Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  They both look at each other for an extended minute before Carter pulls the cap off the fat green marker and puts an X under my name for Monday. “We’ll have meatless Mondays. How does that sound to you, Derek?”

  “Sounds great to me. I love vegetarian food. Man, what I wouldn’t give for some of Uva’s vegan gnocchi right now. That creamy lemon, garlic butter sauce is to die for.”

  Carter marks an X on Wednesday and Saturday for himself.

  “Wait. Why do you get to choose two in a row?” I reach across the table and swipe my thumb through his Wednesday mark, completely erasing it from existence. “I thought this was a democratic splitting of chores.”

  Derek bursts out laughing, but not at me. He points at Carter with one hand and high-fives me with the other. “Thank you, Teddy, for calling him out on his shit. It doesn’t happen often, but I’m always thrilled when I get to witness it.”

  “All right, all right. This is a fair process,” Carter concedes, handing me the marker. “Here, choose your day since I assigned the other one to you.”

  I take it from his hand, ignoring the burst of electricity that shoots up my arm when our fingers touch. I tap the end of the pen on the table as I think. “I don’t want two nights in a row, but if I go too far out, that still makes it too many healthy meals close to each other. Hmmm.” I circle the tip of the marker over Wednesday, debating on whether or not to take it from him. On a whim, I quickly draw my X on Thursday, making it thick and bold.

  Carter’s mouth falls open. “Why didn’t you take Wednesday? What was all that fuss about then?”

  I ignore his incredulous squawking and slide toward Derek. He stands to let me pass by and out of the seating area.

  I approach Carter from behind and run my hands over his broad shoulders and down his thick biceps, teasing him. “Darling, Carter,” I speak softly in his ear, but loud enough for Derek to hear. My lips graze the tender flesh of his lobe as I speak, “Most women don’t like their decisions made for them. You took away my choice when you gave me Meatless Monday and then again when you chose two days in a row for yourself. This may be your RV and your vacation while I’m a simple hitchhiker on this journey, but it’s still my life, my time, and my body.”

  I walk down the hallway and into my room but whistle for Molly to come before I shut the door. I have to get him out of my sight before my brain lets me do something I’ll regret.

  Day 14

  New Orleans. Yes, I’m saying it in my mind with a long Cajun drawl to it—Nawlens is how it sounds bouncing around in this thick skull. The Big Easy…or the Crescent City. By either name, I love it. We’ve been here for no less than four hours, and the electricity pulsing in its air hums through me. I’m shaking with uncontrolled excitement. The music, the atmosphere, the French Quarter and Jackson Square...I’ve had a full experience, and it’s only been one day. There are ten more things on my list to do tomorrow. For as much as I’d like to stay here longer, I’d like to make it to the Pacific Ocean at some point.

  I will say one thing though—damn, it’s fucking hot here. This is the kind of heat that steals your breath from you. But then again, maybe it’s Teddy in that tank top and those shorty shorts she’s wearing. Temptation is an evil thing sometimes, especially when it comes in the form of powdered sugar on soft lips at the Café du Monde eating beignets. We’re sitting here waiting for our walking tour to begin, and damn, she’s beautiful when she’s messy. She wipes her dusty hands across the ass of her shorts, and that faded handprint is going to tease me for the rest of the day.

  Derek seems to love it here too. He takes a picture of something or someone every few inches. I’m amazed we’ve seen as much as we have already. This city is amazing, and this tour guide, Luis, is said to be the best. I wonder if he gives other tours for the rest of the city or just the French Quarter. Guess we’ll find out when this one is over.

  11

  Carter

  I think I might die of blue balls long before this brain tumor does me in. It’s been a few days, and there’s no relief in sight. Yesterday I sported a hard-on all day as I walked around behind Teddy. And when she whispered the word “darling” in my ear the night we divvied up chores, I thought I was going to bust a hole in the crotch of my khakis. I’m pretty sure death by blue balls is a thing.

  Add to that my longing to pull her into my arms and show her how a real man treats his woman after hearing about how Richie made her eat all alone—I’m a goner. But then I remind myself that I’m still on karma recovery from my previous Carter 1.0 life, so I decide to leave it alone. I’m more fucked up than she is. If she knew about my past, she wouldn’t have stepped inside this bus.

  Teddy is the purest form of temptation to a recovering womanizer and an all out chauvinist pig.

  I wonder how she’d take me demanding that she erase him from her thoughts completely—like he was never there and doesn’t exist beyond Nashville.

  Today, all I can do is lie here. My head is fucked up, and the pills aren’t helping. I feel really fucking old right now. My hands are trembling so damn badly, I can’t even text Derek to bring me some water. I crawl out of bed to the bathroom and get it myself.

  Derek lowers the newspaper he’s reading when he hears my door open and looks directly at my drawn and tired face. The drop of his shoulders tells me he knows it’s a bad day. He’ll take care of everything. I won’t have to worry about a thing. Derek always has my back.

  Molly follows me back into my room and lies on the bed, curling into me. “What a good girl you are.” I pet her in long, even strokes, and she rolls sideways to give me more access to her belly. “You knew I didn’t feel good, and I didn’t have to say a word. You instinctually honed-in on it and came to share the love. Good girl.”

  We both fall asleep, snuggled up in the blankets.

  I wake up to the deep bass of Black Velvet thumping through the RV. It’s coming from the kitchen with a sweet melodic voice humming along. The door to my room is slightly ajar, and Molly is missing. My headache is gone, for now, anyway.

  I hate missing whole days sleeping, but lately it’s becoming more and more the norm for me. I roll over and sit up, feeling slightly nauseous and woozy from the sudden movement. I need to eat. Guess it’s time to go out and join the world today.

  The man in the mirror staring back at me is frighteningly pale. A smudge of darkness colors the skin under my eyes, but it blends in well though with the five o’clock shadow spreading across my jawline. It’s time to feed this ugly ass mug.

  I slide the door back into the wall just in time for the second chorus. Teddy stands at the stove, drizzling olive oil into a pan. Her torn jeans hang low on her waist, showing just a hint of her flat belly as she moves. The curve of her ass and hips tease me. I want to touch her so fucking badly, but knowing Teddy she’ll take my head off with one swift punch.

  She pushes a mound of chopped vegetables into the pan from the cutting board and picks up a wooden spoon to stir it with but uses it as a microphone instead. Her raw, gritty voice scrubs my soul clean.

  My knees buckle slightly with the emotion pouring from her during the final notes. It must be one of her favorites, because she starts dancing around lost in the music. The chorus fades into the final verses of the song, and she goes back to humming it until it ends.

  I lean against the wall and clap proudly, startling her. She quickly turns away from me, placing the knife and cutting board in the sink and goes through the motions of washing and drying them.

  I take a seat at the table and lean back against the wall. “Do you only give solo concerts or is this a special occasion?” Silence passes between us. Her back is straight as a board, but her hands clench the kitchen towel tightly. “C’mon, Teddy. Talk to me. I don’t bite. We can be friends. I promise.”

  She finishes drying the cutting board and places it in the cabinet. Her back is still turned to me.

  “Teddy,” I say softly.

  I get up and stand beside her.
Her breath shudders as I stroke her cheek with my fingers and turn her face to me. She refuses to look at me, focusing on an unknown spot on the wall behind me. “I know he hurt you. I don’t know for how long or how deep the scars go, but I want you to know you’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You can stay with me as long as you want.”

  Her green eyes darken when she finally looks into my eyes. “You’ll change your mind as soon as you get to know me. I always manage to screw things up.” She turns and stirs the veggies, bumping me so that her back is facing me again.

  “Stop it. OK?” I take a seat at the table again. “I’m not easy to know either, just ask Derek. I can be an asshole. Everyone can be given the right circumstances. I judge people on how they treat me over time, because moments are just that…a small place in time, and each has its own special circumstances surrounding it. A good moment to you may be exceptionally bad to me. Everyone deserves to be given a chance or as many chances as it takes for others to see the good inside. Just because one person, or a set of people, didn’t like you doesn’t mean others won’t find you amazing and talented. Just like they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I just happen to think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She places the lid on the pan and turns down the flame before turning to face me. “I know who you are, Carter George,” she says, clenching her hands at her sides, completely ignoring my feeble attempt at being sweet. “You take down the lives and vitality of those around you, like a common criminal. You’re a monster. Will the real ruthless New York real estate billionaire please stand up?”

  I drop my head into my hands and rub my fingers in circles over my temples. My headache is returning in full force. I fucking hate Page Six and Google.

  The door opens, and Derek walks in with grocery bags hanging from his arms. He sets them down on the counter and starts to empty them, whistling a tune. I don’t feel like socializing anymore, so I stand. Teddy is staring at me. sadness flickers in her eyes as I rise.

  “Like I said, everyone deserves a chance to show their goodness.” I head back into my room and pull the door shut. Derek calls after me, but I ignore him.

  I skip eating. I’m not feeling it anymore. Instead, I lie in bed, my eyes focused on the ceiling.

  Will I only be remembered as Carter George, the rich asshole who ruined more lives than he saved?

  The idea makes my guts churn. I know deep in my heart though that if I hadn’t been diagnosed with impending death, I would’ve never changed. Maybe I really was a monster. Doing a few nice things doesn’t change a man. It just makes the man more wicked, because really, who tears the world apart then tries to brighten it with a few good deeds? That’s like putting a band-aid on a self-inflicted knife wound. What good is that?

  Maybe it’s too little too late.

  A soft knock pulls me from my morose thoughts. I don’t even bother acknowledging it.

  “Hey,” Teddy’s soft voice wafts to me.

  My treacherous heart kicks up at the sound of her voice, but I don’t look at her, wondering if maybe she’ll just leave me to my self-loathing in peace. The depression that has set over me today is real.

  My bed sinks down as she lies beside me, taking my same position with her hands resting on her stomach and her eyes focused on the ceiling. I imagine it’s how I’ll look stuffed into my casket in a few months. May as well start practicing now.

  “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” her voice is timid, very unlike the person she is.

  “You weren’t wrong.” I continue to stare at the ceiling.

  “I was, though,” she persists, rolling to her side, all her dark hair spilling around her. She leans forward so her face is partially obstructing my view of the ceiling. Her hair tickles my chin. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know you.”

  Tearing my eyes from the ceiling, I lock them on her wavering green ones. Such beautiful eyes. She keeps so much hidden inside, but those eyes. . . they tell a story. On instinct, I reach up and cup her cheek in my hand, my eyes searching her face. My thumb rubs a soft circle on her cheek. Her lips part as she stares back at me.

  “Bad always overshadows the good,” I whisper. “I am a monster. I’m only trying to be a better one, but maybe it’s too late for all that now.”

  “It’s not,” she murmurs, a plea in her voice, her fingers splaying across my chest. The touch is electric. My heart rate kicks up. “Derek told me about what you did for Luke.”

  “One good deed doesn’t change a man,” I say sadly, unable to pull my touch from her.

  “One good deed is a start, though. And I admire that.” She grows quiet, her eyes darting to my lips. A faint flush paints her cheeks before she speaks again, “I’m a monster too. And one monster shouldn’t judge another. Trust me when I say that I screw up and disappoint people more than I make them happy.”

  “Are you proposing monster solidarity?” I raise an eyebrow at her. A beautiful smile that lights up my entirely too dark fucking world spills across her lips.

  “Strength in numbers, right?” She leans into me, her breath catching as my thumb moves to brush against her bottom lip.

  This is your chance! Take it, Carter! You only have so many left! The moment is screaming at me. My heart somersaults in my chest like an unsteady gymnast.

  Reality slaps me in the face with its giant, veiny dick.

  I’m a dead man. No woman would want a dead man. What? I’d love her for a moment before leaving her broken?

  Nah. I spent my life breaking women. That’s not how this will go down. Not this time.

  My hand falls from her face, breaking whatever spell we’re under, and I sit up, breathing hard over what I’d almost done. What I so fucking desperately wanted to do. If this was a different life, I’d have loved that girl so hard.

  But it isn’t a different life. It’s a half-life. What’s left of my life.

  And I’m not dragging anyone down with me.

  12

  Teddy

  I almost kissed Carter. If he wouldn’t have pulled away from me, I know I would’ve. Something about him just reels me in. I can’t shake him. Even after our first meeting, he was all I could think about.

  Something’s up with him though. I spend the better half of the morning Googling his name only to come up with information on how ruthless he is and how many women he’s been through. Other than that there’s nothing. No known long-term romantic relationships. No reasons for his sudden departure from his company, which is making headlines around the world. Nothing. Carter George is an enigma.

  I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my shorts, blowing out a shaky breath. The moment with Carter in his bedroom is still with me, making my heart hammer in my chest. I’ve never responded to a man like that before. No man has ever made my heart simultaneously skip a beat and rush to beat faster all at once. Literally a race to see which would kill me first.

  “Carter come out of his cave yet?” Derek asks, popping his head into the living area of the Beastmaster.

  “Oh. Uh, no. He said he needed a nap, so I left him with Molly.” I glance at the closed door, my heart yearning for his touch again. Jesus. That’s a new feeling.

  “Yeah, he likes to nap sometimes.” Derek’s eyes shift around the room before he clears his throat. “Do you want to go for a walk and explore a bit?”

  “That sounds good.”

  I’m on my feet, ready to get out of there before I bum rush Carter’s room and straddle him, demanding he touch me again. The thought sends heat flooding between my legs, and I duck my head to keep from showcasing any of my dirty thoughts which are probably clearly written on my face.

  Derek takes no notice and moves aside so I can step past him onto the pavement. He locks the door and nods for me to follow him.

  He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks, “You should know that Carter really is a good guy. Even with all the shit people say about him in the tabloids and news, deep do
wn in his soul, he’s a good man.”

  “I was out of line. I apologized to him,” I say.

  “Good.”

  We’re quiet as we walk, me taking in all the beauty that is New Orleans—the vibrant colors, the smell of all the food, the laughter as people chat with one another outside the storefronts. We veer off and walk through City Park. It’s peaceful, something I need after my morning with Carter. My heart yearns for him to be here with me, walking through the park, his hand in mine, that sexy growly voice of his in my ear—

  Whoa. Teddy, girl, check yourself!

  I flush again at my rampant thoughts and clear my throat.

  “So, what’s the deal with Carter?”

  “Deal?” Derek turns his brown-eyed gaze on me.

  “Yeah, why does a billionaire suddenly walk out on his company and go across country on a road trip, helping out the hordes of unfortunate?”

  Derek stuffs his hands into his pockets, seemingly contemplating his answer.

  “He just needed a break. He’s been stressed. Doc told him to take some time away and relax,” his words come out in a guilty rush. “That’s all.”

  “A woman didn’t break his heart?” I press. Maybe he kept his serious relationships quiet.

  Derek lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

  “No woman has ever been close enough to Carter to break his heart, except maybe his mom.” Derek grimaces, casting a quick look at me about his apparent overshare.

  “Don’t tell Carter I said anything, OK? He’s a private guy. And he’s a royal pain in my ass when he’s pissed.”

  “My lips are sealed,” I promise, mocking a zipper over my lip that makes Derek grin. “He’s just doing this road trip to de-stress then?”