Joss
I started to see a new side of Carson after that night. I wasn’t sure if it was because things with us were stronger now or because he was going to counseling. But whatever the reason, my brooding, quiet man started talking more.
In the first couple of weeks after we made up, I found out that Carson wanted to get a dog. He hadn’t mentioned it before because we spent so much time at my place and him getting a dog would mean we needed to be at his place most of the time. He wanted a German shepherd, like the one who had been part of his military unit.
He also told me he didn’t love the smell of the brick cheese I liked to eat with crackers and sliced red onion, and that brushing my teeth afterward still wasn’t quite enough to freshen my breath. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or amused by his admission.
I didn’t order any more of that cheese, though. Overall, Carson thought I was a goddess. If there was one small thing he didn’t like, I was very willing to find a new snack.
Before, Carson would have shoved down his thoughts and opinions. Now, he was sharing them with me. He’d let slip that he hadn’t been drunk in more than a year because he liked rough sex when he was drunk, and he was remorseful over making women sore the next day.
If I was supposed to be turned off by that, I wasn’t. Tonight, I was topping off his wine glass as often as possible, hoping to see his hungriest side in bed.
“You tryin’ to get me drunk, Miss Drake?” He cocked a brow at me as I filled his glass.
I shrugged casually. “What if I am?”
“Well, since we’re both off till Monday, have at it. But why the sudden interest? Is it because I told you I like to fuck hard when I’m drunk?”
My stomach fluttered as he spoke. Apparently, I didn’t have normal butterflies—I had sex butterflies that flapped their wings when I was turned on.
“I mean . . . I kind of remember you mentioning it.” My cheeks warmed as I avoided his gaze.
Carson picked up his glass and took several swallows of his wine. “I’m more than happy to oblige, but you don’t have to get me wasted to get whatever you want from me, Joss. Just say the word.”
“Okay.”
“You like it rough?”
I turned away from him, trying to hide my red face as I returned the wine bottle to the kitchen.
“Jocelyn.” His deep, commanding tone made me stop walking. The sex butterflies were back.
“Hmm?” I turned to face him.
“Leave the wine in here. You know we’re gonna drink the whole bottle.”
I nodded and set it down on the coffee table. As soon as I did, Carson took my waist in his hands and pulled me onto his lap. I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes, taking in the faint, clean scent of his soap.
“I love you,” he said, his whisper against my lips making me tingle with desire. “I’d do anything for you. Don’t ever feel embarrassed with me.”
I pressed my lips against his and kissed him softly. He gripped my bottom and squeezed hard enough that I moaned and kissed him a little deeper.
“There’s my answer,” he said, his tone amused. “You don’t want me to play nice tonight, do you?”
I bit down on his lower lip in response, and he groaned. He ran a hand beneath the back of my shirt to my neck, holding it as he kissed me long and hard.
And speaking of hard, Carson was clearly as ready to get this party started as I was.
Just then, his phone started buzzing and scooting around on the coffee table. I stopped kissing him, and he groaned his disapproval.
“Fuck whoever that is,” he said.
The doctor in me didn’t like avoiding phone calls. I pulled back, resting my hands on his shoulders. “At least see who it is. It could be a friend stranded on the side of the road who needs help.”
He sighed heavily, muttered, “cockblocker,” and reached around me to grab his phone from the coffee table.
“Don’t recognize the number,” he said as he looked at the screen.
“Is it a 1-800 number?”
He glanced at his phone. “No.”
“I’d answer it, then. It could be someone you served with, couldn’t it?”
Both agreement and disappointment were in his dark eyes as he slid his finger across the screen, wrapping his free arm around my waist to keep me close.
“Hello?” he practically growled into the phone.
I rested my head on his shoulder, and I could hear a male voice on the other end of the line.
“How are you, son?”
Carson tensed. I got goosebumps as silence hung. That had to be his father on the other end of the line, and I’d only heard bad things about him.
“What do you want?” Carson said in a clipped tone.
“Is that any way to greet your father?”
“You don’t know shit about being a father.”
“Maybe if you’d been a better—”
Carson pushed on the screen to end the call, then tossed his phone onto an adjacent couch cushion and leaned his head back. He exhaled deeply, wrapping his other arm around my back and holding me close.
“I’m sorry,” I said against his neck.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I told you to take the call.”
He scoffed. “You didn’t know it was him, babe.”
A few seconds of silence passed before I asked, “How long has it been since you talked to him?”
“A while. A year, maybe?”
“Why do you think he called all of a sudden?”
Carson’s laugh was humorless. “There’s only one reason that douchebag ever calls me. He wants money.”
There was anger in his tone and an edge of bitterness. But what I also heard in his voice broke my heart—hurt. Of course it hurt Carson that his father only called him when he wanted money.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, pressing myself closer against him.
“It’s nothing new,” he said dismissively.
“It’s still not okay.”
“That motherfucker called me when I was in . . . when I was overseas. Claimed there was a family emergency. A satellite comms guy risked his ass to come find me in the field so he could connect me to him. We were holed up in this crumbling building, taking fire while we held off insurgents, and I had to stop firing to take the call. And that bastard just wanted to know if I’d left an ATM card back home that he could use to get some cash.”
I hated Carson’s father. If we ever met, and I hoped we wouldn’t, nothing would change my feelings for him.
“One of my buddies got shot a few minutes after I got off the phone.” Carson’s voice held remorse. “I’ve never stopped asking myself what might have happened if my worthless father hadn’t called that day. If I hadn’t stopped shooting to take that call. Maybe I would have taken out the guy who ended up shooting my buddy.”
I lifted my head from his chest and met his warm brown eyes. “You can’t put any blame on yourself for that. Anyone would have taken that call.”
“Yeah, but other people don’t have deadbeat dads chasing them down for a few bucks.”
“Some do,” I argued softly. “But you aren’t him, Carson. You’re nothing like him.”
He tightened his grip on me. “I hope not. I’ve tried to be nothing like him.”
“Your friend who was shot—did he make it?”
Carson’s exhale was warm against my temple. “Yeah, but his shoulder was destroyed. He lost the use of an arm.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m haunted by all of ’em, you know? Not just the ones who died from their injuries. The ones I saw bleeding and screaming and begging us to pass messages on to their wives and kids if they died.”
I rubbed my thumb over his wrist as he spoke, silently encouraging him to continue. He’d never shared anything with me about his time overseas, and though it broke my heart to hear his mournful words, I liked that he was opening up to me about it.
“My dad never knew what it meant to put others first,” Carson said. “He didn’t take care of my mom when she was sick, and he never did much for me after she died.”
“That must’ve been really hard.”
“Yeah. I joined the army as a loner, but I found a family there. It was worth every nightmare I have now. Those guys—and a few women, too—would have died for me. Some did.”
“Everyone deserves to have that feeling,” I said. “Unconditional love.”
“You’re my family now, too, Joss. Whether we’re married or not, I’d walk through fire for you.”
My heart warmed with love for him. “You mean everything to me, Carson. Even if you never want kids, I choose you.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Maybe I’ll warm up to it down the road, babe. I just don’t know right now. I never want to make a kid feel the way my dad made me feel.”
“I get that. But I know you, and you’d never do that. We don’t have to make any big decisions right now. Let’s just be happy.”
He nodded his agreement as he tightened his arms around me again. It was like he thought I might slip away if he didn’t hold on with everything he had. I wouldn’t, though. Carson had been let down by people he loved, and it would take time for him to know I wasn’t like them.
“Do you care if we just go to bed?” he asked, his voice nearly a whisper.
The encounter with his dad had drained him emotionally. I knew that feeling, of just wanting to get a hard day over with.
“That sounds good to me,” I said, looking up at him from my spot in his lap with a smile. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”
Carson ran his hand up my spine, to my neck, and into my hair, grabbing onto it gently. Then he kissed me tenderly, his lips slowly and softly brushing across mine.
“I love you,” he murmured, his breath warm.
“I love you, too.”
When he moved to get up from the couch, I got up, too. I followed him into the bedroom, and we settled into our favorite starting sleep position—my legs tucked in between his and my arm across his chest. He held me in his arms again, still seeming to need physical reassurance that I wasn’t going anywhere.
There wouldn’t be any rough sex tonight, and I was okay with that. Somehow, this felt more intimate, anyway.