Chapter Twenty-One
“I have a date,” Avery told Karen when she burst into their apartment the next night. She glanced at the clock, cursing silently. She dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes and rushed past her stunned roommate to her room. “In ten minutes.” Damn delayed bus.
“Wait. What?”
Karen’s call chased her as she slid open her closet door. Guilt nipped at her for keeping the date a secret out of fear of jinxing it. She’d spent most of the last two days expecting him to cancel.
“What’s going on?” Karen asked from the open doorway.
Avery spared her a quick glance before refocusing on the line of color-coordinated clothing hanging on the rod. She rubbed Flip with her foot in an attempt to appease the cat as she wound her way around Avery’s legs. “I have no idea what to wear,” she mumbled to herself. A light sweater? Nice T-shirt? Skirt? Jeans? Slacks?
Karen came forward to stand beside her. “What kind of a date is it?”
“A first, but not first,” she tried to explain without details. “Dinner, but I don’t know where.” He’d given her no further information, not even when he’d texted her last night to ask how her day had gone.
A general text. A “how are you doing?” text. Something simple, almost mundane, yet she’d fallen asleep to the promise of it.
“Is it with the Saturday-night-rolled-into-all-day-Sunday guy?” Karen raised a speculative brow.
Avery ignored the question, but her grin grew despite her efforts to smother it. She pointedly shoved her hangers aside as she assessed and rejected each item. She couldn’t verbally acknowledge the positive answer to Karen’s question. Not if she wanted to contain that pesky thing fluttering in her chest and dancing beside those silly fantasies of love and a relationship and—Nope. Not yet. Maybe never with him. But maybe...
Karen plucked a hanger from the line of clothing and held up a red top with a deep V-neck and shiny silver buttons. “Wear this with your black skinny jeans and red heels.”
Avery bit her lip, undecided. “How about my black flare skirt?”
“Perfect.” She swung back to the closet. “Get moving,” she commanded. “You have five minutes.”
“Oh, God.” Avery stripped off her office clothes, uncaring for once where the dirty items landed. She grabbed a matching bra and panty set from her dresser and darted into the bathroom across the hallway.
“So, it’s that kind of date,” Karen said with a laugh.
Was it? She both hoped so and not. Hell, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Carson had her thoughts and emotions twisted into such a knot that she couldn’t define them.
She quickly undid her bun and brushed her hair out. Her makeup would have to suffice with a fresh coat of lipstick. She raced back to her room, heart speeding along in a flight of anxious anticipation. She didn’t want to be late. Didn’t want to think too much. Didn’t want to dream.
“Is this with the sex guy?” Karen asked, her smirk somewhere between amused and concerned.
A firm knock at their front door saved Avery from responding. She froze.
Karen’s eyes went wide before her smile turned devious. “I’ll get that,” she chirped as she left the room.
“Karen,” Avery called in warning, unsure of exactly what she was cautioning her about.
She yanked on the outfit Karen had laid on her bed. A quick look in the mirror confirmed everything was on correctly and free of cat hair. The sleeveless blouse draped over her breasts in an alluring way before it skimmed her form to end at her hips. The midthigh length of the skirt worked perfectly with the top to give it a fun yet dressy feel. Should she add a necklace?
The deep rumble of Carson’s laugh drifted down the hallway to spur Avery to move faster. The longer Karen was alone with him, the more intel she’d gather, and that could be dangerous for the coming interrogation. How long could she avoid Karen’s questions?
She slipped her heels on, paused, her hand resting on her hip. Could she do it? What would it feel like?
“Have you known Avery long?”
Avery squeezed her eyes closed at hearing Karen’s question. She needed to move.
“A while,” Carson answered, the deliberate vagueness both a relief and a disappointment.
She shook her head in an attempt to remove the warring emotions. This was just another moment. A chance to own the new confidence Carson had given her.
With a firm nod, she slipped off the scarlet panties she’d just put on. Air swooped over her pussy in silent condemnation. She’d never gone out in public without her underwear or some form of lingerie covering her.
A secret smile lit her face when she turned back to the mirror. She wiggled her hips. Her skirt swished against her thighs, her pussy noticeably exposed beneath the fabric. She soaked up the naked sensation, a secret smile forming. More than anything, it was the knowledge that she was completely bare beneath her skirt that teased her.
And nobody would know.
A spark of that wanton, sexy woman who’d emerged with Carson flared to life. She’d hold on to her secret—or maybe share it early. Taunt him. See his eyes flare with desire.
Her shoulders were back, confidence spreading as she strode down the short hall to greet Carson. His presence seemed to overtake their small space with the calm control he exerted. His dark suit fit him perfectly—like all of his suits did—accentuating his shoulders and tapering to his waist. The only change from his office appearance was the lack of a tie. Was that significant?
“Hi. Sorry I’m late.” Her voice was steady, and she praised herself on her casual facade. “The buses were slow.”
Carson made a long, slow glance down her and back up. Appreciation blazed when he smiled. “Not a problem.” He leaned down to brush a kiss on her cheek. His hand settled on her lower back in a light hold that managed to feel possessive. It ignited her longing as did his whispered praise. “You look beautiful. Like always.”
“Thank you.” Her heart did that silly flip and plunged without her consent. This was just a date. One date—after more than a month of wild, passionate sex. She cleared her throat and turned to her roommate, her hand falling from his chest. When had she placed it there? “You’ve met Karen?” she asked him even though he obviously had.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
Karen’s smile said Avery would most certainly be grilled the next time she saw her. “Have a good night.” Her words were polite and neutral, but Avery caught the unspoken implication. Have some really hot sex.
If only she knew, and what would she think of Avery then?
Carson helped her with her black cropped jacket and held out his arm for her to take as they left her condo. Her nerves swelled, but she forced them aside. This was nothing. It was just Carson. A simple date.
She was making too much of it.
The night air was comfortable, yet she was acutely aware of it caressing over her thighs and beneath her skirt. Her secret did a naughty dance that nudged aside her conservatism. This was fun, even though it barely registered on the daring scale.
The leather seat was cool on the underside of her thighs, and sent another reminder of her naked state. She crossed her legs, a knowing smile on her lips. Would she tell him? Show him? When? Where?
“Do you like seafood?” he asked once he’d started the car.
She looked to him, her nugget of power held tightly. “Yes.”
Dusk was settling in, bringing the gentle softness that came before dark. It washed the harshness from Carson’s features and highlighted the gentler side of him. The little quirk of his lips. That bump on his nose that she’d assimilated into his features but kept him from being too perfect. The deep blue of his eyes that exposed a hint of his own nervousness.
Her shoulders relaxed as the knot in her chest loosened. He felt it too—whatever it was that was growing between them. And that...was too big for words.
She held her purse on her lap and embraced her wants for one brief moment. This could be something. It had the potential to be, if she allowed herself to go with it. Whatever it was. Her stomach dipped, heart too. A wave of warmth flowed through her, fueled by the opportunities she’d set free.
Every moment was a chance at something new, and she’d been scooping them up her entire life. Why was she so afraid of this one?
Because it had the potential to hurt her the worst. Or give her the most joy.
“How was your day?” Carson asked once they were on the road.
“Good. Busy.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yours?”
His laugh was a short huff. “The same.”
“Gregory’s excited about a potential client the firm is courting.” Her smile grew from the inside. The mundane day talk was just filler chatter, yet it was another side of normal they’d missed before.
Carson nodded. “Trevor has a way of getting whatever he goes after.”
Her short chuckle was one of agreement. “I don’t know him that well, but he doesn’t come across as a guy who accepts no as a final answer.”
His evasive shrug provided little insight into their boss. “Have you ever been to Carmichael’s?”
Her respect for him increased when he changed the topic instead of gossiping about Trevor. “No. But I’ve heard it’s really good.”
“My mother introduced me to it,” he said. The corner of his mouth lifted. “She’s somewhat of a foodie now.”
She shifted to face him better, intrigued. “Now? She wasn’t before?”
“No.” His smile grew before it fell away, the memories obviously filtering by. “Money was too tight, and we were all too busy to be picky about what we ate.” He glanced at her, shrugged. “She had three boys in four years. We ate a lot.”
She laughed, nodding. “I can imagine. My mother complained constantly about my brother’s endless stomach when he hit his teens.”
“Pure survival instincts prompted me to learn how to cook,” he added, his smile waning again.
“It’s a good skill to have.” One her brother never learned since their mother had deemed kitchen duties women’s work.
They fell into silence as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. The fog was creeping in on a wall of dank clouds that seemed to coast over the water. The fog would reach the bridge soon, but how far would it invade tonight? There was no way to tell, and she both loved and hated the mystery.
He took the Sausalito exit into the little nook situated across the bay from San Francisco. The town held that quaint, artsy tourist feel that leaned toward elite without being obnoxious. The window displays varied from sculptures and pricey decorations to baked goods and toys.
Carson stopped at a valet stand before a restaurant built on a dock over the water. The scent of fish and algae floated in the air beside the tantalizing food smells when she exited the car. She inhaled again and appreciated the simple beauty of their surroundings. People strolled on the sidewalks, and bikers utilized the road with the slow-moving cars. Everyone was out enjoying the last of the daylight.
A wind blew off the bay, and she scanned the stunning view of San Francisco in the distance—a mass of staggered monochrome buildings against a pale sky filled with fluffy clouds tinted pink and orange from the setting sun.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Carson asked as he came to her side, gaze on the view.
“It is,” she agreed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to believe I live there.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know.” She searched for a tangible reason but only had vague outlines. “Maybe because in some ways I’m still that small-town girl from the Midwest. And that—” she gestured back at the skyline “—is about as far from it as you can get.”
“And city kids are that different?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.
“No. Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She laughed at herself and her own ramblings. “Haven’t you ever felt like an outsider only to realize that at some point you’d become a part of the very thing you’d once thought you were separated from?”
“Yeah.” He studied her, completely serious. “I get that.”
He took her hand and led her to the door before she could dig beneath his meaning. His palm warmed hers and brought with it a sense of belonging.
And yeah, she liked it.
The gust of wind lifted her skirt as he opened the door, and she quickly pressed the material down as she ducked inside. A slow wave of heat worked its way up her chest at her almost exposure.
Apparently, she hadn’t thought her daring through with her skirt choice.
Had it lifted high enough to show her nakedness? A quick glance around didn’t reveal any sniggers or speculative looks. She was good, but a part of her almost wanted someone to know.
And how strange was that?
They were seated at a table overlooking the bay. Candlelight flickered on the white linen tablecloth. Their food was ordered, wine poured before she sat back to study him. He returned her appraisal, smile growing.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She tilted her head, the wine easing through her to loosen her muscles and words. “Just about you. Your life.”
“Yeah?” His brow rose. “What do you want to know?”
Everything? And that was overbroad, even if it was true. She went instead with the most pressing question, one that linked to others and would unlock a part of Carson she loved yet didn’t fully understand. “How did you get involved with the Boardroom?”