Everything was just right.
Until this.
“You need to go talk to him,” Dawn said.
Paige realized she was standing at the tree, staring blankly into space, a misshapen clay star she’d made in second grade dangling from one hand.
Molly, hanging a crystal snowflake from a high branch, nodded in agreement with Dawn. Paige realized that Dawn must have told her about the love quiz.
Which was okay with Paige. If you couldn’t trust your honorary other sister, well, who could you trust? And Molly was every bit as respectful of a confidence as Dawn.
Paige hung the ugly ornament, tucking it in among the branches where it wouldn’t be too obvious. “Funny, I love the ugly ones as much as the pretty ones. Each one is a memory, precious. To be treasured, you know?” Tears blurred her vision. She dashed them away.
And Dawn said, “I mean it, Paige. Go!”
A sad little whimper escaped her. “You think? Really?”
“Yes, I do,” Dawn declared.
“He’s probably at the shop—”
“Go,” Dawn commanded again.
* * *
Paige freshened up a little, put on minimal makeup and changed into red skinny jeans, ankle boots and a raglan-sleeved red sweater over a tan tank.
Dawn was waiting at the door, holding her coat.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled her SUV in next to Carter’s dually at BCC.
Would he be annoyed with her for butting in on his private time with his latest four-wheeled baby?
Too bad.
Dawn was right. Paige needed to talk to him. Needed to tell him...
What?
Better not think about that. If she started thinking, she’d never get out of the car.
She shoved open her door and jumped out, taking off at a run for the shop’s side entrance. She could hear hard rock blaring, even through the thick walls and steel door.
He’d left it unlocked. She pushed the door wide. The loud music got louder. She hesitated on the threshold, but only for a second. Then, on shaky legs, she went in, pausing to shut the door gently and turn the lock, too.
The shop went dead quiet.
She whirled back around just in time to see Carter toss the stereo remote onto a workbench.
“Paige.” His voice was so rough, but in the most delicious way. He wore old jeans, a black tee and an ancient navy blue hoodie. And he had a black smudge in the middle of his forehead. Had any man on earth ever looked so hot?
Nope. Never. Not in the whole history of humankind.
And the way he stared at her—as if he’d missed her, as if he hadn’t seen her in years.
Sparks flashed across the surface of her skin from that look in his eyes. He looked...determined somehow.
What in the world was happening here?
And then he started moving, started coming toward her across the concrete floor. Coming for her, with...
Could that possibly be desire in his eyes?
Please. She must be dreaming. She blinked several times in rapid succession, to wake herself up.
But she didn’t wake up. And by then, well, if this was a dream, she hoped she wouldn’t wake up. Because Carter still had all that thrilling fire in his eyes and he kept coming until he was standing right in front of her.
She gasped as he reached out to cradle her face between his big strong oil-smudged hands. “Paige.”
And then he kissed her.
Chapter Four
Dear sweet Lord in heaven.
He smelled so good. Like gasoline and the air right before a thunderstorm. Gasoline and ozone and something else, too, something so very Carter it made her heart ache.
His big hands were rough and warm against her cold cheeks. Amazing, that kiss. Those firm, hot lips of his at first gentle, nudging, brushing...
And then pressing harder as her own mouth gave to him, opening, letting him in.
His tongue. Rough and soft and hot and slippery. It swept the inner surfaces of her mouth, slid in between her upper lip and her teeth, tasting her, knowing her.
There was a groan. Hers? His? She really couldn’t tell.
Wherever that low, purring sound came from, it echoed deliciously inside her head as his fingers threaded upward, combing through the hair at her temples, tracing the shape of her ear. Oh, those fingers. They caused a series of shivers like hot, fierce electric shocks to arc across her scalp.
Another groan. That one had definitely come from her own throat, the sound rising from the center of her, all quivery with need.
And still, he kept kissing her, touching her so lightly, running those rough fingers down the sides of her throat, around the back of her neck, clasping her, holding her in place.
So that he could kiss her some more.
Breathless, she was, dizzy with the wonder and the heat of it. Had there ever, in the history of time, been such a slow, hot kiss as this one?
Their first real kiss...
My God.
Imagine that.
Her knees were actually trembling. She had the strangest sensation of falling. At the same time, she was soaring. And his mouth just kept on playing with hers.
She managed to lift her own two hands and grab on to his big rock-hard forearms. That was the only way she kept herself from slithering to the concrete floor, just melting downward, knees collapsing, into a quaking puddle of wonder, confusion and lust.
It ended from overload. The pleasure, the wonder, the total disbelief that this could be happening between her and Carter...
It all swirled together until her head was reeling and her knees were knocking.
With a soft, lost cry, she broke the kiss and swayed against him.
“Paige...” He whispered her name as he gathered her in, those bulging arms of his holding on, holding her up.
With a sigh, she let her head fall against his big chest. “I can’t believe...”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating thrillingly against her ear. “What?”
“You. And me...” She took a minute to breathe. Just breathe. His scent was all around her, that wonderful smell of rain and heat and axle grease. “Can’t be happening...”
“Oh, it’s happening.” He caught her chin and tipped her face up so she had to look at him. He was so beautiful. Moss-green eyes, finely cut cheekbones, thick, scruffy hair. And that mouth...
Oh, my. That mouth...
He rubbed at her cheek with his thumb. “I got grease on you. Sorry.”
Like she even cared. “It’s okay. It’s fine, really...”
He looked at her so hungrily, a look that made her face feel hot and the core of her feel heavy and lazy and ready for anything. “But I had to do that,” he said. “I had to kiss you.”
She stared up at him, drinking him in with her eyes—drunk on him, really. Her mind felt so slow, so foolish and thick. “Uh, you did? You had to kiss me?”
“Yeah.” Beneath the scruff on his lean cheeks, a muscle twitched. “And I’m glad I did.”
Her heart beat faster. With happiness. With hope. “Yeah?”
He had that determined look again. “Paige, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
At that, her heart bounced skyward and got caught in her throat. She swallowed hard to make it drop back into her chest where it belonged. “Ahem. Um. Sure. Yeah. Go for it.”
He took her by the shoulders and set her gently away, all the while holding her there with his eyes. “I’ll just wash my hands. We can go in my office.”
“This is starting to sound kind of scary...”
His still held her in place with those big hands. “You’re looking a little freaked. You’re not going bolt on me, are you?”
“Of course not.” It was just that, well, she’d come to talk to him. And now suddenly he had to talk to her? What about? She forced a trembling smile. “Go on. Wash up. I’ll wait right here.”
He gave her shoulders one final squeeze and then he went to the metal closet next to the concrete sink in the corner. He took off the hoodie and hung it in the closet. She watched the broad, powerful muscles of his back shift beneath the black T-shirt as he flipped on the taps, soaped up and rinsed his hands and then washed his face and neck, too.
When he came back to her, the T-shirt was wet at the neck and he smelled of borax and Joy dishwashing soap, the familiar combination they used in the shop to get the engine grease off without taking the skin, too. That smell, so familiar, made her suddenly teary-eyed. Borax and Joy and all the years that she and Carter had been friends.
From casual friends. To good friends. To best friends. It had been a natural development, an almost imperceptible progression. Over time, they grew closer, their lives meshing at home and here at BCC.
She really liked being his best friend.
But all of that would change now, which scared her to death and broke her heart, too.
“You okay?” He stood right in front of her again, so big and strong and hot and beautiful. No wonder his women always ended up falling too hard. The old T-shirt fit him like a second skin. She could see the heavily cut musculature of his shoulders and chest, see those washboard abs. She could see all the things about him that she’d never really paid much attention to until recently. The male things, the things that now made her want him way more than could possibly be wise.
“Paige?”
She shook herself. “I’m fine. Yeah.”
He lifted a hand—slowly, as though he feared he might spook her—and he guided her hair back from her face on one side, following the long strands down, smoothing them over her shoulder. An encouraging smile pulled at those lips she really wanted to kiss again. “My office?”
“Sure.”
He let his fingers trail down her arm to clasp her hand. And then he pulled her along with him, across the shop to the inner door.
His office had the basics: desk, laptop, guest chair, file cabinet. And an ugly brown corduroy sofa on one wall. He dropped to the sofa and pulled her down next to him.
“See, it all started with Murray Preble.” He eased one big arm along the sofa back and hitched a knee up to the cushions.
She took off her coat and didn’t know what to do with it, so she tossed it across the sofa arm. “Murray the auto parts guy?”
“Yep.” His bronze eyebrows drew together. “But first, there was Sherry.”
Paige sat up a little straighter when he said his old girlfriend’s name. “What about Sherry?”
He raked his spiky hair back with his fingers. “You were out of it when that happened.”
“Out of it? Excuse me?”
“Don’t get all prickly. It was last week. Black Friday. When you were in Denver with Nell and Jody and having those hormone problems, remember?”
She reminded herself not to get annoyed with him for bringing up hormone problems, the way men always did. After all, she’d told him it was hormones. “Right. I remember.”
“I wanted to tell you all this sooner, but you haven’t been talking to me—or even wanting me around.”
She felt contrite then, she really did. “I am sorry, Carter. That I haven’t been available, that we haven’t talked.”
“It’s okay.” He looked at her so steadily. “We’re past it, right?”
She gave him a shy smile. “Yeah. We are. Totally past it.”
He was staring at her mouth. “I really want to kiss you again.” And his gaze shifted up to meet her waiting eyes. “You better stop looking at me like that. It’s way too distracting.”
A wave of sweet pleasure washed through her. He wanted to kiss her. Wow. This could be good. Really, really good. “Sorry.” She tried her best to look unkissable. “Go on. It was on Black Friday...”
“Yeah. I was here, in the shop, working out the kinks in Terrence Bolger’s ’61 Lincoln Continental. Sherry showed up...”
He went on to tell her all about Sherry in her thong and Santa hat and killer high heels. Paige ignored the twinge of jealousy as he related the story. Sherry Leland was drop-dead gorgeous. But Paige knew Carter. He’d been over Sherry for a long time now. She even felt a little sad for the other woman when Carter told her how he’d put Sherry’s coat back on her and sent her on her way.
Carter continued. “Then on Saturday, Murray comes by. He wants a private word with me. Turns out, he’s in love with Sherry and he wants me to find another girlfriend. He said that if I found someone new, Sherry would finally have to accept that it was over between her and me.”
Paige couldn’t help scoffing. “Murray wants Sherry, so you’re supposed to find another girlfriend. Just like that?”
Carter grunted. “Exactly. I told him no.”
“Of course you did.”
“He got a little worked up. And then he started talking about you.”
“Hold on. What have I got to do with anything?”
Carter eyed her sideways. “Don’t get pissed off, now.”
“I’m not. I’m also not following. Could you just answer my question, please?”
“Fine. Murray said I ought to get together with you.”
Her throat clutched. “Um. With me?”
“That’s right. He said that you should be my girlfriend. He said everyone in town knows that you and me are meant for each other.”
Oh. My. Golly. Weakly, she asked, “They do?” She couldn’t believe it. Murray had told Carter what Dawn had told her, that everyone “knew” about her and Carter—except her and Carter.
Carter nodded. “According to Murray, you and me have a secret thing going on—so secret, we don’t even know about it ourselves. According to Murray, Sherry has always felt that you’re the one rival for my, er, affections that she could never beat.”
“Wow.” So there really was hope, then, for the two of them, maybe? Cautiously, she asked him, “So...what did you say then?”
Another grunt from Carter. “What do you think? I told Murray again that I’m not getting a new girlfriend just so that he can have a better shot with Sherry.”
“Of course you’re not,” she echoed numbly, all her bright, shiny new hopes dying a thousand deaths. “That would be a really bad reason to start a new relationship.”
“Because I don’t want a new relationship.”
Pull yourself together, Kettleman. It’s not his fault if he’s not interested.
But then, why had he kissed her?
Why had he said she made him want to kiss her again?
He was looking worried all of a sudden. “Er, Paige? You still with me?”
She drew her shoulders back. “Of course. I’m right here. I heard every word and...well, okay, then. That’s settled.”
Twin lines formed between his eyebrows. “What’s settled?”
“That you’re not just getting some girl to go out with because Murray can’t stand the competition.”
“Damn straight I’m not. But Murray did get me thinking...”
“Ah.” She tried to appear interested in the usual best-friend sort of way. “Thinking about...?”
“You. And me.”
“Wait a minute. You and me? What do you mean, you and me?”
He was staring off toward the fitness calendar on the far wall. “I wish I could describe it, Paige. It was like a door, you know? A door opening up in my mind.”
“I am just not following.”
“A door that swung wide...and there you were.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. And it, well, it just hit me,
you know?”
“What hit you?”
“What I want, what I’ve been looking for all this time...it’s you.”
A strange, squeaky sound escaped her. “Er, me?”
“I have a proposal, Paige.”
This was all so very confusing. “I don’t...what?”
“Just listen. Just let me explain.”
“I...okay. All right, Carter. You go ahead, why don’t you? You go ahead and explain.”
Carter jumped up so suddenly that she gasped. She stared up over his lean hips and the very tempting hint of package displayed by the frayed zipper of his jeans. She took in his corrugated abs and broad chest so lovingly outlined by that old T-shirt. She skimmed his big shoulders, his thick, powerful neck, let her gaze track on up, until she was looking directly into his shining green eyes.
That was when he said, “I want us to get engaged.”
Paige swallowed. Hard. “Engaged in what?”
“Engaged, Paige. As in ‘to be married.’ I want us to get engaged right now, today, and I want us to get married within a few months. I want to move into your house with you and Dawn. Because I want to be together with you—really together. Completely together. And that means marriage. That means children. That means a family, Paige. I want us to make a family.”
Somehow she managed to sputter out, “But I don’t—”
He cut her off, with enthusiasm. “Open your mind, Paige.” He dropped to the couch again and took her chin in his big borax-scented hand. “Just open your mind and you’ll see that it’s perfect, you’re perfect.” He said it so tenderly her heart kind of melted. “And you’ve been right there in the center of my life for so long now.”
“Oh, Carter...”
“You’re everything I want in a woman. You’ve got heart, Paige. And a great sense of humor. You’re good at math. Easy on the eyes...” He let go of her chin, but he didn’t stop talking. “You’re sane and smart and reasonable.”
“Uh, thank you. I think.”
“There’s never going to be any big emo drama with you because I’m not in love with you and you’re not in love with me.”
Carter Bravo's Christmas Bride Page 6
