Jagged Ink: A Montgomery Ink: Colorado Springs Novel
Page 14
They hadn’t had the past that warred with their present.
But this was nice.
“Okay, so I think the Havarti is my favorite, but this smoked Gouda is amazing.”
She rubbed her tummy at Carter’s words and leaned into him. They were both sitting on the floor, the cheese plate on the coffee table as they finished up their meal and polished off the half bottle of wine she’d had on the counter.
“I’m sort of in love with everything that’s cheese-worthy, but I’m so full now. I cannot believe that was just the leftover cheese in your fridge.”
“I bet the next time Thea comes over, my fridge will be full again. I’m very spoiled that way.”
“I guess it comes from being the baby of the family.”
“I don’t mind that. Not at all.”
“I can see that.” He played with her hair and met her gaze. “Do you remember the first time?”
“The first time?”
“Our first time. Yes, it was our first date, or maybe it was the second. Because I always like to think of the time I fixed your tire as our first date.”
“Oh, really? That stressful time where I was trying not to freak out about my tire, and you were on your hands and knees helping me fix it? That was a date?”
“It was the first time I saw you. The first time we talked, and you gave me your number. I’d like to think of that as the first.”
“Maybe I might think about it like that, too.”
“So then, on our second date, I took you out to dinner and a movie, and then I took you here, right to this living room where we sat down and talked.”
“And then we weren’t talking anymore.”
She swallowed hard, her palms turning clammy.
“I’ve missed you, Carter.”
“I missed you, too.” He ran his hands through her hair, his thumb drawing a line along her jaw. “I don’t remember the last time we were together. Is that bad? Because it has to be bad.”
“I don’t remember either.” That was a lie. She remembered, and she had a feeling he did, too. It was just the when of it that was a little cloudy.
“We got so caught up making sure that our businesses were working, so involved in pretending that everything was okay when it wasn’t, that we just stopped. We just stopped being with each other, and then we stopped being who they were each other.”
His words hit home, and Roxie leaned into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Her hands were on his chest, his warm Henley beneath her skin. She truly loved this shirt.
“Do you ever wish we would’ve had a bigger wedding?” Carter asked, his voice soft.
She started, and then looked up at him. “No, I was never the girl who thought of the huge dress and the hundreds of people watching me. I always just wanted to be with my family and the man I loved. I never really thought about the china patterns or anything else special like that. I just wanted it to be.”
He nodded and cupped her face again. “I was always afraid that we had moved too fast, that I didn’t give you what you wanted.”
She shook her head quickly. “We got married as quickly as we did because we wanted to. Yes, the circumstances might’ve made us think we were pushing, but we were all in it no matter what. And, I had the exact day I wanted. I had my family, I had a simple dress, and I had you. It was all I needed.”
“Good. I probably should’ve asked you that before. But I was just afraid that you resented that you didn’t get the big weddings that Thea and Adrienne will probably have.”
“I never resented it. And I’d like to say I would’ve told you if I did, but we both know that we weren’t very good at talking with each other. We’re doing better now than we did throughout the entire year we were together I think.”
“I’m glad we are.”
“Me, too.”
“And, you were right,” Carter said softly, “I wanted to marry you before we found out about the baby. I had the ring with me, I was ready to go. The idea that you were pregnant just sort of pushed it into my head that I needed to ask right away. But then again, it also made me think, well, what was I waiting for? You know?”
Her heart warmed, and she nodded. “You told me that when you asked me to marry you. You said you’d had the ring for weeks, even though we’d only been together for a few months. If that.”
“And I told you the truth. I’d already been thinking about it, no matter how quickly our courtship went.”
“It’s just everything that happened after.”
She didn’t have to say anything more, she didn’t want to. They were already talking enough, so when Carter kissed her, she leaned into him and deepened the kiss.
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she whispered.
“So, what do you want to do then?”
“You know.” She bit his jaw, and his eyes darkened even more.
He wrapped her hair around his fist and tugged, just a little so it hurt, but it still felt so good. He deepened the kiss even more, and she nipped at his lips, her tongue tangling with his. She missed his taste, missed his kisses.
He was such a good kisser. So good with his tongue.
He was just so good at everything, it was hard to keep up sometimes.
But she pushed those thoughts from her head because that had nothing to do with her or him. They were just thoughts that would get in the way of what they were doing right then, and what they might do in the future.
Because this was different. Everything they had done so far was different. They were being open. Honest.
She wanted him. “Make love to me. Make love to me in the same place we did the first time. Right on this floor in my living room in front of the fire.”
“I can do that. I want to do that so badly. But if we do this, it can’t be the end. We can’t change how we’ve been talking to each other. And I know that makes me sound like a pussy, but I don’t give a fuck.”
“I thought you liked pussy,” she said, winking.
He laughed then, so hard that he shook against her. “I like your pussy.” A pause. “And I miss your pussy.”
“Now, with those words, why don’t you play with it?”
He laughed again and then sealed his mouth to hers. Soon, he was tugging at his Henley and pulling up her shirt. They moved the wine glasses and coffee table out of the way, and he pulled the blanket down to the floor so she was safely on top of it, cushioned, and he was nestled between her thighs. They kissed, slowly and leisurely.
They already knew each other, but this was getting to know each other once again.
This was her getting to know the pains of his body, the new scars on his arm and his side. She hiccupped a sob as she touched those scars, and then he lifted up so she could kiss them softly, trying to heal them with just her mouth.
Then he met her gaze, and they kissed again, soft and smooth and needing.
They undid each other’s pants, and then she was laying down under him in just her bra, bikini panties, and him in his boxer briefs. She could see the scar on his leg, and she ran her calf against it, soothing it.
He said it didn’t hurt anymore, but he had fallen on that side on the rink, and she knew he would bruise. But he had still gone out that day, just for her.
Or, maybe, for them. Roxie wouldn’t forget that.
Her stomach clenched, and she arched up into him as he slowly undid her bra, kissing between the valley of her breasts. And then his mouth went to her nipple before going to the other.
She gasped, out of breath as he plucked and sucked at her. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he pressed them together so he could kiss them at the same time.
He’d always loved her breasts, much like he loved her ass. He was forever kissing and touching and molding her. She had missed this so damned much.
They were learning each other again, not just their emotions, not just the memories, but each other’s bodies.
Sex was an important part of their relationship but had never been the only
thing. But, at one point, it had been the thing that they could rely on when nothing else worked.
So, the fact that they were trying to make everything else work and then coming to this, that meant everything.
They were going to make this work.
And then, all thoughts were gone when he slowly slipped her panties down her legs and put his mouth between her thighs.
She gasped, tangling her fingers in his hair as he sucked on her pussy. His fingers played with her clit, and then her lower lips. He was doing exactly what he had done in her dream, and she couldn’t help but whisper his name as she came, her legs clamping down on his shoulders as he continued to eat her out, sucking up her orgasm.
She hadn’t come that quickly in years. But, apparently, she needed him. She always needed him. And then, he was over her, and she was helping him slide off his boxer briefs.
He was hard and ready, moisture glistening at the tip. She gripped him, and he groaned. And then, she met his gaze as she ran her thumb over the slit on the top of his dick, spreading the moisture around.
“I’ve missed this,” she said, giving him a squeeze.
“I’ve missed this so damned much.”
“I’ve missed all of this. All of you. This isn’t the end,” Carter promised. “This is only the beginning.”
Maybe those words would’ve sounded cheesy to someone else, but not to her, not between them. This was just the two of them. Only them. Yes, their past and their present and even their future was all around them, but right then, it was just him and her.
Because she was still on birth control, and they were both still clean, he slid into her, no questions asked, none needed.
Because she trusted him, she trusted that he hadn’t touched that other woman when they weren’t together. And he trusted her because she had told him that she hadn’t been with another man.
Trust had never been the problem between them. It was trusting themselves that was the issue.
It was trusting their own worth to and with each other. He slid into her, hard and slow, and she ached.
“So tight,” he whispered and groaned.
“I think it’s because you’re too big,” she whispered, squeezing him internally.
Carter hovered above her and then took her lips in a daunting kiss. “You always say the best things to me.”
And then he moved. Her hands were going down his back, gently moving over his scars as he slid in and out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching into him.
They were moving as one, moving as if they had never been apart, and yet they had been apart just long enough to miss each other to the point of breaking.
She could feel every single pull of him, every single inhale and exhale. And then she came, and he followed, filling her with heat and his need.
And then the two of them were holding each other, still locked together as one as they lay on the floor of the living room, the same place they had first made love.
The very place she had fallen for him.
And then, they just held each other, no words needed.
Because the words would come, and they’d get through the hard parts.
But there had to be a light at the end of the tunnel.
And this…this was part of it.
She loved the man holding her, and she knew he loved her.
And not just because of the sex, not just because of what she was feeling right then, but because of everything. She thought that love could maybe be enough.
Maybe she could find that hope.
Maybe she was holding him, after all.
Chapter 15
Almost a month of dating his wife meant a month of learning new things about the two of them. And Carter was actually enjoying himself more than he thought possible.
He shouldn’t have been surprised though, because before they stopped talking, before they stopped being who they needed to be for each other, they had always enjoyed their time together.
They had always gone on dates, used whatever spare time away from both of their long hours of work so they could just be with one another.
They were friends, they always had been. And, somehow, that had gotten lost in it all. But Carter was glad that they were figuring it out. Together. Tonight, however, tonight he was going to enjoy himself again. He was going to go out with the woman he loved, and they were going to have dinner, see a movie, maybe go on a walk, and perhaps do something more. He and Roxie had only slept together twice in the weeks they’d been dating again. That first time had been so unromantic, neither had been able to speak let alone fully comprehend what it meant for them.
But they had talked for the rest of that evening, though he hadn’t spent the night.
Neither of them was ready for that. Maybe if he didn’t still have some of his stuff there, or if he didn’t actually have his name on the deed. Or if he hadn’t lived there, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But even though they had slept together on their second date, they were still taking things slowly. So, he hadn’t spent the night, and he hadn’t spent the night the second time they slept together either. That time, it had been hard and fast against the door in her bedroom, and then he had bent her over the edge of the bed, fucking her hard until they both came screaming each other’s names. He hadn’t spent the night, but he had stayed long enough to go at it again, this time slow with him behind, slowly pumping in and out of her.
They had gone achingly slow, surprisingly sweet.
There hadn’t been anything awkward about it.
None of the times they came together since reconnecting had been awkward.
And he knew that wouldn’t always be the case. Awkward sex was sometimes some of the best sex, in real couples and real-life situations.
But for now, they were Roxie and Carter again.
Only a different kind. The kind that actually spoke to one another and tried to stop hiding what they were feeling for fear of hurting one another. No, they weren’t completely done with the ghosts of their past, but they were working their way through them.
And it counted more than not.
Once again, Carter pulled his truck into the driveway and looked up at the house he had once lived in. He would love to move back in, would love to be in her life for more than just a date a week or just texting every day and phone calls. But they were getting closer, that much he knew.
Though there was one major thing they needed to discuss, one thing they needed to make sure they could pull through before they could move forward. And they were getting closer to being able to talk about it, but there were so many other things on the docket, they seemed to be pushing that down. Maybe it was to protect themselves, or maybe it was because they knew they would miss everything else if they talked about that first. Because it wasn’t just the big things, it was the little things, too. And he had learned the hard way not to ignore anything.
He hopped out of his truck and rubbed his hands together. It was still way too damn cold for late March and nearing spring in Colorado. Although, knowing his state, it would snow up until June with random ninety-degree days in the middle. It never eased in to nice weather. It was always sudden, intense, or a little bit of snow thrown in to remind you that winter was just around the corner.
Carter just hoped that tonight wouldn’t be too cold for a walk.
Because Roxie loved walking in the park, and he wanted to make sure they could do it again.
This time when Roxie opened her door, she was laughing, a smile on her face, wearing the skin-tight black dress that she had worn when they were together that always made his cock spring to action. He almost growled. She had long sleeves, and tights again, along with those black boots that he loved. They cupped her calves, and he knew that he’d love stripping them off of her.
Damn, if he was lamenting and waxing poetic about her boots, he was officially losing his mind.
“What’s so funny?” he asked as he walked inside, laying a kiss on her lips.
“I was just on the phone with Shep, and he was telling me a story about Livvy and jam and honey. Apparently, they have a joke about jam hands that I don’t really get, but I think it’s from a TV show.”
Carter snorted. “Oh, yeah, I know that joke. It’s like when all kids, no matter what you do, always end up with sticky hands. Even with no jam in the house. None in the vicinity, they still end up with jam hands. Sticky fingers that end up touching your face. Your hair. Jam everywhere.”
“Well, there was jam in his beard, jam in his hair, and it’s not like he is a little toddler anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter until they are eighteen and out of the house. If there is a will, there will be jam.”
“I think I need to ask my mom to stitch that onto a pillow for him. Shep would probably get a kick out of it.”
“Or you could try to do it.”
“Do you remember me sewing? Do you remember me knitting? Adrienne at least is decent at it. I am not good at art. I noticed.”
He shook his head and helped her to the truck again, this time giving her a hard kiss as he helped her into the cab. He closed the door and made his way to the other side and into the driver’s seat so he could finish the conversation without losing his thoughts.
“You need to stop giving yourself a hard time about that art thing. You are brilliant.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to get under this dress.”
“One, of course, I want to get under that dress. But me telling you that you are brilliant has nothing to do with that.”
“Sure.”
“No, you are brilliant. And it’s not that you don’t know you’re brilliant. Because I know you do.”
“Now you’re just confusing me.”
“Maybe, but that’s because I’m not using the right words. You are so damn smart, Roxie. And talented. Just because you don’t paint like your sisters or knit or any of the other physical crafty things they do, doesn’t mean you don’t have talent. It’s just that your talents lie in other areas. You’ve always beat yourself up about that. And I’ve never liked it, but I’ve never known how to tell you that I believe in you. I think the art that you bring home from that Brushes with Lushes is beautiful. I would totally put it on our wall if you let me. Because it’s something you did. It’s something you created. I can’t do that. I’ve tried. And I’m not saying that to try and make you feel better or try to make me feel better about not being able to do it. It’s just something that doesn’t happen. And just because your sisters can do some things differently, doesn’t mean that your worth is of any less value.”