by J. S. Scott
Every bedroom had an en suite bathroom and a sitting area. But I was stunned when I finally hit the master.
I was accustomed to the nicer things, but Carter’s room was completely decadent. Not only did it have a huge sitting area, but the entire room had the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the huge living area downstairs.
There was a breakfast area with a fridge and a breakfast table.
And his spa bathroom was gorgeous.
“Unbelievable,” I uttered as I wandered out of the bathroom.
Carter wasn’t an ostentatious type of guy. He obviously liked the contemporary style that was no-nonsense. The house had clean lines, vaulted ceilings, and not a single hint of gold or fancy, ornate light fixtures.
That was probably why I loved his home so much. I favored the same type of designs.
Sure, some of his abstract art pieces and sculptures were probably pricey, but the décor was far from being gaudy.
In a short amount of time, I discovered his home office, and I couldn’t resist going in to take a look.
I was taken aback when I saw the personal pictures adorning a large amount of wall space.
“Do you need rescue, or can you find your way back downstairs?” I heard Carter drawl from the open office door.
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “I think I’ll be fine. I was just looking at your pictures. You played college football?”
He had a section dedicated to his college years, and most of them were of him in football gear.
“I did. I was one of the few Ivy League players whose stats were good enough to get drafted into the NFL.”
“What happened?” I asked curiously.
“I wanted to go on with my education. I loved the game, and I still do. But it wasn’t real life for me. I wanted something...different. I guess I just didn’t have enough passion for it to get my brains scrambled as an adult.”
I turned to look at him. He’d moved in right behind me, studying the photos himself.
Interesting. He’d turned down the chance to be a football superstar to keep studying.
I grilled him on some of the other photos. Finally, I asked about a family picture that looked like it had been taken while Carter was still in college.
“Is that your parents and your sisters?” I asked, pointing at the large photo.
I recognized the Lawson brothers, but I’d never seen much about his sisters.
I thought I’d seen a moment of sadness flash in his eyes as he pointed to the two young women. “This is Harper, and this one is Dani. And yeah, those are my parents in the back. They died in a car accident. They were hit by a drunk driver just as I was finishing my graduate degree.”
My heart ached for him. It was pretty evident that he still wasn’t over his loss. “I’m so sorry,” I answered softly.
“Don’t be,” he said gruffly. “It was my damn fault.”
Before I could answer, Carter turned and left the room.
Brynn
I followed Carter downstairs, still reeling from his statement that he’d somehow caused his parents’ deaths.
I took the glass of wine he offered, and we both sat in the spacious living room. I sat in a comfy chair, and Carter sat across from me on the sofa.
“If your parents were hit by a drunk driver, how were you in any way at fault?” I asked.
Maybe I shouldn’t pry, but I’d seen the brief, haunted look on his face, and I couldn’t let it go.
“Just forget it,” he said in a raspy voice. “I’m not even sure why I said it.”
He obviously believed it, so I didn’t want to forget it. “Tell me,” I prodded. I was the last one who was going to judge him.
There was a long silence before he spoke. “I was home on break from college. Two days after I got there, I came down with a cold. Mom was being Mom, and she decided she needed to go get some medicine because she didn’t have anything in the house. My dad decided to ride along with her. Fifteen minutes later, they were both gone. Because I had a goddamn cold.”
“Carter, she was your mother. Mine would have done the same thing. It was the drunk driver’s fault, not yours.” I was flabbergasted that he’d shouldered the blame.
“Why in the fuck did I even mention the fact that I was feeling like shit to them? The fact is, had I not been at home and whining about being sick, they’d still be here.”
“You can’t do this to yourself, Carter. You can’t. Things just happen. Everyone who dies an untimely death was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you keep blaming yourself. Certainly none of your siblings think you’re responsible.”
“They don’t know,” he replied, his voice raw. “I never mentioned why they were out, and I was the first one to get home on break.”
“I don’t honestly think any of them would blame you. It wouldn’t make sense. You need to stop thinking it’s your fault. I have a feeling your parents would hate it that you did and still do.”
God, I could feel his pain, and it was tearing me apart. I understood how his mind could go to those dark places, but it had to stop.
“Fuck, don’t you think I know that?” he rasped. “But I’ve never been able to stop thinking about how things could have gone differently that day if I’d just done something different.”
“I get that. I really do,” I said emphatically. “It’s easy to blame ourselves for something that had absolutely nothing to do with our actions. But in truth, it was a drunk driver who killed your parents, not you. Your actions were innocent. You were sick. It was out of your control. And your mother would have noticed even if you hadn’t mentioned it. Mothers are scary that way.”
“Yeah, my mom noticed everything,” he conceded. “I think she had eyes in the back of her head.”
“I understand that you miss them,” I said gently. “But they wouldn’t want you to eat yourself alive over something that’s not your fault.”
He caught my gaze, and I felt submerged in his pain. I hurt because I understood him.
“I’ll try,” he said in a clipped tone, his eyes now shuttered and wary.
He tossed back half of his drink, and I sipped mine.
I knew he’d just brought the subject to an abrupt close. Carter Lawson wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to be in any way vulnerable, and I knew I’d just gotten a rare glimpse at his soul.
But he wasn’t about to keep baring it to me.
“So how is the clothing business going?” he asked, sounding completely composed again.
“I decided to become a silent investor instead of a partner,” I shared. “I have other things I want to pursue, but I’ll still be there for Laura whenever she needs me. And I’d love to get any advice you have for marketing.”
“What made you decide to do that?” he asked curiously.
“It was actually Laura’s passion, not mine. I love the entire concept, and I believe in it, but I decided I’d rather design travel bags. I’ve always had a frustration with purses. It’s a problem I’d like to solve. I’m determined to make a bag that makes sense.”
“Not that I know a damn thing about handbags, but why don’t they make sense now?”
I picked up the purse I was using. “This. It’s a designer bag that’s really stylish, but I hate it. I’ve pretty much hated every purse I’ve ever had.” I tipped it toward him. “What sense does it make to have two open pockets? I pretty much never use them. If I’m traveling, everything has to go into the zipper part because if I dump it over, everything falls out. And don’t get me started on the fact that it isn’t practical if I’m traveling to a rainy area. It’s not weather resistant.”
He lifted a brow. “I have a feeling there’s more.”
I sighed. “I travel, and I’ve had my purse snatched three times, and been pickpocketed a few more times. Twice, the t
hief cut the strap. To be practical for traveling, the bags would need an indestructible cross body strap, and a wallet with RFID security to keep my credit card numbers from being stolen.”
He grinned. “Anything else?”
“Yes. It still needs to be stylish. Why can’t function be pretty? I want it all. There are some decent travel bags now, but I want one that has everything.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to do it yourself. Business is all about wanting more,” he contemplated. “That’s why Lawson did so well. My brothers and I wanted it all, too. You can do this, Brynn. Go for what you want. And don’t settle for anything less.”
“I’m working on it,” I confided. “I want to do a whole line of gorgeous travel bags that women can travel with safely.”
“Can I see it?” he asked. “I’m still willing to help you out in any way I can with either one of your businesses.”
I shook my head. “I’m not done with it yet. I still have a lot of research to do, and I have to finish the designs. I’m hoping to have a trial version as soon as possible so I can test it when I travel for my shoots.”
“When do you have to go?”
“I need to go see my mom. It’s been way too long, and I’m going to book my trip to Michigan. I don’t have to travel for business for a few months.”
“You don’t have to book a flight,” he said. “I have a private jet that will take you anywhere you want to go.”
I looked at him, stunned. “I can’t just use your private jet. It’s expensive.”
“I think I can handle the added expense,” he said wryly. “And if I’m not using it, it just sits at the hangar. When did you plan on going to Michigan?”
I shrugged. “Probably in a couple of weeks.”
“Give me a date and I’ll take care of it.”
I had to admit, accepting his offer was tempting. I’d have to do one or two layovers to get to Michigan, and going direct would be so nice. But there was no way I was using Carter’s jet. “We’ll see,” I answered noncommittally.
“You said you wanted to thank me for helping you out. Take my jet and we’ll call it even.”
I let out a startled laugh. “I don’t think that accepting another favor is actually a thank-you.”
“It could be,” he answered.
I held up a hand in defeat. “Okay. Let me think about it.”
“Is it always this hard to get you to accept an offer to help you out?” he asked.
I thought about his question for a moment before I answered. “Other than my mom and Laura, nobody has ever really offered to help me. I had to fight hard to get to the top of my field. And then I taught myself to become a good investor since I know I won’t be a model forever. I’ve pretty much been on my own since I was a teenager. My mom had cancer, so it was time for me to take care of her. I didn’t want to bother her with any of my issues. They were pretty small compared to hers.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s been out of my life since I was fourteen, and he’s dead now,” I told him.
“No siblings?”
I shook my head. “None. But Laura has been like a sister to me. We met pretty early in our careers. We both decided that we weren’t going to compromise our health for a modeling career, and we’ve stuck with that together ever since.”
“What about boyfriends? None of them ever offered?”
His question was stilted and tense, like he didn’t really want to hear about my love life.
“I don’t have complicated relationships, Carter. I can’t. I travel too much.”
He shrugged. “I don’t do complicated either, so I get that.”
I downed the rest of my wine, and then stood up. I knew I needed to leave, but strangely, I didn’t really want to go. “I better get back down to my condo.”
He stood. “Have dinner with me, Brynn. I know I was kind of a jerk last time I asked, but this time I’m asking because I’d really like to spend time with you.”
I gave him my empty wine glass as he held his hand out for it, shocked by how much I really wanted to say yes. I didn’t want the night to end, either, but I was starting to like Carter way too much.
He wasn’t nearly as arrogant as he’d come off on first acquaintance. He hid the good parts of himself well, but there was a decent man beneath his alpha arrogance. I just didn’t know if I wanted to know all of him.
It would make the lust I had for him even worse.
I followed him to the kitchen, where he was putting our glasses in the dishwasher. “I can’t, Carter. I’m sorry.”
He turned to face me. “I don’t get you, Brynn. I think we both know that we have some kind of crazy chemistry. I think we need to explore it. You feel it, too. I know you do.”
I nodded slowly. “I’m not even going to try to deny that. I’m attracted to you, Carter. But I just told you that I don’t do complicated.”
His expression was intense as he answered in a graveled voice, “It doesn’t have to be complicated. We just need to figure out what’s happening, because I’ve sure as hell not wanted a woman as much as I want you. Hell, this isn’t comfortable for me, either. But I can’t just fucking ignore it.”
“You have women falling at your feet,” I squeaked. “You don’t need me.”
He moved forward like a predator stalking his prey. “I think I do need you, Brynn.”
He was close, so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it set mine on fire. I wanted this man so much that I ached, but he scared me.
I was backed up to the counter, and I stared up at him. He made me feel safe and terrified at the same time.
His first touch was gentle, just a thumb on my cheek that trailed gently down my face.
“I want to kiss you, Brynn, but I promised I’d ask for your permission. Don’t say no,” he said huskily, his blue eyes drilling into mine.
My body was trembling just from a simple touch. What would it be like if I let him kiss me again?
“Carter,” I whispered, feeling like I was in a lust-filled trance.
He put a hand into my hair, but he was gentle, his fingers merely exploring. “I need to kiss you,” he said gutturally.
My damn body was betraying me, and I wanted to make a connection with Carter so desperately that it was getting physically painful.
I could feel his warm breath on my lips, but it was obvious that he wasn’t going to close the small distance without me saying the one word that would make it happen.
All I had to do was say the word.
“Yes,” I said in a voice that was almost a moan.
I reached up, sank my hands into his hair, and yanked his mouth down to mine.
The moment our lips touched, I surrendered. Maybe it was just a brief encounter, but I was going to revel in it.
Because Carter liked control, I gave it to him. And got exactly what I needed.
He devoured my mouth, his tongue owning it. The chemistry between us ignited until I was giving back as much as he gave.
I whimpered as he lifted his head to nibble on my lips, and then swooped down again for more.
Sweet baby Jesus! I can’t get enough.
There was nothing I wanted more than to rip open his shirt just so I could touch his bare skin.
In that moment, I was willing to give him every damn thing he wanted, and that was the thought that made me come to my senses.
I was panting when I finally pushed against him, needing to put some distance between us.
He lifted his head and looked at me, his expression puzzled. “What’s wrong?” he asked hoarsely.
“I can’t do this, Carter. I can’t,” I said, feeling panicked and breathless.
He gently pushed a stray hair away from my face. “Why, Brynn? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Te
ars of frustration started to trickle down my cheeks. I could easily give him some bullshit, but after what he’d shared earlier, I gave him the truth. “I have trust issues, Carter. Big ones. I have for a long time. I can’t explain. I’m sorry. I need to go.”
He leaned back, and I took the opportunity to wriggle out of his embrace.
Embarrassed, I scrambled to make my way to the front door, and was relieved when I was able to go down the elevator without a key.
Only when I was safely in my own condo could I lean back against the closed locked door and really cry.
Carter
“Do you seriously believe that Mom and Dad died because you were sick?” Jett asked the next day, his voice astonished.
My little brother had wanted to take a break from all the party planning that his fiancée and her best friend were doing at his penthouse, so I’d met him at a bar by the waterfront for a drink.
Fuck! It seemed like once I’d spilled my guts to Brynn, I was determined to become a guy who actually talked about his emotions. I’d given up the whole story of how our parents had been out because of me to Jett.
I didn’t like doing it, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
What in the hell was Brynn doing to me?
I didn’t talk about heavy shit. Ever. Business was my life.
“Maybe not so much anymore,” I confessed to Jett as we sat at an outside table, downing a couple of beers. “But it seems like every person I get close to either dies or gets hurt. I’ve never been any good for anybody.”
“How do you figure?” Jett asked.
“What if I’d signed up with PRO to do the rescue missions you ended up doing? Marcus asked me to be part of it, and I turned him down. I was too damn busy trying to conquer the business world. Would you ever have signed up to risk your ass trying to get hostages out of hostile countries? And even if you did, would me being there have changed the way the helicopter accident happened? Could it have been me who got injured instead of you? Because I would have been fucking happy to have it be me instead of you.”
My little brother looked stunned, and I couldn’t really blame him. I was generally a cold-hearted bastard, but everything I’d just said was the truth.
