by Joya Ryan
Was he, though? A good man?
Maybe he should put a stop to this now. Before he got in any deeper. But the one part of him that knew it was good couldn’t walk away now. Not when Carrie needed him. He’d eat this ache, swallow it whole, if that was what she needed.
There was a loud noise in the background, and Lane muttered a curse. “Fuck, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back. Just keep her safe. Don’t let her cry her eyes out or get depressed. And don’t leave her alone with Kevin. That prick manipulates her like you wouldn’t believe. Whatever it takes, keep her happy.”
Lane clicked the phone off and Blake muttered his own curse.
Those were his thoughts exactly.
Chapter Eleven
Carrie wasn’t sure how she imagined the perfect proposal, but this was already light years ahead of what Kevin had done. That proposal hadn’t even been a proposal. He’d told her they should get married and then taken her to pick out a ring. There’d been no romance, no mystery, no excitement. Heck, he hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to get married.
Of course, she hadn’t asked herself, either. She’d just gone after the fantasy, one step after the next.
And now Blake was going to propose to her at the final party on their last day on the island. In front of everyone. Kevin and Wendy would be there. Blake apparently had the details covered and wasn’t telling Carrie much. Fake proposal or not, he still wanted it to be a surprise. Sweet man.
Yeah, maybe she wasn’t sure what her perfect proposal would look like, but if it felt like this, she’d be the happiest woman on earth.
The only part that felt more real than fake this whole trip was earlier in the chopper.
He had opened up to her, and she truly loved him for that. That word swirled in her mind hard and fast. Love.
Did she love Blake?
Yes.
It was the easiest answer she’d ever come up with. She’d known him forever, maybe loved him the whole time. But this past week had taken everything she knew to be true about him to the next level. She would have been lost without him. And now, her heart was healing and her confidence was restoring.
And then the news of Kevin’s engagement…
She had to take a sore breath on that painful news. Yet Blake still had a plan. Was still taking his mission of keeping her in the fantasy very seriously.
But she needed to show him she wasn’t a weak thing that needed saving. She could handle herself. She needed him to believe that. She needed to believe it about herself.
Now she and Blake were at dinner, for once free of Kevin and Wendy. Instead, they had the sounds of the beach, a delicious table of food, and the bright promise of the fake engagement that would show Kevin once and for all what he’d given up.
“So, you can fly helicopters, track moose, and catch fish with your bare hands. Anything else I should know about you, Mr. MacGyver?”
He smiled and took a bite of his steak.
“Typically, I use a fly pole to catch fish, but other than that, that’s pretty much it about me. I want to know about you,” he said. “Other than your love of pink, impeccable patience, and sexy freckles, what do I need to know?”
She blushed. Blake could do that to her.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“I wish you would,” he said.
“I want to own my own business,” she admitted.
Blake’s eyes shot up, and she was backtracking quick. She knew this was a dumb idea.
“Never mind—”
“No, tell me more,” he said, and he looked genuinely interested. This felt like a real conversation, too, so she’d take it.
“Well, it’s silly, because I’m not exactly sure what I’d call it, but basically I love making things feel like a home. That’s why I’ve worked at the gallery. Not because I’m some art-crazed maniac, but I think about each person when they come in and what kind of piece they want to walk out with and put in their house. I want them to have the piece that makes that house feel like their home.”
“Like an interior designer?” he asked.
“Kind of,” she said. “Yes, actually. I never thought of it that way.” Kevin always told her she lacked vision and the creative skills it took to create anything. “I just want to make spaces beautiful.”
Blake nodded. “I think you’d be amazing at that.”
“And I hoped that my own business could allow for flexibility with having a family.”
Blake glanced down. Crap. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Granted, it wasn’t a secret. She wanted to be married, have babies, have a career. She wanted all of it. But she loved kids, loved love, and wanted to feel it every day. Wanted to give it every day.
“That sounds like a good plan,” he said, but he didn’t look at her this time. “You’d be amazing at creating a home, for anyone, especially yourself and future family.”
A sad smile broke her face. She was happy he was supportive, but sad because it seemed too far off. Blake was sitting right next to her, but they were so far apart. Different people with different wants, needs. She knew it. But this glimmer of hope stuck in her chest. That same glimmer that came in every time he looked at her like she was something special.
“This relationship, fake or not, it’s been fun. We can be anything. And we have been.”
“Very true,” he said with a smile. “So, since we can pretend to be anything, what should we be today, my love?”
He said it with a hint of sarcasm, but the words stuck to her stomach like syrup.
My love.
The endearment made her eyes sting, and she so badly wanted it to be real. Held on to a shred of hope that maybe he’d meant it. Even if it was a slip.
Maybe once this trip was over, she’d ask him to see her again in Colorado. Maybe a hint of what she felt between them could be resurrected. If he didn’t want a relationship, she could pretend to be his friend. If continuing to pretend meant he treated her like this, made her feel like this…
Maybe.
“Well, let’s see.” She tapped her chin and smiled to the sky. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I appreciate all your support with me being a recovering nymphomaniac,” she said.
He laughed. “Oh, it’s been my pleasure to assist you with that.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertip. “Honey, did I tell you how much I love what you did with the kitchen?”
She smiled at this new game, him pretending that they were back on the mainland, living together, and he loved how she’d decorated their home. The thought of him putting her dream into a fantasy world where they shared a kitchen made her heart beat harder.
“Oh you like it?”
“I said love it.”
She beamed with a smile. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about the farmhouse chic approach I took.”
“Oh, farmhouse chic is exactly what I love,” he said.
“Rustic, manly, yet a soft touch of warmth,” she agreed.
“And what do you have planned for the bedroom?” he asked in his own rustic tone.
She leaned in, loving her imagination taking over of what a life, a home, a relationship with Blake would feel like. And she’d play the hell out of this right now. Because all these thoughts were beyond nice.
“Well, I was going back and forth between a four-post bed and something with a larger headboard.”
“Mmmm,” he said lowly, then brought her knuckles to his mouth and kissed them. “I’ve grown to be a fan of the headboard, especially when we get it rocking against the wall.”
She shivered. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Well you’re the best home designer I know, little girl. Clearly you’re tapping into your client’s needs.”
“You decorate?” came a voice behind them. It was Eve, walking up with a happy smile. She was so nice, and with her cute toddler daughter in tow, they were as picture perfect a family as they’d been when Carrie had met them a couple days ago. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I saw you and wa
nted to say hi, and I couldn’t help but overhear.”
Carrie smiled back, almost embarrassed. Eve had caught her and Blake playing pretend, and now she had to get herself out of it without sounding like she’d lost her mind.
“No, I don’t decorate exactly,” Carrie said.
“Oh, you’re being modest,” Blake said, grabbing her leg under the table. “She’s incredible,” he told Eve. “She has this way of making every room in the house feel like its own mini home.”
“Wow,” Eve said. “That’s wonderful. And you’re so supportive.” She smiled at Blake. “Waylon won’t let me touch a single room in the house,” she whispered with a smile.
“That’s because you’re color blind, honey,” Waylon said from behind her. “And last time we painted Lidia’s room, she cried because it looked like fire.”
They both laughed, Waylon bouncing their baby boy in his arms.
“So you’ve done all the rooms in your house?” Eve asked, and Carrie glanced at Blake.
“She’s creative and just has a knack for making every room feel like home…because she is my home,” Blake said.
Carrie raised a brow, but Blake was looking right at her. The man was good. Too good. Even Carrie could almost believe he meant it.
“So have you decorated a nursery?” Eve asked with a smile.
It was time Carrie got in on the fantasy. Because she’d thought about this. About being married and having a nursery to decorate. She even had sketches. Of course, she’d stopped sketching after meeting Kevin and he’d told her they were crap. But right then, she didn’t feel anything but hopeful.
“Yes, um…” Carrie let all the images she’d thought of once come back to her. “Soft yellows, so that in the summer the room looks bright, and in the fall it looks relaxing. White built-in shelves and a dark oak wood rocking chair in the corner.”
“Sounds so beautiful,” Eve said.
“It is,” Carrie said softly. She had wanted to try for kids soon after getting married, but she didn’t even have a fiancé anymore, much less a husband, much less the future that she always wanted.
She was explaining her fantasy to a stranger, and she was sitting next to a man she saw herself falling in love with. Had been falling in love with this whole time.
Face it, Carrie. You’re screwed.
“Well I’ll need to get your number before you leave, because I need some help decorating. We live in Casper, Wyoming, so I don’t know if you travel for work?”
“That’s only three and a half hours from Denver,” Blake said. “That’s where she’s stationed. I bet she could make it work.” He winked at her. The support so clear in his face she wanted to jump for joy and hug him close. Blake had shown her more faith and support in the past week than Kevin ever had in the entire time she’d known him.
Before Carrie could say anything, Eve smiled and hugged her. “Great! We’ll let you get back to dinner, but I can’t wait to see you!”
Carrie looked at Blake when they were out of earshot. “You didn’t have to do that. She’s not Kevin. We could have told her the truth.”
“I told her who you really are and who you want to be. That’s its own kind of truth, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Carrie, you’ve thought about this dream of yours for a while. Clearly you know what you’re doing.”
“How would you know?” she asked.
“Because I know you. And I know you make everything more beautiful when you’re in, around, or near it.”
Her heart fluttered. “But I’m not a designer.”
“Not yet,” he said with a wink. “There’s no reason you can’t be what you want to be.”
“So, you realize you just crossed a line from fantasy to reality?” she asked.
He just looked at her. “Let’s not start counting all the lines we’ve crossed.”
With that, she forked a piece of food from her plate and took a bite. Happy for the future and the hope and chance she was getting with both Blake and a new career path. It was amazing what a little support did for the soul.
Chapter Twelve
“Today was really nice,” Carrie said, looking at Blake through the bathroom mirror. She stood there, in a robe, unfastening her earring and smiling at him through the reflection.
He was leaning against the doorway, watching.
He couldn’t get over how lovely she was.
“Today was nice,” he agreed.
She unfastened her other earring. He could watch her do anything as long as she stayed in that slightly open silky robe.
This was why he loved mirrors so much. He could stand behind her with a prime view of her perfect ass and still see all of her beauty in the front.
Her brown eyes fastened on his through the mirror.
“Will you take your shirt off?” she asked.
He tilted his head and grinned. “Ah, sure.” He reached behind his neck and pulled it over his shoulders and off. “That was a random request.”
She sighed and twirled a lock of her hair, staring at his chest through the reflection.
“I just like looking at you. Besides, why have a shirt on when you could not?”
“Fantastic point,” he said, now staring down her robe, and judging by those pert nipples peeking out against the fabric, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.
“Maybe you could take your pants off, too?” she asked, still not turning to face him, but continuing to stare. Which he loved. He’d show her anything she wanted, and he was one request away from giving up a hell of a lot more than his clothes. With her looking at him like that, wearing only a robe, he’d give her a pony if she asked.
He unsnapped his jeans and kicked them away. Standing there in his boxers, he looked at the angel glowing in soft light, and he lifted his chin.
“I told you once that I’m a retaliator,” he said. “Your turn to strip.”
She swallowed hard. Her delicate throat bobbed as she kept her back to him, but her eyes locked on his face through the reflection. She slowly untied the belt of the robe and peeled the silk open.
Blake tripped over his breath.
Her skin had little tan lines from where her bathing suit straps had been, and as she pulled the silk down, he saw every inch of her perfect body, back and front. Finally, when the robe dropped to the floor, he stared at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was naked. And she was his.
Mine.
Mine? Where did that come from?
He didn’t know or care to think it through. He just needed her.
“You are perfection,” he said, his chest hurting just from looking at her and the hard proof of how sexy she was.
“I was thinking the same about you,” she whispered. “Can I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“What’s your favorite position?” She blushed and glanced down at the counter quickly. “Earlier you said your favorite sexual position was one we haven’t tried… What is it?”
Blake took a deep breath and tried to tamp down his excitement. “How about I show you?”
She nodded eagerly, all that wild hair swaying around her head like a halo.
“Stay just like that,” he said, and closed the few steps across the tile floor to her, ridding himself of his boxers as he went. He loved how her eyes got big, then heavy when she looked at his cock in the mirror. Then he really enjoyed how she licked her lips.
He came up behind her and pressed his entire naked chest to her back. He had so many plans for this gorgeous body of hers, but the one thing overwhelming him was the need to touch her first. To really, really feel her.
He slowly wrapped one arm under her breasts, the other around her lower stomach, and enfolded her in his embrace.
…
A sting pricked behind Carries eyes as she watched the strongest man she’d ever known wrap his arms around her from behind and hug her. When he buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she felt his hot s
kin against hers, she placed her hands on his forearms and clung to him.
The words were right there. On the tip of her tongue.
She wanted to utter them. The feelings she felt welling up.
Blake made her feel cherished. Respected. Delicate.
Loved.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them and saw their reflection, she was so happy at what she saw. They looked right together.
She turned just enough to kiss his temple. He lifted his head and met her mouth with his.
He kissed her softly as he trailed his hands along her skin. One up to cup her breast and the other down to tease between her legs.
“Look,” he whispered, kissing her neck while pinching her nipple. “See how beautiful you are? See what I love to do to you?”
He massaged her heavy breast and dipped his other finger inside of her. She gave herself to him, let him do what he wanted, and she watched. Watched his biceps flex as he touched her, felt her, inside and out. Watched his head roam up and down along her neck.
His hands slowly slid down and around to cup her ass, and he hit his knees behind her. He lifted her leg and placed her bent knee on the counter, spreading her wide.
“I dream of your taste every time I look at a pineapple now. All I can think of is this pretty pussy,” he whispered against her hot flesh.
He snaked his tongue over he clit and she jerked forward.
“Watch, my love,” he said, and there was that endearment again. In the mirror, she saw her breasts bob slightly as Blake entered a finger inside of her, then another finger, and began pumping.
“Oh God,” she said, keeping her eyes on the mirror like he’d said. Her whole body subtly rocking with his movements. He licked at her again, flicking his tongue fast over her most sensitive spot. Already, she was on the brink.
With her palms flat on the counter, she held herself up and readied her body for the fiery orgasm that was climbing up her spine.
But Blake stopped and rose to his feet.
Smiling at her through the mirror, he leaned into her and grabbed her hip in one meaty hand.
“You ready for my favorite position?” he asked.
“Yes,” she begged.
