by Kim Law
Of course, she wasn’t likely to meet up with Carter for a rainy sunrise.
Which was fine. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face him again.
She threw the covers back and climbed from her bed. It had been raining since yesterday morning, which had suited her perfectly. She’d been in a rainy-day kind of mood. Because the only thing that had been on her mind the whole day was that kiss. And Carter’s suggestion that they have sex.
She’d felt his touch throughout her entire body, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she wanted more. Her freaking toes had tingled. But try as she might, she’d never been a casual-sex type of girl. She had to at least believe it could go somewhere before going to bed with a man. Yet with Carter, she wanted to be different. She wanted to explore that. To enjoy it. Only . . . how?
What she needed was advice. And she knew just the person to give it.
After brushing her teeth, she grabbed a bottle of water from the minifridge she kept in her room, scooped up her phone, and settled onto the cushion of the window seat.
Call me when you get up. I’m considering casual sex.
She hit “Send,” and laughed when less than fifteen seconds later her phone rang. Her friends were the best.
Roni’s face flashed across her screen. Roni had always been an early riser, so Ginger had hoped she’d be up. And though her friend was now happily married with a kid on the way, she hadn’t been shy in the past about having the occasional good time.
Ginger pushed the button to answer. “So how do I make sure it stays casual?” she greeted.
“And good morning to you, too.” Roni chuckled. “Who are we talking about, here? Do I know him?”
Ginger didn’t answer.
“Oh my god, it’s Carter, isn’t it?” Roni squealed. “You’re going to have sex with Carter! Your boyhood crush. The hottie currently back in town and just next door.” Then she sucked in a sharp breath. “Or have you already had sex with him?”
“I have not. And I may not.” Ginger wet her lips. “But if I wanted to . . .”
“Does Andie know? Oh . . . do I have a secret? We had a feeling it might lead to this.”
“Roni!” Ginger whispered the word as if someone could overhear their conversation. She put a finger to the edge of her curtains and inched it away from the frame. There was a light on in Carter’s room. “I’m serious. We kissed. He suggested an affair. And I don’t know what to do.”
“You kissed?” Roni’s excitement was suddenly contained. “How was it?”
“I just need to know—”
“How was it?” Roni demanded.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. First off, no casual sex if the kiss doesn’t blow your socks off. It’s just not worth it. But second . . . it was Carter. The boy you once would have sold your soul to get a kiss from. How was it?”
“On a scale of one to ten . . .” She gulped. “Fifty.”
“Day-ummm.”
“I know,” Ginger said. “It was so good. But Roni, I don’t do this. I never have.”
“But you’ve had sex before.”
“Of course. But only if—”
“I know. Only if you really had your hopes up about the relationship. Which means, with the lame-o dates that you so often find, you’re still probably running dry, right? Handling matters yourself?”
She shook her head at Roni’s wording. “Two years and counting.”
“Oh, honey. It sounds like Carter is exactly what you need.”
“Then tell me what to do.”
“You got it. First of all, forget the nerves. Toss them out the window. We’re just talking sex. Hopefully mind-blowing sex, but still, it’s just sex.”
“With my friend.”
“Right. But that’s okay. I had sex with plenty of friends in my day. And we’re all still friends today.”
This was working. Ginger nodded. It could be done. She wouldn’t ruin her life if she decided to go to bed with Carter. She took a drink of her water.
“All you really need to remember is to not overthink it.” Roni said.
“No overthinking. Got it. What else?” Ginger chugged another drink.
“Just have a good time, sweetie. Don’t play games. Tell him what you like, ask him what he likes. And if it becomes hard to deal with, then call stop. Oh, and ground rules. Talk about it beforehand, set up a few ground rules. Then go for it.”
“Okay.” Ginger bit her lip. “I can do that.” Her heart pounded hard, as if she were at the starting line of the act that very moment.
“And the most important thing . . .”
“What’s that?” She peeked out her window again, and saw Carter peeking out his. She lifted her fingers in greeting.
“Make sure he gets you off.”
The bottle slipped from her hand, followed by the phone, and she jerked up off the cushion. She swiped at the cell to keep it from landing in the water, and it skidded across the floor, not stopping until it met the wall.
“Ginger?”
She heard Roni yell through the earpiece.
“Hang on,” she yelled back.
Leave it to Roni to catch her so completely off guard.
She grabbed the emptying bottle, then tossed a towel over the spilled water and hurried after the phone. Her face blazed as she thought about Carter getting her off. Which was the whole point of casual sex. But somehow, seeing Carter through the window as Roni had said that made it all the more real.
She so wanted to do this.
But she also didn’t want to.
“Are you still there?” she asked when she finally got the phone back to her ear. She needn’t have asked, because she could hear Roni laughing.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Roni said, finally getting control of herself. “You’re going to be that man’s fantasy, do you know that? If that one sentence caused that much commotion from you, I can’t imagine how you’ll light up when he touches you.”
“Don’t I know it.” She stood in the middle of her room now, and looked at herself in her mirror. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes shone as if already in the throes of passion. “It’s a fallback plan, anyway. I have a date tomorrow night. I’m hopeful it’ll go well, then Carter—and this crazy idea—will be off the table.”
“Is he as hot as Carter?”
“How do you know how hot Carter is, anyway? You keep saying that. But you haven’t even seen him since you were a teenager.”
“Andie sent me the picture.”
Of course she did. Her friends had probably been talking about her for days.
“My date isn’t bad looking,” Ginger answered. Nor was he in the same league as Carter. “And I really think he’s interested in long-term. We talked about futures and our lives down the road when we met. It was refreshing to have such an honest conversation with a guy.”
And she had to be certain not to overplay it. She didn’t want to try so hard with this one.
“Then go on your date. Enjoy yourself, and see where it can go. But Ginger . . .”
“What?”
“Don’t close the door to Carter yet, will you? You put so much pressure on these dates, maybe having a good time with him would ease that some.”
“That’s what he said.”
More laughter came through the phone. “I always did like that guy. He’s smart.”
“And you’re a smart aleck. How are you, anyway? Pregnancy going okay?”
“It’s great. I’m getting fat.”
Ginger crossed to the window and used the towel to wipe up the water. “I doubt it. You’re only five months.”
“And barely five feet tall. And now there’s a baby shoved in there. Trust me, I’m fat.”
“I’ll bet you’re cute. But then, you’re always cute. I can’t wait to see you this weekend. Did Andie tell you we’re staying out at my house?”
“She told me you have no plumbing,” Roni answered wryly. “If you have any clue about the size of this thing pressing on
my bladder, then you’ll know that won’t work.”
“I have plumbing now. Just nothing hooked up yet. But I’m meeting with my contractor today, and I promise, there will be a running toilet in the house before the weekend.” She’d already let Gene know that had to be a priority.
Decisions hadn’t been made on tile for the bathroom floors and master shower yet, but they would be made on toilets and the guest bath and sink today. Having no beds would be the bigger issue, but she had a couple of blow-up mattresses headed her way, and she’d take a few lamps and some of her mother’s beach chairs when she went over today. And maybe her minifridge. They would need snacks.
“Then I’m looking forward to it,” Roni told her.
They said their good-byes, and Ginger stood and faced her closed curtain. Was Carter still over there? The rain continued to come down, harder now, so there would be no sunrise walk. But she wouldn’t mind getting another peek at him.
She opened the curtains. He was there. Smiling at her.
Her phone rang.
“Good morning, Ginger Root.”
That freaking flutter went wild at the sound of his sleep-laden voice. “That is such a stupid name,” she told him. “But good morning to you, too.” If they’d been kids, they would have opened their windows and talked through the rain. Instead, she shoved the wet cushion to the floor and curled back onto the seat. She liked this better. “Guess we’re skipping the sunrise?”
“Doubt we’d see much.”
“What are you doing over there?” Her attempt to keep the conversation steered away from the subject of them doing it had him glancing down before answering.
“I’m on my laptop,” he said. “Working on a few things. What’s in store for you today?”
“Picking out toilets.”
He chuckled, and she caught herself inching closer to the glass. This was the first time they’d talked since he’d kissed her yesterday morning, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d feared.
“What about you?” she asked. “How’s the remodel coming?”
“Everything is on target. Need to do a little shopping, pick out a new kitchen table and a few other necessities. But we should be done by middle of next week.”
“Just in time for your parents’ party.” She and her mom had been invited to the anniversary party being held a week from Saturday. “You’re heading home after that?”
“Soon after.”
They fell silent, but continued to look at each other across the space. She expected him to ask if she’d given any more thought to his suggestion, but he didn’t. He just watched.
“I should go.” She broke the silence. “I’m taking the morning off to work with Gene, so I should probably shower and get ready.”
“And I should probably”—he glanced down again, but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Have a good day,” she added.
She stood, ready to hang up, but he stopped her. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
He was standing now, same as she, and as if he were right there in the room with her, she would swear she could feel the heat from his body wrap around hers. He touched one finger to his window. “Why balloons?”
She stared, not understanding the question at first, then she saw his smile. And blushed as badly as if he were standing right there. The tattoo on her hip was a bundle of balloons.
Instead of answering, she shook her head and let the curtains drop closed.
“I’ll talk to you later, Carter.”
Soft laughter was his only reply.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A ding sounded in the distance as Ginger entered the bookstore during her lunch hour the next day, and Cookie Phillips called out from upstairs, “Be right with you.”
Cookie had been manager of the store for the last two years.
“No hurry,” Ginger called back. “It’s only me.”
She breathed in the smell of the books. Lunchtime visits were a normal thing. She loved this store as much as she loved reading, and though plenty of people had tried to get her to go digital, so far she’d refused. There was something about holding a book in her hand.
Plus, she’d borrowed her mom’s Kindle one day, and it had gotten lost at sea.
So she stuck with print. They were easier to replace.
She moved between two crammed aisles and ran her fingertip along the tops of the spines, silently thanking her dad for his love of reading. He was the one who’d gotten her started. She used to go out fishing with him most weekends, and he always had a book with him. When Ginger was old enough to read, her dad started bringing her to this very bookstore.
“Whew.” Cookie blew out a breath as she hurried down the narrow set of stairs. Her wispy blonde hair danced with her movements. “A kid got a little too rambunctious up there earlier. Took out one of my shelves.”
She quit talking as the doorbell sounded again, and both women turned to watch Mrs. Rylander enter the shop. Mrs. Rylander had passed eighty last year, always had a perm of tight white curls, and shared a love of green rubber boots with Ginger. She wasn’t sporting the boots today, though, instead wearing royal-blue tennis shoes that matched the T-shirt hanging three inches below her narrow hips.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Mrs. Rylander announced. The thin skin around her mouth pursed as she pointed a finger in Ginger’s direction.
Ginger touched her chest. “Me? What in the world for?”
“I need someone on my side, that’s what for. That Kayla Morgan and your mom are out to run me out of my new position at the senior center, and I won’t have it.”
Ah. Her mom’s wedding. Mrs. Rylander was the rental contact at the senior center.
“I’m sure that’s not their intent, Mrs. Rylander.” Ginger slid out from between the two shelves and went over to the other woman. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, and I’ll talk to my mom tonight. I’m sure it’s simply a misunderstanding.”
Wise, but faded, blue eyes squinted in Ginger’s direction, then the woman gave a nod.
“I’ll get us all some tea and cookies,” Cookie offered. “Lunchtime dessert.” She disappeared into the back of the store before either Ginger or Mrs. R. could comment, and Ginger edged the older woman to a seat near the register.
“Now, tell me what’s going on,” Ginger urged.
“I told them sunrise was the best time for the wedding.” Mrs. R. crossed her arms over her chest and somehow managed to purse her lips even tighter. “Everyone knows that patio looks out over the ocean. But neither of them will listen to me. Why in hell’s bells would someone want to get married on that patio when the sun is setting behind the building?”
She made an excellent point.
“Mom specifically requested sunset?” Ginger hedged around the issue. She knew her mom planned the wedding for early afternoon. They’d all be in the reception area before the sun went down.
“Well, she didn’t want sunrise.” Mrs. R. turned her head the other way. “Nor did she like any of my other suggestions,” she grumbled.
And that, Ginger suspected, was the real issue. “What kind of suggestions?”
Mrs. Rylander adjusted the thin scarf tied at her neck, her fingers remaining at the silk. “The colors,” she snipped out. “That Kayla keeps pushing her toward gold and silver, but I keep telling her, gold and silver won’t look good with your mama’s hair. All that blonde. She needs something stronger.” Mrs. Rylander peeked Ginger’s way, brushing her eyes over Ginger’s red tresses. “A nice bright pink, perhaps.”
Ginger held in her cringe. That color would not look good with Ginger’s hair. And honestly, gold and silver would look good as the backsplash for her mother. There was nothing wrong with the color scheme.
“How about gold and cream?” Ginger tossed out. She’d actually overheard her mother discussing the color change with Kayla the day before. Gold and cream nicely complemented the green Ginger would be wearing
, as well as the lace sheath her mother planned to have on. Apparently the change in plans hadn’t made its way back to the senior center.
The tightness around Mrs. R.’s lips eased. “Cream is nice,” she conceded. She was looking away from Ginger once again. “I married my Henry in cream.”
Her Henry had been gone for six years, but never had Ginger seen a woman who’d loved her husband more. “And I’m sure you were beautiful in that color.”
Mrs. R. sniffed. “Of course I was.”
Cookie showed up loaded down with tea and snacks, but before she could pass out the first cup, the chime of a new customer sounded yet again. Ginger’s back was to the door, but she saw Cookie’s movements halt. Mrs. Rylander leaned to the side and peeked around Ginger.
And the hair on the back of Ginger’s neck stood up.
“Well, hell’s bells,” Mrs. Rylander murmured. “I’d heard he was back in town.”
It was Carter. Ginger didn’t have to be told. She could tell by the heat touching her backside.
“He grew up nice,” Mrs. R. continued under her breath. “He’s as fine as my Henry.”
Ginger slowly turned, and as her gaze locked on Carter’s, behind her Cookie mumbled something about the tea not being hot enough before slipping from the room. Cookie was nothing if not shy.
The warmth in the hazel depths across the room seemed to indicate that Carter had found what he was looking for. “You’re a hard lady to pin down today.”
He’d left a note for her that morning, asking her to meet him at the pier for sunrise. The note had also stated that he had something he wanted to talk to her about.
“I had to be at work early,” she explained. She hadn’t been brave enough to go to the pier. Mostly because she’d feared talking about “something” would lead to more thoughts of them doing “something.” And she’d thought about that way too much in the last two days.
“Not working now?” he asked. His gaze briefly shifted to the woman at her side.
“I’m on my lunch break.” She grabbed a book off the counter and waved it in the air. “Picking up something to read later tonight.”
“Ah.” A twinkle lit his eyes. “Not expecting your date to go well, then?”
