Resuscitate Me

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Resuscitate Me Page 27

by Leddy Harper


  “I most certainly will not—”

  “Then I’m taking out anything that won’t fit in the back of this rust bucket and throwing it in the dump. As well as the car. Either way, Kara, we’re not taking this home with us. I’m not letting you drive it back, I sure as hell ain’t driving it, and you can forget about us towing it behind the truck.”

  I opened my mouth to argue again, but he gave me a pointed stare. “Fine. When we get back, we’ll go look at cars—but,” I said, pointing at him, “I get to pick it out.”

  The corners of his lips curved up. “Deal.” I should’ve known he was up to no good by the gleam in his eye and how fast he gave in.

  “So what are we going to do with it? We’re leaving in the morning. No way can I sell it by then.” As much fun as the last two days had been, I didn’t care to extend this trip any longer. I hadn’t been back in eight weeks, ever since my abrupt departure, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stay longer than necessary. My parents made us sleep in separate bedrooms, and I didn’t think I’d last another night not lying next to him or falling asleep to the sound of his breathing.

  “Sign the title over to your parents and let them handle it.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed into the air. “You’re kidding yourself if you think my parents would handle this for me.”

  He waved me off and went inside the house. I didn’t care to be involved in that conversation. They seemed to like Carter; however, he was still the man taking their little girl away. And not just away, but to another state. Carter was about to find out what it’s like to be rejected. Probably for the first time in his life, if I had to guess.

  I hadn’t finished cleaning out the car before Carter was back, a stupidly wide grin plastered on his gloating face. “They said they’d take it to the donation center and send us the slip.”

  “Can he even do that without me here?”

  He lazily rolled his eyes and gave a shallow shrug. “Who knows? I told him if he can’t, just take it to the dump.”

  “You told him to throw my precious car away?” I almost didn’t make it through my question without laughing at my absurdity.

  “Babe, this isn’t a car. It’s a pile of shit on wheels. I’d be willing to bet it wouldn’t even pass the most lenient safety inspection.” He came closer to the back door and sniffed the air. “Is that gasoline I smell? No. Just no. Stop cleaning it out, because it’s going to the dump, regardless.”

  Not having a leg to stand on in this fight, I pulled myself from the back seat and closed the door. I went to stick the key in the lock, but Carter grabbed my hand and fought against the smirk tugging at his lips.

  “It might be better if you leave it unlocked. If someone takes it, it’ll save your dad a trip.”

  “You’re such an ass.” I playfully swatted at him.

  “Your mom has dinner ready. Are you hungry?”

  I took his hand and followed him up the driveway. “Not particularly, but if it means we’re that much closer to morning, then yeah, I’m starved.”

  * * *

  I was astounded at how well Carter got along with my parents. Honestly, it was a big worry of mine when he demanded he come with me. Now, I’m glad he did. It gave my parents an opportunity to meet the man who’d stolen my heart. My mom wasn’t as anxious as she was before our trip, although she still couldn’t fool me. She may have laughed with Carter and waited on him hand and foot like he was some prince, but I could see the sorrow in her eyes.

  “I’ll admit, Kara,” my mom said as we cleaned the dishes, “he’s not a bad guy. You could’ve done worse.”

  Carter and my dad had gone to take care of a few things before we left in the morning, leaving the two of us alone for the first time all weekend.

  “Why do I feel a but coming on?”

  She smiled and waved the dishtowel in front of my face. “He’s eleven years older than you. I wasn’t born yesterday; I know you two are sleeping together. You’re moving into his house with him, which is where you’ve been staying, and I’d be a blind fool to think there hasn’t been anything going on. My only concern is this isn’t real love.”

  “Then what is it?” I turned to her, no trace of humor in my tone or my clenched jaw. “Please, Mom, tell me how I feel about him. More than that, tell me how he feels about me. Because, apparently, spending a couple days with us makes you an expert on our relationship.”

  She placed her hand on my arm to settle me down, but it didn’t work. “I’m not suggesting I know anything about your relationship. However, I have lived longer than you, and I’ve seen things. I’m not a naïve, love-struck young woman. I worry this is lust, and when the excitement of sex wears off, you’ll be left with nothing in common.”

  I chose to ignore the topic of my sex life, and instead, dealt with the problem head-on. “I don’t see how our age means anything. It’s eleven years, not thirty. We have plenty of things in common and can hold a conversation about almost anything. We balance each other out. When he gets upset, I calm him down, and vice versa.”

  “So he gets mad a lot?”

  “Don’t twist my words.”

  She sighed and picked up a pot to dry. “I’m not trying to, Kara. I only want to make sure you’re looking at this logically.”

  “Love isn’t logical. It doesn’t follow a set of rules or fit inside guidelines. The universal symbol is a heart for a reason. A heart is resilient. You can eliminate some of the electrical currents running through it, segregate and cauterize veins, reroute the electrical currents, and yet it keeps beating. Where’s the logic in that?”

  She turned her glossy eyes to me, unshed tears brightening the flashes of steel in her soft, round orbs. “You amaze me; do you know that? You’re so smart, smarter than I am. I’ve always known it, but standing here, listening to you, I’m just in awe.”

  “The next time you find yourself questioning where you went wrong raising me, you should probably remember this. And then pat yourself on the back for raising a smart woman capable of amazing you.” As each tear fell, my irritation lessened.

  She brushed a few stray hairs behind my ear and smiled with soft, trembling lips. “I’m so very proud of you. And I hope you know by now that I often speak without thinking. I’m sorry for saying that to you, and how it made you feel. I can’t take it back, but I want you to know I recognize it was wrong…not only to say it, but the statement itself was incorrect. I didn’t go wrong with you. In fact, by some miracle, you survived and came out this beautiful, smart, incredible person. Carter is lucky to have someone like you love him.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” A drop of warm moisture rolled down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away. “And I’m lucky to have him love me back.”

  Just then, the guys walked back inside. Carter had a long-sleeved flannel shirt on, and it made me sad. It was cooler here than down in Florida, but it still wasn’t cool enough to warrant another layer of clothes on top of the Henley. Even though he’d mostly healed, being cold seemed to be something we’d always have to live with.

  It became my mission to keep him warm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It had taken us two days to unpack everything we brought back. I had to keep a close eye on Carter, because he found creative ways to throw things away. Granted, I didn’t need to keep everything from every box I’d packed, but I had a hard time letting things go.

  “Hey, Kara?” Carter called for me from the bedroom. I was in the kitchen cleaning up dinner dishes while he took care of the last box, because it was filled with classroom items and I wasn’t prepared to go through it quite yet.

  I stood in the doorway and caught a glimpse of his bare back hunched over next to the bed. “If you’re asking for permission to throw something away, the answer is no.”

  He stood up, and when he turned around, I couldn’t contain my laughter. He must’ve found my package of fake mustaches I had for a class project and stuck one on his face, over his own facial hair. He crossed the room
with such a serious expression it quieted my giggles.

  “What’s going on?”

  He took my hands in his, and with the most somber voice, said, “Kara, I mustache you a question.” Before I could laugh out loud over his joke, he dropped to one knee, and my heart stilled. “Will you do me the honor of being my lifeline for eternity?”

  I was at a loss for words, worried I’d misunderstood his question. Before I got the chance to ask him if that was a proposal, he pulled a ring from his pocket. It glistened in the soft light from the lamp in the corner and stole my breath away. I covered my chest with my hand and gaped at the brilliant stone clutched between his forefinger and thumb.

  “Kara Lynn Stevens, will you marry me?” His voice quivered and begged for my attention. When I took my eyes off the square stone and met his gaze, I saw the panic, the hope, the desperation shining in his bright, emerald pools of love.

  “Yes,” I whispered, and then followed it up with a resounding, “Yes!”

  His shoulders dropped as well as his chin, and a long exhale rushed past his smiling lips. He slid the ring over my knuckle and stood up, taking me in his arms. I didn’t get a chance to admire the diamond on my finger, because he carried me to the bed and fell onto it with me beneath him, where he proceeded to strip me of what little clothing I had on.

  He made love to me the only way he knew how—demanding and full of passion. However, it was so different than any other time before. Instead of guttural phrases meant to ignite my lustful hunger, he told me how much he loved me in raspy words, how he couldn’t live without me, and how he was the luckiest man in the world.

  He marked my body.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  “You’ve been in there a while…is everything okay?” Carter asked when I came back to bed from the bathroom.

  We ended up spending more time tangled together than sleeping over the past week, so when I woke up early this morning to pee, I slipped out from his hold and left him sleeping.

  I curled up against his chest and placed my hand on his shoulder while we faced one another. I took a long look at the ring he’d placed there a week ago—I still couldn’t get used to seeing it on my finger. “When did you decide to marry me? I mean, like, when did you buy this?”

  His lips lingered on my forehead for a moment before his hoarse morning voice filtered between us. “I bought it the day after you got your tattoo, but I wanted to wait until after I asked your dad for his permission. Not that it would’ve changed my mind; I still would’ve asked you even if he’d said no. But he didn’t. So that saved me from being the asshole son-in-law who defied his wishes.”

  I craned my head back and peered up at him. “You asked my dad?”

  “Yeah. Our last night there. If he said no, I didn’t wanna stay there for a few more days with him hating me. I asked him after dinner when you and your mom were cleaning the kitchen. He wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t expect him to jump up and down and shake my hand or start calling me son or anything. But at least he said yes. So I guess that’s all that matters.”

  “What’d he do?”

  Carter rolled onto his back, pulling me with him until I lay on his chest with my hands beneath my chin. “Well…he said he appreciated me for asking, and then went on about how difficult marriage is. He questioned me on my intentions and asked an obscene amount of questions regarding my parents and the family values they instilled upon me. Next was the interrogation on my religious beliefs, political views, thoughts on children and how they should be raised. Finally, after all that, he laughed at me and told me I’d fit right in. He patted me on the back and welcomed me to the family. I swear, babe, I was sweating bullets.”

  “He did not,” I said with a gasp, staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Oh, he most certainly did.”

  I chuckled at my father’s behavior. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I got the answer I wanted. Both answers.”

  “Well, I have a question for you…more like a few, but each one depends on how you answer.” I waited for a response, which came in the form of raised eyebrows. “Do you have an idea of how long you want to wait before we get married?”

  He ran his fingers through my hair and studied my expression. “Whenever you want, babe. I figured you’re the one who’s been dreaming of this her entire life, not me. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be here, so it’s not up to me.”

  “Okay. If I told you we could either get married in the next three months or wait over a year, which one would you choose?”

  His brow creased and his gaze narrowed. “If it were up to me, I’d take you down to the courthouse today. But it’s not my choice. Just tell me when and where to meet you and I’ll be there. Why? Is it a season thing? Do you not wanna be a winter bride? Whatever the hell that is.”

  I giggled and kissed the center of his chest. “No, I just don’t want to be a fat bride. The season doesn’t matter. My size, however, does.” I traced the thick lines of his tattoo with my fingertip, avoiding his gaze and trying to pretend his silence didn’t exist.

  “Do you plan on getting fat? I don’t get it. I don’t care how big or small you are.”

  “Well, I don’t exactly plan to get fat per se…but I will gain weight.” When he didn’t respond, I glanced up and took note of his intense stare. It was as if I could see the wheels turning in his head. “I figured we could get married sometime in the next few months while I can still wear something formfitting, or we can hold off. You own a gym, so I’m sure in nine months, I can work out and lose the weight, but it’d probably be best not to plan anything until I see how many pounds I put on.”

  He blinked, and then his mouth opened. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he rolled me onto my back and held himself over me. He opened his mouth again, yet still, nothing came out. Finally, he dropped his gaze to my bare chest and crawled down my body until his mouth hovered over my flat stomach.

  His gaze found mine when he asked, “Are you for real?”

  Words wouldn’t come to me; panic swallowed them whole.

  “When? How? I mean…how do you know?”

  “I found the tests when I was looking for toilet paper, and I realized I was late. So I took one. I didn’t think anything of it, but you insisted on not wearing a condom when I thought I was ovulating, so I wanted to make sure. The pull-and-pray method isn’t all that reliable, apparently.”

  He pressed his lips to my abdomen, the heat of his breath warming me from the inside out. “I love you so much,” he whispered against my skin, although I wasn’t sure who he was talking to.

  I threaded my fingers into his hair and made him look at me again. “Is this okay? Are you mad?”

  “Mad? Are you fucking kidding me? What would I have to be mad about?”

  “It’s so soon. You just asked me to marry you last week.”

  “I don’t give two shits if I asked you five minutes ago. I already told you, Kara…we don’t take baby steps. Why should this be any different?”

  “Well, I guess now we’ll have our own set of baby steps, huh?”

  He pulled himself up my body and claimed my mouth with his. His knees pushed mine open until he settled himself between my parted legs and ran the smooth skin of his hard shaft through my folds.

  “Does this mean I get to throw out that box of school supplies?” he asked in his gravelly tone he saved for the bedroom.

  Had I not been confused by his question, I would’ve found it funny, because asking about trash wasn’t his typical dirty talk, no matter what tone he used. However, I was caught off guard and had to push him away enough to see his face. “Why?”

  “Well, now you’re gonna be a mom.”

  I blinked at him, offering him a chance to redact his last question. But he didn’t. I shoved him away farther until he knelt between my legs. “You believe women who have children belong at home and not in the workplace?”

  “No, babe. That’s not what I�
��m saying. I just thought you’d wanna be home with an infant. I know I don’t want my kid being raised by a nanny or some daycare with strangers. I’d rather you be the one to care for it.”

  “What if I wanted to go back to teaching?”

  He hung his head and huffed. “Can we discuss this later? My dick wants to be eight and a half inches deep in you right now.”

  I glanced between his legs and caught the sight of his pre-come dripping from the tip. It made my core clench with need; however, I wasn’t about to let this conversation drop. After all, it was because of his pre-come we were even entertaining this topic.

  “I’m pretty sure this is more important than you getting your dick wet.”

  “I can finally fill you up, pump you full of every last drop without consequences. Trust me, nothing is more important than that.”

  I shook my head with my hands covering my face, because I didn’t want him to see the amusement playing on my lips. “Carter. The faster we get answers, the faster you can fuck me. So please, let’s just finish this.”

  “I obviously won’t stop you if that’s truly what you wanna do. But I ask that you look at this from my point of view. We were both raised by mothers who stayed at home with us. You don’t have to work. There’s no need for us to drop the baby off with strangers just so you can earn a paycheck.”

  “It’s not about the money.”

  “Then what’s it about?”

  “Giving me something to do. Giving me a purpose.”

  “And raising our child isn’t a purpose?”

  I grunted out my frustrations and fisted the sheet beneath me. “I’m not saying that. But I don’t want—nor have I ever wanted—to sit at home all day. No one says I can’t do something and raise a baby.”

  “So you just want something to do?” He regarded me while I nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow I’ll look into getting that space on the south side of the gym. I’ll build that women’s facility we’ve been talking about. It’ll be your project, your gym. Is that enough? Can I please fuck you now?”

 

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