My mother’s face, which I saw every morning when I looked into the mirror, wrinkled when she smiled. “You look stunning, daughter. Diego, doesn’t Mommy look stunning?” she gushed.
“Very pretty, Mommy,” Diego yelled from the dining area.
“Thank you both.” I rushed to the table to grab my purse from the table, and just as I did a loud knock sounded at the door. Butterflies fluttered in my belly.
“Who’s that, Mama?” Diego questioned, eyes wide looking at the door.
“No one. Mama, can you take him down the hall, please?” I looked over at my mother, anxiously. Carter had already met Diego but I didn’t want to make a habit out of it. It was bad enough that I was confused about what was happening between me and this man I barely knew. I didn’t want Diego to get caught up in that. Unfortunately for me, I got too caught up in my thoughts and my mother was too slow to catch Diego as he dashed over to the door, pulling it open.
“Diego!” I yelled.
“You’re the fireman!” he said excitedly, looking up at Carter. My eyes followed Diego’s and something moved through me when I saw him standing there. He stood there smiling down at Diego. His lips were moving but I couldn’t hear a word he said because I was too busy soaking in how damn good he looked. He wore a simple button-up, light blue top, teal pants, and accessorized it with brown shoes and a matching belt. He looked like he belonged on the pages of GQ.
“He’s cute.”
I looked over to my right to see my mother smiling in Carter’s direction.
“… and when I ride in the truck can I wear a hat?” I heard the tail end of Diego’s question which propelled me into action.
“Diego, tell Mr. Carter goodnight,” I instructed my son, pulling him by the arm to hand him over to my mother.
“Okay,” he grumbled. “G’night, Mr. Carter.” Diego waved and I heard my mother mention something about his dinner. By then Carter’s eyes were transfixed on me. The blues of his irises sparkled and I had to swallow the lump in my throat at the way his gaze roved over me.
“You look like–”
“If you say I look like your dream again, I’m slamming the door in your face.”
The deep rumble of his laugh wrapped around me like a full-on hug and I found myself gliding even closer to him as if he were pulling me in. And he was.
“You look fantastic, sugar.” He pulled my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. I was awestruck at how affectionate he always was.
“Thank you,” I answered, eyelids fluttering at the pet name he’d dubbed me with yet again.
“Ready to go?”
I nodded.
“Bye, Mr. Carter!” Diego shouted from the dining room table, mouth full of his food.
“Goodnight, Diego.” Carter waved.
I quickly shut the door behind me after blowing Diego a kiss.
“I decided on Japanese for dinner. That alright with you?” He pressed the button for the down elevator before turning back to me for confirmation.
“I love sushi,” I answered, and then shivered when he reached back, placing his hand at my lower back as I stepped onto the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, my breath was stolen from me, when he moved to cup my face, pulling me into a powerful kiss. The purse I held slipped from my hands. I gripped his waist, steadying myself at the onslaught of his affection. His tongue moved over mine and I moaned into his mouth. I felt something hard and cool at my back and realized I was pressed against the wall of the elevator. Carter took his fill of me and I gave it all to him, unable to control my growing need.
Much too quickly he pulled away, still framing my face with his hands. “I couldn’t greet you the way I wanted to in front of your family.” He placed another quick kiss to my lips and the elevator doors slid open.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I mumbled. My mother nor Diego needed to see the way he kissed me, nor did I want them to see the completely dazed expression I saw on my own face as we passed the mirrors hanging on the wall directly in front of the elevators. “This is crazy,” I sighed, following closely behind Carter, my left hand tucked firmly into his right.
He glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve already established that, sugar.”
I shook my head, laughing lightly. We passed through the doors of my apartment building’s lobby to exit and directly in front of the door was a metallic colored GMC Denali. It was a huge car and I didn’t have to question who the owner was. My instincts were proved correct when Carter pulled his keys out of his pocket, pressing the unlock button and then holding the door open for me. He took my hand to help me step up in the vehicle and then closed the door.
“Do you eat Japanese regularly?” I questioned as we pulled off for the restaurant.
“On occasion. Mostly I grab whatever’s available at the station house.”
“You don’t cook?” I laughed when he made a face. “I should’ve known.” He probably grew up with all types of housekeepers and nannies and personal chefs. Of course he didn’t cook.
“I hate cooking for myself.”
“Of course you do. Can you even boil a pot of water?” I teased.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and I resisted the urge to reach across the center console and run my hand across his beard.
“My mother made sure all her boys knew how to cook.”
I leaned back, surprised. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “She said she didn’t want any lazy ass sons who only dated a woman because she knew how to cook and clean. And she didn’t want us to have to hire chefs and house cleaners because we didn’t know how to do shit for ourselves. It was a waste of money in her eyes.”
My brows dipped as I frowned. “How is that even possible? I saw your mother Friday night. She looked like the epitome of high-class and wealth who wouldn’t dare to have their children touch a dirty pot or pan.” I slapped my hand over my mouth after my statement, feeling ashamed of my judgmental comments.
“Looks can be deceiving, sugar. My mother wasn’t always wealthy. She grew up poor as hell. Her family is from the Appalachian Mountain region. Dirt poor. Hell, dirt poor’s a step up for where she came from.”
“Wow,” I stated, completely overcome by his honesty. I leaned my elbow against the console, resting my chin in my hand, giving him my complete attention. He continued to talk a little more about his mother and how she worked hard to go to school, studying mathematics at the university where she eventually met Robert Townsend.
We made it to the restaurant in about twenty minutes and Carter opted to have the car valeted, instead of searching for parking. Again, he held my hand as I exited his car, and didn’t let it go until he had to, to pull out my chair once we were at our table.
“We could sit at one of the community tables but I wanted you all to myself tonight.”
A shiver ran up my spine at his low words in my ear.
“I don’t want to share you either.” Those words fell from my mouth and for a split second I regretted them because they caused Carter’s eyes to darken, his breath quickening slightly. For a brief moment, I knew what it must’ve felt like to be in the crosshairs of a hunter’s rifle. That was how I felt from his sharp look. Like prey that didn’t stand a chance. And right then, I didn’t want to run or hide.
“You’re trouble,” I stated once he sat down across the table. “I knew it the day of my accident.”
A mischievous grin made its way to his face. “The good kind of trouble, sugar.”
“Is there such a thing?”
He didn’t have a chance to respond when our waiter arrived, placing two glasses of water in front of either of us, and asking if we wanted a drink. I opted for just a lemonade. Being this close to this man all night was intoxicating enough. I wanted to do my best to keep my wits about me, and not do something I’d later regret. And when I looked across the table and found those hungry blue pupils, intently focused on me, I knew the idea of keeping myself from doing something I’d l
ater regret with this man were nothing but famous last words.
~ Chapter Seven ~
Carter
Is it possible to be attracted to the way someone eats? I hadn’t realized it was until I sat across from Michelle at that Japanese restaurant and watched her expertly use her chopsticks for her sushi. The only regret I had was that I wasn’t what she was devouring. I’d have to fix that. The last thing I wanted, as I sat across from her, was the food on the table. All my thoughts, wants, and needs in that moment centered solely around her. I got absorbed in the sound of her voice when she discussed how she came to be an event planner. She’d stumbled upon it by accident, having worked as a caterer while attending Williamsport Community College.
“I planned on transferring to Williamsport U since I had the grades to get my four-year degree, but one night, I met Nancy at an event I was catering for and ended up becoming her assistant and then moved to becoming one of her event planners.”
“I’m sure she appreciates how good of an employee you are.”
She shrugged. “I hope so. I’m not sure she’s over what happened last Friday, to be honest.” Her frown and the look of uncertainty in those brown eyes punched me in the gut.
I sat up, reaching my hand across the table. “I thought that was all sorted out.” I’ll kick Aaron’s ass for real this time if it wasn’t.
“It is. I mean, I’m back at work and she hasn’t mentioned it again, but I still hate that it happened. It was completely unprofessional of me,” she sighed.
“Hey,” I tugged her hand across the table, squeezing it, “what happened was on me. If you need me to tell your boss that, I will.”
She was already shaking her head before I could finish. “Definitely not. I just want to forget it ever happened.”
My body went completely erect and she glanced up with regretful eyes. “You want to forget all of it?”
“No. I didn’t mean that,” she sighed. “Friday night was …” She paused, eyes circling the room, searching for something I knew was indescribable. “There aren’t any words for what Friday night was. It’s just … there are things I can’t get into that make this messy. And obviously your brother had a problem with what happened.”
“My brother’s a prick.”
A small smile creased her face. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. Want to know what else is true?”
“What?”
“That none of it matters.” I stood, moving closer to her until I stood over her. “None of it matters because I’ve already decided you’re mine. Friday night before you let me slip in between your legs was the time you had to run in the opposite direction. But I’ve had you now, and I’ve decided I’m not giving you up.” I pulled her by the hand to stand, pulling out her chair with my free hand. “You have circumstances you think will keep us apart. That’s fine. Because I’m not someone who backs down easily … hell, not at all.”
I planted a quick kiss to her parted mouth. “Come with me.”
“Where’re we going?” she asked, carefully watching me toss a few bills for the check on the table, and taking her hand.
“Remember what I said Friday night?”
“You said a lot Friday night.”
I smirked at the same time I pulled the door open of my car for her to get in. “The part about wanting you to know everything about me.”
“I think I recall something like that.”
I nodded, my eyes lingering on the exposed skin of her thighs when the fabric of her dress parted as she adjusted herself in the passenger seat. My mouth watered. She inhaled sharply when I reached across her lap for the seatbelt.
“I can buckle myself in,” she murmured, voice hitched.
“Just making sure you don’t go anywhere.” I stared into those brown pools of hers. “We’re going someplace so you can get to know more about me.” I closed the door on her suspicious gaze and rounded the front of my Denali.
“As long as you don’t keep me out too late,” she responded once I got in behind the wheel.
“What’s too late? You have a curfew?” I teased.
I laughed when she rolled her eyes and said, “Just drive.”
“Anything you say, sugar. Anything you say.”
****
“What’s this place?” Michelle questioned, looking around at the seemingly abandoned brick building. I followed her eyes as they roamed up the metal staircase that ran the ten stories up to the roof of the building. It was the perfect spring night. Not a cloud in the sky. Great for viewing the rest of the city from the roof.
“Come with me.” I took her hand in mine, pulling her toward the latched staircase.
“What are you doing? What is this place?”
“This,” I paused, while pulling down the lever that released the unfolding staircase as well as the open-air lift, “is the place where I became a firefighter.”
Her nose wrinkled a bit as she looked around and then back at me.
“This is the building the fire department uses for trainees during the academy. We have to make it up the staircase, carrying all our equipment on our back, plus a hose, in under two minutes, flat.”
I watched Michelle’s profile as her head shifted up the building, eyes widening. “Good thing you did,” she finally stated before turning toward me. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t made it up those steps.”
I swallowed, my hand tightening around hers.
“Think you can make it up?” I nudged my head toward the building.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Maybe a little.”
She shook her head and giggled. “I’ve noticed.”
“I’ll let you have more than two minutes.” I tugged her arm in the direction of the staircase.
“Carter, I am not going up those stairs! Not in these heels.”
I ran my eyes down the length of her legs, noting the outline of her legs in the thigh-high boot, with the four inch heels.
“I’ll carry you.” I pulled her to me.
“You really are insane.”
I laughed some more and planted a kiss on her ear because I couldn’t help myself.
“We can take the lift.” I stepped back from her and opened the half door of the metal lift that ran up the length of the building. I held out my hand to her.
“Ahh!” she screamed when I pulled her to me once she took my hand. I shut the door and let the lift carry us up to the roof of the building, helping her off once we arrived.
“How much does all your gear weigh in total?” she questioned, looking around the flattop of the roof.
“Close to eighty pounds. The hose adds another fifty pounds.”
Those honey eyes bulged when she turned back to me. “You had to carry a hundred and thirty pounds up ten stories in under two minutes?”
I gave a half shrug. “Yeah.”
“Williamsport really does have the best of the best.”
“And we don’t let anyone forget it either. Especially us guys in the rescue squad.”
“So I’ve heard.”
I tilted my head to the side at her comment. “What else have you heard about us?”
She shrugged, arms crossed at her chest. My eyes dipped to the way her position made her cleavage swell just enough to cause a stirring in my pants.
“I’ve heard rescue squad guys are all macho men.”
“Oh yeah.”
She nodded. “Seen it in action when I was down at the firehouse, too.”
I took a step closer to the ledge, and sat against the raised part of the roof.
“You’re too close to the edge,” she gasped.
I turned, looking over my shoulder, noticing there was nothing supporting my back. “I’m fine. Come here.” My voice deepened. A sense of satisfaction engulfed me when she moved toward me like a moth to a flame. I opened my arms, pulling her by the waist to me. She placed her arms on my shoulders and lowered her forehead to mine.
“Are you some k
ind of adrenaline junkie?” she questioned.
I moved my head back an inch to be able to stare at her more clearly. “What made you ask that?”
“I Googled you.”
A smirk I couldn’t hide released on my lips.
She smiled back. “I couldn’t help it. You don’t take a lot of pictures with your family. But I did learn you were in the Army for eight years, special forces, before becoming a firefighter. You drive an expensive motorcycle. All signs point to you being some kind of adrenaline junkie.”
She attempted to pull away, but my hands held firm. I didn’t answer for a long while, instead staring up at her. Assessing the uncertainty in her eyes and the pout of her full lips.
“You’re wondering if this is some type of adrenaline high for me?”
She pushed out a breath and stared off into the dark sky behind me. “You know they say that people who hook up after enduring some type of traumatic event together are often just romanticizing the circumstances. They eventually fizzle out because the only thing that held them together was the trauma of their experience. There’s no real connection.” Her eyes lingered over my shoulder for a while before she turned back to me.
“You think that’s what’s happening here?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed.
“I do know,” I stated firmly, rising to stand over her. “I’ve been in enough traumatic circumstances, as you say, to know the difference between real and make believe when it comes to what I’m feeling.” I began walking her backwards to the nearest wall, loving the feeling of her body acquiescing to my movements. “I’ve rescued more people than I can count and not one of them has been up here on this roof with me. Not one of them has spent the night on my family’s estate with me and left me hungry for more. These experiences belong to you. So, to answer your question, no. You are not some type of adrenaline rush for me.”
She sighed, looking up at me when her back hit the brick wall at the other side of the roof. I pressed my full bodyweight into hers, moving my leg in between her thick thighs, parting them ever so slightly.
“Anything else you want to know?”
She nodded. “Everything. I want to know everything about you.” Her voice was breathless, just above a whisper. But I heard the begging in it. The need that matched my own.
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