Inevitable: Carter Kids #5

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Inevitable: Carter Kids #5 Page 33

by Chloe Walsh


  "So, I have to ask," I announced an hour or so later, when I had consumed half a dozen beers and had our poorly proportioned cake placed in the oven. "How are you affording this place?"

  Hunter looked up from where he had been washing the utensils we had used during the baking process in the sink. "What are you insinuating, HC?" His tone was light and full of humor, but I still felt heat flood my face.

  "I was just wondering how a guy like you could afford –" I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified. "I didn’t mean it like that."

  "A guy like me," he mused humorously. He shook off a suds-covered plate and placed it on the draining board before turning to face me. "God, you know how to compliment a man."

  "I am so sorry."

  "Nah, it's cool." He walked over to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer.

  Uncapping both, he handed me what I thought must be my seventh bottle of the evening before taking a deep swig from his own.

  "I'm not poor, Hope," he finally said. "Don’t know where you got the idea that I was."

  "The orange jumpsuit might have had something to do with it," I offered and immediately regretted it. "Fuck."

  Hunter threw his head back and laughed freely. "Yeah. Maybe."

  "I'm sorry. I really shouldn’t drink," I replied. "Seriously. I'm a lightweight." I raised my bottle and said, "A few of these and I'm already way past tipsy," I muttered, feeling like such a tool. How blunt could I get? I swallowed a huge mouthful of beer before adding, "I shouldn’t have pried."

  "Feel free to pry on me," he shot back with a wink. "You're the only one who has permission." He took another swig before adding, "Come on, HC. Ask your questions. I know you have them." Grinning, he added, "I'm an open book."

  "Okay." Taking another slug from my beer bottle, I mustered up the courage to ask, "Where'd you get the cash to afford a place like this?"

  Hunter leaned against the counter and met my gaze head on. "I inherited it."

  "The apartment or the money?"

  "The money."

  I drank the contents of my beer bottle before asking, "Legally?"

  Hunter smiled fondly. "Yes, Hope. It's totally legit and above board."

  "So, did the money come from a relative?"

  He nodded. "It did."

  "Who?" We had never spoken about his family before now.

  It wasn’t something Hunter had ever brought into conversation before tonight, and in all honesty, it hadn't occurred to me. Not with all the Teagan and Noah drama that had been going on.

  Hunter walked back to the refrigerator and grabbed another two beers.

  "My parents," he confirmed before handing me one. "Contrary to popular belief, this broke-ass felon isn't so broke."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you're not the only kid with a rich ass daddy – whose entire life's work was willed to his first-born son."

  "For real?"

  He nodded. "Obviously, it's not a chain of hotels or anything so glamorous, but I'll be financially okay for a few years. And Mom left me the house back home in Gunnison, which I recently sold. My time in that town is over. Bought this place instead so at least I'd have a place to hang my head when I need it."

  "Both of your parents are dead?"

  He nodded.

  Oh fuck.

  Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck…

  His parents were dead and I was a nosey bitch.

  "I’m so sorry," I whispered, mortified.

  "It's okay, Hope," he replied, tone soothing. "They died a long time ago, sweetheart."

  How was it that he was the one comforting me?

  "How did they, you know…" I let my voice trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence for fear it upset him.

  "My mom passed about seven and a half years ago, after a very long and very soul-destroying battle with ovarian cancer. And my father? He passed when I was eleven – not that it made much of a difference to my life. " Hunter took a swig of beer before saying, "He wasn’t around much when I was growing up. Guess you could call him a check in the mail daddy – he split when I was four and left my mother to raise me alone. I did manage to catch that particular funeral though." Shrugging, he added, "I was still inside when my mother died." He took another swig from his bottle before saying, "She was buried a month before anyone told me."

  "Jesus," I strangled out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

  What was I supposed to say to that?

  "I do have one living family member. My sister, Hayden – you remember?"

  I nodded in embarrassment. "I remember."

  "She happens to be an even bigger pothead than your husband," Hunter added brightly. "Guess my father was as much of a fuckboy as he was a shitty father." He paused for a moment before adding, "To be honest, I'm expecting plenty more half-sibling to fall out of the woodworks." Frowning, he added, "He was a whore."

  I had no idea what to say to him and I was fairly certain my facial expression said as much. "I…" Shaking my head, I struggled to find the right words. "Hunter, I…"

  When the words didn’t come, I set my bottle down on the counter, walked over to where he was standing, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I poured all of my sorrow for all he had endured into the hug.

  I thought I was doing a pretty good job at comforting him, until he hit me with the killer blow.

  "I'm thirty-one-years-old today, Hope."

  My entire body stiffened and I swung my gaze up to gape at him.

  "It's your birthday, too?"

  He nodded. "What are the odds, right?"

  "Right." I swallowed the huge swell of emotion rising inside of me. "Is that what the cake's for?"

  He nodded again, but this time a smile broke through, dazzling me.

  "Hunter, why didn’t you say anything earlier? We could have celebrated together."

  "Because I don’t care about my birthday." Hunter smiled down at me and tucked a wandering curl behind my ear. "I just wanted to spend yours with you."

  "Why?"

  "Because you're my best friend."

  "I'm a terrible best friend," I muttered as I furiously tried to calm my racing pulse. I continued to hug him and he continued to stare down at me.

  He was just so tall and strong and primal...

  I knew I needed to step away, but my body refused to listen to my brain.

  I knew there were a million reasons why I shouldn’t be close to this man. And every time I wasn’t with him, every single reason why he was a bad idea for me built up in my head until I had a bulletproof case against him with a list as long as my arm of all the reasons why Hunter and I shouldn’t be friends. But those reasons always seemed to evaporate into thin air when he was close by.

  It seemed like the only time I could stop overthinking and just breathe was when I was alone with him.

  He wasn’t judging me and I wasn’t pretending around him.

  I was me when I was with him and, surprisingly, being me seemed to be enough for him.

  "I didn’t even get you a card," I added lamely.

  "But you baked me a cake," he offered cheerfully.

  "I would have bought you a gift had I known."

  "I don’t want a gift," he countered. "I want the cake."

  He wants the cake.

  He wants your fucking cake.

  Oh Jesus…

  Why wouldn’t my body just calm the hell down?

  I was a married woman, dammit!

  Jordan, I mentally repeated over and over. You're married, Hope. You're back with your husband now. Hunter… Lucky… He means nothing to you. Nothing!

  The timer rang, startling me and breaking the tension building between us.

  "Well, happy birthday," I croaked out before forcing myself to remove my hands from his rock-hard waist and taking a sensible step back. "Your present is ready."

  Grabbing an oven mitt, I opened the oven door and checked on our masterpiece. "Well, shit." Removing the tray from the oven, I dropped it down o
n the draining board and sighed in dismay.

  Hunter, who was hovering behind me, added, "It looks kind of…"

  "Floppy?" I offered dejectedly. "That's because it sunk." Ripping the oven glove from my hand, I tossed it on the counter and spun around to face him. "That's never happened to me before."

  "Hope, come on, don’t look so sad. It's just a cake," Hunter coaxed. "It doesn’t even matter, sweetheart."

  "But it was your present," I moaned. "And it sunk."

  "Then dance with me instead," he suggested. "That can be my present."

  "Dance with you?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you serious?"

  He smirked. "Why not?"

  "Because there's no music," I shot back. "And it's weird." I stared around the room aimlessly before refocusing my gaze on him. "I'm not dancing."

  Hunter's brows shot up in what looked like a silent challenge. "You're not dancing, or you're not dancing with me?"

  "Both," I shot back. "I'm not dancing – alone or with you."

  "Oh, I think you'll change your mind," he walked over to the iPod dock plugged into the wall and began to fiddle around with the shiny black iPod touch attached to it, "when you hear this!"

  Seconds later, music blasted loudly through the otherwise silence.

  I raised a brow in disbelief when I recognized the song playing.

  "Hozier?"

  "What?" He looked comically wounded. "Hozier is a fucking genius."

  "I agree, but Jackie and Wilson?" I shook my head, at a loss. "I guess I was expecting something… else."

  "Come on," he teased, prowling towards me. "Let's go."

  "No," I giggled, backing away from him. "No fricking way, Hunter."

  "Oh, come on," he laughed, reaching for me. "What have you got to lose?"

  My heart, I thought to myself as I dodged his interception. "I'm not doing it."

  "It's just a dance," he added, wrecking me with that smile. "Just one dance." When he reached for me this time, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge. "Just two people moving in the same direction to some fucking fantastic music." His hands snaked around my waist, pulling my body closer to his. "What do you say, HC?"

  "A big fat no."

  "Oh, come on," he said with exaggerated exasperation. "How often do you get all dolled up and wear a pretty dress?"

  "Are you saying I don’t dress up enough, Mr. Casarazzi?"

  "You're asking a man who'd prefer you to never wear anything at all," he shot back, not missing a beat. "I would say too much, Miss Carter." He flicked at the strap of my dress and waggled his brows.

  "You are so infuriating," I laughed despite trying my hardest not to.

  "Maybe," he agreed. "But I also happen to know how to dance."

  "Oh, you do?"

  "In all forms," he replied, grinning. "Vertically. Horizontally…"

  "Fine," I conceded, allowing him to pull my body flush against his. "Anything for a quiet life."

  He spun me out before pulling me roughly back to him and I swear I could feel every nerve ending stand to life inside of me when he placed his hand on my lower back.

  And when he tipped my chin upward, I forgot to breathe.

  "See?" he mused, grinning down at me. "We're dancing, and no one died." He feigned a gasp before adding, "And look, the world's still turning."

  "Funny," I rasped, struggling to maintain my composure, as his body moved directly against mine, and just like every time he had laid a finger on me, my traitorous heart skipped a beat.

  He was bringing to life a side of me I never knew existed, and it was a side I wasn’t sure I should like, but most definitely did.

  Jackie and Wilson rolled into Cherry Wine and we continued to dance.

  Closing my eyes, I rested my cheek against his chest and sighed in contentment as we swayed to the melancholy music.

  "You're my best friend," I half whispered, half slurred as I swayed in his arms. "How pathetic is that?" I laughed humorlessly then buried my face in his chest. "Aside from Teagan, you're all I have."

  "It's not pathetic, HC," he replied, tone soft. "It's fucking beautiful."

  "You were never supposed to be part of my plan," I muttered, more to myself than him.

  "Plan?"

  "I vowed myself to another man nine years ago," I choked out. "Being around you only complicates things, and I don’t need any more complications in my life."

  "Well, tough fucking luck, sweetheart," he chuckled. "Because I am not walking away from you." His arms tightened around me. "And I won't let you walk away from me."

  "I'm so lonely, Hunter," I blurted out, burying my face in the fabric of his shirt. My words were a drunken admission, but one hundred percent true. "All the time."

  "I know." His voice was low and gruff, his hands gentle, as he cradled my body against his, still swaying to the music. "I know, baby."

  "I ache," I admitted, eyes still clenched shut. I could feel his heart hammering against his chest, the rhythm matching mine. "There's a hole inside of me," I breathed. "A hollowness, and it hurts me."

  Hunter tipped my chin upwards, forcing me to meet his gaze head on. "I can make it go away, Hope," he whispered, blue eyes searing me. "I can make it all better."

  I didn’t doubt him.

  I knew he could.

  And that's what scared me the most.

  I was losing myself in this man.

  I was forgetting who I was.

  And who I belonged to.

  He cradled the back of my head almost lovingly, using his free hand to stroke my cheek, as his blue eyes burned a direct hole to my soul.

  "I can take care of you, Hope," he whispered. "If you just let me."

  "I just want someone to love me," I breathed, leaning into his touch.

  Hunter's eyes burned with sincerity as he said, "Someone already does."

  His touch was so intimate, his words were so sincere and loving, that when he leaned his face closer to mine, I didn’t step back or turn away.

  And when his lips touched mine, I didn’t pull away like I knew I should.

  Instead, I knotted my hands in his shirt, and clung to his huge frame.

  And when his tongue probed my lips, seeking more, I opened my mouth and granted him entrance.

  The moment his tongue swiped against mine, a hot blast of pleasure ripped through my body, causing me to moan into his mouth and Hunter to growl.

  He was kissing me.

  Hunter was kissing me.

  And I was enjoying it.

  Worse than enjoying it, I was kissing him back.

  The smell of him, cologne and cigarettes and mouthwash.

  I should have hated it.

  I didn’t.

  With every stroke of his tongue, I moaned and writhed in unimaginable pleasure as the taste of beer, mint, and nicotine filled my senses.

  His calloused hands on my body were entirely welcome as he touched me in all the ways I desperately needed to be touched.

  Heat pooled in my core as I lost myself in him.

  He thrust his hips against me as we kissed. I could feel his erection straining, pressing hard against my throbbing clit. I was under no illusion as to how strong this man was, how sexual and primal, and the fact that he wanted me over any other woman?

  Knowing that I was turning him on like this drove me wild...

  This is bad, my brain screamed, but my body was screaming don’t you dare stop, and my heart? My traitorous heart was telling me that wrong had never felt so right.

  His kiss was drugging me. I was losing control as his hands roamed over my body, squeezing, pulling, wanting more from me.

  I wanted more, too.

  I wanted everything I had been denied for so long.

  He burned me with his touch and marked me with his tongue.

  It was as if he was laying claim to something that wasn’t mine to give or his to take.

  I felt his hands move to cup my ass and I shuddered in delight.

  With our lips still punishing the others
in what had to be a bruising kiss, he lifted me clean off my feet.

  And then we were moving through the apartment.

  My back hit his bedroom wall with a thud, followed quickly by his body as he slammed against me clumsily, the alcohol in our systems making this messy and raw and fucking perfect.

  The feel of him, so big and hard and strong pressed against my softness, caused a shudder of pleasure to roll down my spine.

  Balancing myself on one foot, I hitched my other leg around his waist, drawing him closer. My pussy clenched painfully, the need to be filled by this man causing my physical pain.

  When I fisted my hand in the waistband of his jeans and tugged him harder to my body, Hunter groaned into my mouth, his lips becoming more frantic against mine.

  I wasn’t the person I envisioned myself to be.

  I wanted the dangerous.

  I wanted his darkness and all he exposed me to.

  I wanted to feel like I was the only woman in the world. Hunter made me feel like that. He made me feel special and elusive and one in a million.

  I was so broken from my past. I wasn’t sure what to do. My heart and my conscience were at war. The selfish and selfless parts of my soul battling it out, both bringing their A game.

  Loyalty was imbedded inside of me. It was how I was raised. But it was switching. I could feel it. Mixing inside of me. Blurring the lines.

  I was ruined.

  Drowning in the man I couldn’t give my heart to.

  But I couldn’t feel remorse or guilt right now. The only sensations flooding my body were the ones Hunter was giving me.

  "You're so fucking beautiful," he rasped, breaking our kiss. "Christ…" His gaze raked over my body from head to toe before finally settling on the hem of my dress that had moved higher up my thigh. He made a noise, almost like a sigh, before dropping to his knees on the floor.

  My heart hammered wildly as I watched him watch me, his blue eyes dark with desire. He pushed my dress up to bunch around my hips before yanking down my panties.

  And then his mouth was there, in my most private of areas, where only one man had been before him.

  "Oh god!"

  The stubble on his jaw scratched against the apex of my thighs as he licked and suckled at my clit.

  Moaning loudly, I sagged against the wall. "Hunter…god…I can't."

 

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