“Beautiful?” I call out as I walk into the house.
“Back here!” she yells from what sounds like her bedroom.
I walk in and see she’s standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, doing her hair and makeup.
“Babe.”
“Hmm?” she asks, taking a clip out of her hair before she starts curling another section of hair.
“Why was your door unlocked?”
“Um, it was?”
“It was.”
“How do you know?”
I raise my eyebrows at her then spread my arms out to my sides. “Well…”
“Oh! Duh, you’re in here. Um, maybe I forgot?”
“You never forget,” I remind her, knowing this to be true.
“I don’t know? I guess I did this time?” she tells me, but I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just wondering,” I reassure her, trying not to worry myself. I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her stomach. I lean in close and bend my head to kiss her on the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. I groan. “You always smell so damn good.”
“Mmm,” she hums, leaning back against me.
I look at her through the mirror, and she meets my eyes, then her attention flits over my face. She gasps. “What happened?!”
I shrug, not wanting her to worry even though a large — very large, if I’m being honest — part of me is afraid that it’s quite a bit to worry about, considering I’m certain I just went several rounds with Vince.
“I came from the gym. You should see the other guy,” I joke, not wanting her to worry.
“Who?” she asks, her fingers delicately tracing over the small cut on my cheek.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Just some dude at Tate’s I had a bout with.” The lie settles in my stomach like a ton of bricks.
“You’ve never met him before?”
“Nope.”
At least that’s not a lie.
“Then why did you two bout?”
“He came in looking to blow off some steam.” I need her to fully trust me, and from the way she didn’t like it that I kept it from her that I knew Vince was in the area for just a few hours, I know I should tell her, but not tonight. Tate and Will are keeping an eye on Jack, and as long as I’m with Carly, I’m not worried for her safety.
“Hmm. Let me get you cleaned up.”
I definitely don’t deny her that, soaking up any moment I can get of having her hands on me. After she has placed a small bandage on my cut, I walk to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I take a swig and lean my arms against the counter, trying to piece together what happened in the last few hours.
I scrub a hand down my face, feeling the tension in every part of my body coiling tight. I fight against the onslaught of furious thoughts threatening to hijack my mind and take a deep breath, shaking it off, and crack my neck from side to side. No way am I allowing thoughts of Vince to get into my head, to dim the light that is Carly.
I reach into my coat pocket for my Chapstick, my lips are always dry from having my mouth guard in, but I don’t find it.
“Do you have any Chapstick?” I holler to Carly.
“Yeah, side pocket in my purse. It’s on the shelf in the closet by the garage door.”
I walk over and grab her purse from the closet and set it on the kitchen table. “All I see is that lip gloss stuff,” I say as I dig through the pocket.
“Not that, you weirdo. There’s some Burt’s Bees stuff in there.”
I grab all the tubes I can find and pull out one that says Burt’s Bees on the side. I take off the dark red cap. The color of the lip balm is almost as dark as the cap. “Uh, babe? Is this right? It looks a little funny.”
“The Burt’s Bees, right?”
“That’s what it says,” I tell her, still examining the color. It looks like lipstick. There’s no way this is right. Right?
“Then that’s the stuff. Sorry, that’s the only kind I have. I’m super addicted to it.”
“This is what you use?” I ask her, knowing that her lips always taste amazing, like cherries.
I shrug my shoulders, assuming this is the right stuff. It must be the reddish color because of the cherries, I suppose. Do they put real cherries in it? Maybe that’s why it tastes so good. I glide the balm over my lips. It doesn’t taste like cherries, which I think is a little weird since hers always do, but whatever. They feel so much better now. I felt girly enough asking for it. I’m not going to bring up the taste, too.
“Babe! You ready? I’m starving and want to get to Tess and Barrett’s!” I holler at her through her house.
“Two minutes. I promise! I’ll be ready. You can wait in the car if you want!” she hollers back.
“Alright. I’ll go warm it up for ya!”
I head out the front door into the already dark night, climb into my SUV, and start it up so it will be nice and warm when she gets in. One thing I love about Carly is when she says two minutes, that’s what she actually means. So, soon enough, she’s entering the passenger side and settling in. She buckles her seatbelt and heaves a sigh.
“See? Ready,” she says with a smile in her voice.
I snicker. “I see that. Hungry?”
“Starving.”
I reach over and grab her hand then thread our fingers together and rest our joined hands on my thigh. I rub my thumb over her knuckle then lift our hands and kiss the back of hers. She turns her head and looks over at me through the dark interior of the SUV.
“Thank you,” she says.
“For?”
“Everything.”
I smile over at her even though she probably can’t see it, and I kiss her hand once more.
It’s such a simple statement, but it hits me in my gut, and if I were standing up I have no doubt my knees would buckle.
The drive over to my sister’s house is a short one, so it’s crazy that so much was said in the few minutes. And in such a few words.
Soon we’re pulling up to Tess’s house and as hungry as I am, I also want to relish those words. But I know that Tess will know we’re here already because she’s a freak and has beyond a sixth sense, more like a twelfth sense too.
We walk up to the house hand in hand and let ourselves in the front door. Long ago we stopped knocking at each other’s homes.
I can hear the typical fury of commotion that is the Ryan’s household as we walk into the kitchen.
“Hey, everyone,” I say.
There’s a chorus of hellos, but no one seems to be too affected by our appearance.
Tess is at the stove stirring what looks to be some fried apples, Barrett is cutting up a large roast beef, and the kids are working together to set the plates. Maggie is placing a plate of twice-baked potatoes in the center of the farmhouse-style table that Barrett built for Tess years ago.
Harper looks at us first and rushes past me directly into Carly’s arms. She hugs her tightly around her stomach.
“Ms. Hanson! I missed you! Did you miss me?”
“Of course! I always miss you when we’re not at school.”
“I kind of figured that,” Harper says, making all of us laugh.
“Need any help?” I ask.
Barrett looks over his shoulder and does a double-take. “Nah, we got— What the hell?”
“What?”
“What the hell are you wearing?”
I look down at my clothes, wondering what he’s talking about, and look over at Carly in question. She busts out laughing, causing the rest of the family to stare at me, apparently wondering what’s so funny.
Grady speaks up first. “Uncle James, is there some other news you needed to tell us?”
“I’m so confused. What are you talking about?” I’m wearing a pair of dark jeans, brown boots, and a long-sleeve navy blue Henley. Not to brag, but thinking I’m looking pretty damn good.
“Oh my gosh, what did you put on?”
Still.
; Confused.
“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I ask, gesturing to my clothes.
“Nah, brother. Not your clothes. I didn’t realize you were easing yourself into makeup.”
“Huh?”
I scratch my head, looking around the room. Tess and Carly are leaning on each other, laughing so hard they’re holding their stomachs. Harper and Maggie are sitting on the floor hooting. Grady and Barrett are being idiots and making kissing faces while they wipe tears from their eyes.
“Would someone like to fill me in here?”
“Oh babe. What type of lip balm did you use?”
How many kinds of lip balm does she have? “The Burt’s Bees stuff! Like you said! Why?”
“Uh, I didn’t mean to use the lip tint, you idiot!”
“You said it was the right stuff!”
“Didn’t you notice it was red?”
“Well, yeah. I thought that was how you got the cherry flavor! Carly. Do I have lipstick on right now?”
“Not exactly.” Well, that doesn’t make me feel better.
“Carly.”
“Lip. Tint. Lip tint, James. It’s different. I promise.”
“Different as in…”
“Well, it won’t last as long… I don’t think.”
“You don’t think.”
“Well, no, it doesn’t last as long for me.”
“Okay, so how do you get the cherry flavor?” I’m not really sure why I’m so stuck on the cherry flavor, but I really am baffled by that.
“I use the black-cherry-flavored lip balm.”
“And that’s not what I used?”
She shakes her head, still giggling.
I walk over to her, lift up her left hand, and look at the back of it. Sure enough, there’s two lip prints from where I kissed her. I figure, why not add more? So I kiss her all over her face. “Is it gone?”
She’s wiping at her face and smiling as she shakes her head no.
I smear my lips back and forth over her cheek. She starts giggling and trying to push me away, but my arms are wrapped tightly around her.
“James!” she says, laughing as I pull away. She instantly continues trying to wipe away the remnants of the lip tint with her hand.
“That’s what you get,” I say, smiling.
“You’re so annoying,” she feigns, the twinkle of happiness still in her eyes.
“You love it,” I tell her to which she rolls her eyes.
I give her one more kiss, this time much deeper.
“Dude!” I hear Grady exclaim and turn my head to see him covering Harper’s eyes with his palm, his other hand in front of his own.
Tess and Barrett are staring at us, a soft smile on my sister’s face and a cheesy grin on Barrett’s.
Maggie is watching us closely, a wistful look on her face.
“You guys kiss a lot,” is all Harper says.
“Get used to it, baby girl,” I tell her, and she starts fake gagging. I grab hold of her and squeeze her close while starting to tickle her.
“Uncle James! Stop! Oh please… ahh… stop!” she squeals through hysterics.
“Keep going?”
“No-o-o!!! Ahh! Uncle James!”
“Who’s your favorite uncle ever in the whole wide world and universe including Pluto?”
“Umm…” the little turd draws out.
I start tickling her more.
“You! You are!”
“I’m… what?”
“You’re my favorite uncle ever in the whole wide world and universe including Pluto!”
“Of course I am.” I smile and release her.
“But you still wore makeup tonight,” the smartass says.
“I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Not a chance,” Barrett says. “Now, who’s hungry?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Carly
“Hey, I have the enchiladas done!” James calls out from the kitchen, not realizing I am already in it. “Want to grab the drinks?”
He came over to celebrate New Year’s Eve with me. Jack has gone over to the Ryan’s house. Even though it’s only been a week, it still feels like we’re moving at lightning speed. Yet it doesn’t feel too fast. Because, according to all our friends and family, we had basically been dating for weeks leading up to the night at El Charro. Since our technical first date at The Shore and gun range, we haven’t been apart, but tonight is the first time since that we’ve been alone. And we weren’t really alone at any point during our date. To me, him being in my home and not having the distraction of other people around, feels like so much more.
“Sure!” I call out, and he turns around quickly, laughing. The fast movement causes him to bump into me since I am already standing so close to him, nearly causing him to drop the bowl of salsa he is holding.
“I’m sorry! So sorry, James. I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry,” I repeat over and over again.
He sets the salsa on the counter next to him and gives me an odd, yet knowing, look.
“What?”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Why? Because I turned around and bumped into you?”
I shrug my shoulders, and he immediately walks over and stands in front of me. “Carly. Babe. That wasn’t your fault. And if it was? I wouldn’t have been upset. Know this, okay? Accidents happen.”
When I don’t respond, he gives me an expectant look. I finally nod my head and give him a small smile, feeling relieved. One day I will move completely past it. One day.
He offers me a blinding smile in return. “Hungry?”
“Yeah, starved,” I say, thankful that he has moved on and doesn’t ask more questions.
He makes his way to the oven, removes the enchiladas, and then places the pan on a trivet he’d set on his kitchen table. I watch as his black V-neck t-shirt shifts with him. I can see the tattoos that wrap around his right bicep, flowing down his arm, ending just above his elbow.
I’m so mesmerized by the sight of his arms that I forget what I was tasked with. Who knows how long I’ve been standing there, staring at him like a creepy creeper when I finally manage to drag my eyes from the offending (but not offensive in the least) appendage and up to his face. His eyes are trained on me, a heat in his that spreads over my entire body, making it feel like it is lit up in flames.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he winks so slowly it makes me wonder if life is moving in slow motion. It isn’t cocky; it isn’t sleazy. It’s James, and it’s perfect. That simple wink makes my stomach flutter, and I have to reach out my hand to grip the back of the kitchen chair to steady myself.
He slowly makes his way over to where I’m standing and reaches out a hand. I take a deep breath as the back of his hand grazes my temple. His fingers make a trail down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder, down my arm until his pinky is laced with mine. His other hand reaches up and, with what feels like a move straight out of a book, tucks a piece of hair behind my ear then circles his hand around my neck. He leans in, and my eyes flutter closed. Two minutes ago, I was about to come out of my skin from nerves because of my past. Now I am about to come out of my skin for a whole different reason. James Cole makes me feel like a Yo-Yo being pulled on a string and spinning in circles.
His nose skims mine, moving slowly over my cheek until his face is buried in my neck. He inhales, causing goose bumps to come to life over my entire body. I take a shuddering breath before he moves, and soon his lips are on mine. Hot, demanding.
His movements just moments ago were slow, calculated.
Now he’s all passion.
The hand on my neck squeezes once, twice, then puts just enough pressure so that he can tilt my mouth to meet his the way he apparently wants. The way we both need.
The hand that was once only holding my pinky now has my hand pinned behind my back with his still laced through. A brief moment of panic hits before I remember who is holding me.
The kiss deepens, our tongues dancing
and demanding of each other. I moan so quietly I am positive he didn’t hear. I pray he didn’t hear. But James, being James, so in tune with me, so perceptive, hears it and jumps on it. The second the moan escapes my lips I know I am in this more than I have been letting on, and somehow James knows it too. It’s as if that tiny little noise emitting from the back of my throat is the go-ahead we both need. The noise that I can no longer control, can no longer hold back, triggers a lust so deep inside both of us that we don’t have any semblance of control anymore.
He moves his hands and lifts me so my legs wrap around his waist. Suddenly, we’re on the move, my entire body feeling like it will take flight if he doesn’t have a good hold of me. My back hits the refrigerator, his strong body presses against mine, rough and demanding. No longer am I ready to take flight. The shift is like a bucket of ice water being dumped right on me.
I tear my mouth from his, hitting my head on the fridge door, but the pain in my head is nothing compared to the panic that hit the moment he pressed me against that surface. Memories come screeching to a halt in the front of my mind, not being able to control the waves of nervousness rolling off me.
“Carly?” James asks, concern evident as he gently lets my body slide down and takes a tentative step backward.
I look down at my hands that are now twisting together in front of my stomach. I know he has to be confused. And turned on. I felt how turned on he is. It only fueled my own desire. Until it didn’t.
He reaches up and carefully takes my chin between his fingers and thumb and lifts so that we’re looking into each other’s eyes. The unshed tears are now on full display.
I feel so stupid.
So ridiculous.
So furious.
When will I ever overcome my past?
“Hey,” he says, his voice so full of kindness as he pulls me into him and wraps his strong arms around me, the most patient man on the planet. Letting me get through my freak-out, he holds me as I quietly cry on his shoulder, my arms encircling his waist. He kisses the top of my head as the tears start to slow and my breaths even out.
“Wanna talk about what just happened?”
“Not really,” I joke.
His bright blue eyes look between my own chocolate ones, softening when he sees the tears continue to develop. “That’s fine. I’m not going to push.”
A Better Place Page 21
