinks. I needed to get her out of my bedroom. I don’t want her to think that I only invited her over here for the sole purpose of getting her into my bed. But I had a lot of thoughts leaning the other direction going through my head as we stood there, her scent overwhelming in the small space.

We walk into the living room, and she looks around. I stand back, leaning my shoulder against the wall, letting her explore my space. As soon as she sees my vintage record player in the corner, she smiles at me. Her delicate fingers run over the aged instrument, admiring it as well as the old records I have sitting on the shelf below. Some of my records I’ve had since I was young enough to appreciate music. Some I’ve accumulated over time — at old record stores, garage sales. Everything from the Doors and Bruce Springsteen to the Beatles and Eric Clapton sits on my shelf. There’s something about listening to the crackle and pop behind the lyrics and music.

“Does this work?” she asks, turning slightly toward me.

I nod my head and unfold my arms, then push off the wall and walk over. I pull out Eric Clapton’s Slowhand album and adjust the needle to play “Wonderful Tonight.” I take her glass from her, set it on the coffee table, and extend my hand. When she places her small palm in mine, I tug her closer.

We sway side to side, her hand at my chest, my arm around her waist, much like we did at Emily’s wedding. And just like I did then, I stare at her in awe, grateful that she’s allowed me to be the person she opened up to. My eyes take her in. She looked absolutely stunning at the wedding. But here, in my apartment, when she’s in a casual tan chunky sweater and black leggings, she’s at her most beautiful. Because she’s Carly.

No words are spoken while we dance together. No words need to be spoken. The song says it all. The soft crackle combined with the smooth sound of the Eric Clapton’s voice.

When the song comes to an end, I reach over and lift the needle, stopping the sound of music coming from the speakers. I stand back up, and Carly is watching me with a softness in her eyes that hits me straight in the gut.

I clear my throat. “Cheesecake?”

She shakes her head.

“No?”

“I had a different dessert in mind,” she tells me, her voice soft, a little unsure, or is it just shy?

“Yeah?”

She nods her head this time, reaching up to my face and pulling me down closer to her. “I mean, if you want…”

“Want?” I ask her, my eyebrow raised. I reach for her waist, gripping tightly, and pull her in closer to me. She has to feel whether I want this or not. Her eyes flare, the deep brown glistening as her breathing picks up.

“James,” she says, breathless.

“Yeah?”

“Show me your boudoir again.” She smiles, though her voice is still breathless.

“My pleasure,” I tell her moments before I pick her up under her butt, and her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her into my bedroom.