She swatted at him playfully right before reaching a hand into his hair and bringing his lips back to hers. “Smartass.”
The woman kissed like she did everything else—completely. She consumed him and left him feeling a little weak, and while he did his best to give as good as he was getting, there was no doubt he was the one being seduced here.
And that was more than all right with him.
Clothes shifted—they weren’t going to the bedroom. Carter had learned to be prepared at all times where sex and Emery were concerned and as he tossed her panties over his shoulder, he was thankful he’d learned that early on.
It was all breathless sighs and moans of pleasure. It was fast and hard and a little frantic.
It was perfect.
Minutes later, when his legs threatened to give out and Emery was draped over his shoulder, that’s exactly what he told her.
Couldn’t stop himself from damn-near gushing about it.
“You’re perfect, Em. So damn perfect,” he said, his voice a soft whisper against her skin.
Slowly, Emery lifted her head and gave him a very satisfied smile as she gently cupped his cheek in her hand. “I think you’re perfect too, Carter.”
The kiss was soft, lazy. He rested his forehead against hers as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal. And once it did, he helped her down from the counter. As they both fixed their clothes, he looked around at the mess everywhere.
“I think there’s another baking pan we can use,” he said, looking inside the cabinets.
Emery came and crouched down beside him. “We could order takeout if there isn’t one.”
Turning his head, he looked at her. “No way. I promised you these dinners and I’m not backing out on the last one. We’re going to be on the road most of the day tomorrow and I want to do this for you.”
Her smile was grateful and he saw the emotion in her eyes that said more than any words ever could. This was his opening—this was the time to take his brother’s advice and talk to her about what was going to happen after the weekend. Where were they going and where did she see them a week from now? As much as he wanted to know, there was a part of him that was afraid of the answer.
Looking back into the cabinet, he pulled out a glass loaf pan and held it up triumphantly. “Here we go. This will work just fine.” Then he stood and held out a hand to help her up and cursed himself for being a coward. “How about a little wine?” he asked, hoping to distract them both for a few minutes until he got his thoughts under control.
“How about a beer?” she asked from across the room. “Somehow, I wasn’t envisioning wine with meatloaf.”
Amused, he responded, “A good wine can go with anything, but I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
She handed him a beer with a wink. They gently tapped bottles and then Carter put his attention into prepping the meatloaf. Within minutes, bacon was frying and he was seasoning the ground beef, while Emery sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island with her laptop.
“Whatcha looking at?”
“I got a rough draft of the cookbook back and I’m looking it over to see what else we may want to add.”
They worked in silence and it was very comfortable to Carter. He was used to working in a kitchen that was loud and chaotic, but he found it equally comfortable to sit in companionable silence with Emery.
Color me surprised…
Once he placed the meatloaf in the oven, he turned his attention to prepping the mashed potatoes, quickly peeling and cutting them up and getting them on the stove. When that was going, he made quick work of cleaning a couple of ears of fresh corn and blanching them before cutting the corn off the cob. Emery had claimed that frozen corn was fine, but he had his standards. This meal was already something he would never have thought to make on his own, so there was no way he was going to use frozen products when he knew how much better the fresh version was.
He wondered if Emery would be able to tell the difference.
Looking up at her, he smiled. She was biting her lip, her expression serious as she studied her computer screen. It didn’t matter that this project was nothing more than a fundraiser; she was treating it as if she was editing the next New York Times bestseller.
Not that he expected anything less. Emery Monaghan always gave one hundred percent to everything she did. And now that things were a little less contentious between them, he found it to be something he loved about her. And the fact that she was doing this to help his mother made him love her even more.
At the sound of her sighing, he asked, “Everything okay?”
His voice seemed to startle her. “What?” She paused. “I mean, yeah. I guess.” And then she was studying the screen again.
Carter walked around the island and came to stand beside her. She quickly shut the laptop and stared at him.
“What’s going on, Em?”
“Nothing.” Jumping up from her seat, she went over to the oven and glanced inside. “This smells fantastic. What kind of glaze did you end up doing?”
He knew a distraction when he heard it. Going to her, Carter took one of her hands in his and led her back to her seat. “It’s barbecue and you know it. Now what’s going on?”
This time her sigh was full of frustration. “You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” he said mildly.
Exhaling, she began, “Okay, this cookbook? The charity your mother is chairing? They’re having a big dinner gala the first Saturday in December for it.”
“O-kay…”
“My parents are going to be there.”
It wasn’t that she never shared much about her relationship with her parents, but she’d shared enough for Carter to know they were still a bit of a sore subject for her in the light of recent events.
“Of course I’m going to go,” she explained, “and right now, they have no idea I’m helping with it or how I’ve kept in touch with your mother. I’m trying to figure out how to explain it to them without it turning into another uncomfortable conversation.”
Seemed to him any conversation she had with them was going to be uncomfortable. “Em, there isn’t anything wrong with what you’re doing here. You needed to take a leave of absence from work—at your boss’s request, not your own. I would think they’d find it commendable that you found something to do for a good cause.”
“You would think,” she murmured.
Taking her hand back in his, he said softly, “Hey, don’t let them minimize this or make you feel like you did something wrong. If anything, they’re the ones who should feel bad about how they’ve spent their time. Instead of supporting you—their daughter—they put their support behind the man who caused all the problems!” His voice rose with every word. “You shouldn’t be feeling anything but proud of yourself.”
Her eyes were wide and she looked a little shocked by his outburst. “You don’t understand—”
“Yes, I do!” he cried, releasing her and taking a couple of steps back. “Do you know how successful I was when I opened my first restaurant? It was an overnight success! I had food critics praising me in every publication and yet my father made me feel like I had made a mistake. Why? Because I didn’t do things his way! I struggled for years with it. He made me second-guess myself and my passion because he never once said he was proud of me. And even after I achieved success, he still wouldn’t give an inch. It wasn’t until my second place opened that he finally unclenched enough to show a little bit of approval. Not too much, mind you.” Now he began to pace.
“That’s why I sort of phoned in the third restaurant. I mean, why mess with success, right? It was a carbon copy of the other two and it was a no-brainer. But this place? I want the feeling I had when I first started. I want to know I’m creating something new and fabulous and original. Yet all I can seem to focus
on is the fear I had—of being that kid who still wasn’t enough to please his father.” Slamming his palms down on the granite, he looked her fiercely in the eye. “Don’t make my mistake, Em. Stand up for yourself!”
“Carter, I… It’s not that easy! They have a way of speaking to me that just… It makes me want to just cringe and hide and…I don’t know!”
Tears welled in her eyes but he didn’t back off. “You need to go to that gala with your head held high and show them that you can do anything! You walked away from the life they talked you into—they should be apologizing to you. You went your own way and you did something incredible!”
Her shoulders sagged. “It’s just a cookbook, Carter. It’s not like I went out and found the cure for cancer.”
“No, but you helped contribute to the hospice foundation. And that is something no one can take away from you and that thousands of people are going to remember. You’re making a difference in the lives of people who need it. Unlike your parents, who seem to just want to latch on to someone else’s success or ride someone else’s coattails. I say shame on them!”
They were both silent for a long moment before she gave him a weak smile. “You’re pretty fierce, Carter.”
His hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “When I’m passionate about something, I am.” He moved closer. “And right now, I’m feeling very passionate about you.”
She laughed softly. “Dinner’s almost ready. But I’m sure we could have a repeat performance of our pre-dinner show.”
He didn’t laugh.
Didn’t even smile.
“I’m not talking about sex here, Em. I’m talking about how I feel about you. Period.” He swallowed hard—it was time to go big or go home. “I’m crazy about you. I still don’t know how we got here or why it took so damn long for me to open my eyes, but…now that we are, I don’t want to go back. I’m not looking for this to end.”
“Carter…”
“I know I have to go back to New Orleans next week and you’re going back upstate, but…I don’t know, we need to talk about where we see ourselves going.” Resting his forehead against hers, he added, “I know where I see us, but I need to know where you do.” Closing his eyes, Carter held his breath and waited for her response.
And waited.
And waited.
And just when he was about to prompt her, she finally responded. “I’ve been afraid to think about it.”
“Why?” he whispered.
Emery pulled back and looked at him sadly. “Because I wasn’t sure what you were thinking. I was afraid this was all one-sided and…that this was something you normally do.” When he looked at her curiously, she clarified, “I know you always dated a lot of women. I don’t remember a time when you were ever single. I thought maybe we were just—”
He didn’t let her finish. His anger burned bright, but he quickly pushed it aside. “I’ve been single more than you’ll ever know,” he said gruffly. “And for the record, I’ve never done this. I’ve never felt the need to be with someone the way I need to be with you. I’ve never lived with a woman, and I think we can both agree that’s what we’ve been doing for the last several weeks. And it was never weird and there was never a time when I wished you weren’t here.”
“Carter—”
“I’m serious, Em. Even before we started sleeping together, I genuinely enjoyed being with you.” He caressed her cheek. “The thought of going back to work next week has me in knots, and that’s never happened before. I’ve never taken this much time away from my restaurants.”
“You’ve been busy with the construction here,” she reasoned and Carter couldn’t help but smirk. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“If you think the only reason why I’m still here is because of construction, then you’re crazy.”
Her brows furrowed a bit before she seemed to understand. “Well, that and the cookbook project.”
But he shook his head. “Wrong again, brainiac,” he said softly, teasingly. “You’re the reason I’m still here. You’re the reason I haven’t gone home. And you’re the reason I’m still working on this damn book. I could have had it done weeks ago and I would have been okay with the guilt my mother threw at me over it.” He paused, scanning her beautiful face. “The only reason I’m still here instead of in one of my restaurants is you.”
Her eyes went a little wide again as she gasped softly. “But…I don’t… We never…”
Confusion was an adorable look on her, he thought. “It doesn’t matter what we did or didn’t do before. I’m only concerned with what we do from now on.” He swallowed hard, unable to believe just how terrifying talking so honestly about his feelings could be. “I know we both have jobs and commitments that aren’t anywhere near one another and I have no idea how to make it all work yet. What I do know is that I want to figure it all out with you.”
“I want that too, Carter. I really do,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “Are we crazy? Is this just too bizarre for us to think about?”
Shaking his head, he told her, “No. It’s not crazy. It makes perfect sense. We’ve never been able to stay away from each other—not while we were younger, not while we were competing against each other for everything when we were in school. It just took us a while to figure out what to do with all those feelings.” He pulled her in close. “Personally, I’m a big fan of what we’ve been doing with them lately.”
Her laugh wrapped around him and had him smiling. “Me too. But—”
Now he laughed. “I knew you were eventually going to find something to argue.”
“I’m not arguing.”
“But…?”
Before answering, she gave an exaggerated eye roll. “But you can’t possibly think this has been going on since—since high school. That’s crazy.”
“You’re wrong. I mean, I’m not gonna lie to you, Em. You made me crazy with all the competitiveness, but what you never knew was, well…” Just tell her. “I always wished things could have been different. There was a time when I tried to ask you out and—”
“Oh my gosh!” Her hands flew to her mouth before she stepped away from him. “You’re just saying that. I would have remembered if you—”
“I tried,” he persisted. “We were working on the history project in Mr. Winslow’s class, junior year. I came over to your house because it was quieter than the school library. There were pages and pages of notes scattered all over your kitchen table and we were eating—”
“Brownies you picked up on the way over,” she finished for him.
He smiled because she remembered. “That’s right. You mentioned how much you loved the bakery over on South Main, so I stopped there and picked up a couple of brownies for us. For a few minutes we sat down and talked—not about the project or school or anything serious. It was the first time we’d ever done that and I kept thinking…I wanted to do that more with you.”
“Then why…?”
He shrugged. “I chickened out. I was afraid you’d laugh at me and tell me I was being a jerk or…I don’t know. Something.”
She was quiet for several moments before admitting, “I probably would have thought you weren’t serious or that you were teasing me. After all, why would the most popular boy in school want to ask me out?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, come on, Carter. Be serious. You dated all those…popular girls.” She shuddered. “It was borderline cliché.”
“Hey! That’s a little unfair. And you were popular too, Em. Don’t try to pretend you weren’t.”
“It wasn’t the same!” she countered. “I was studious, not sexy!”
This wasn’t an argument he was going to win.
But he had one more thing to say.
Stepping in close to her again, he said, “Believe it or not, it was your intellect t
hat was the most appealing. You’ve always been beautiful. Whether you want to believe that or not is up to you, but it’s the truth. You just never tried to use your looks to get attention.”
And before he could say anything else, one of the timers beeped and he needed to pay attention to their dinner—to make it the best one yet for her.
Because, he was finding out, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Emery.
Even if it meant preparing an ordinary meal like meatloaf.
* * *
“That was amazing!”
“I know, right?”
“I mean, I knew it all smelled really good, but it was so much better than I imagined.”
“I can’t believe you’re surprised.”
“Well, trust me. I am.”
Emery laughed. “Carter, you can’t seriously be this surprised! You know you’re an amazing chef, so stop fishing for compliments!”
Standing, he tossed his napkin on the table and walked over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “I’m not fishing! I’m genuinely…surprised!”
And honestly, so was she.
For weeks she’d watched her cocky chef swagger around the kitchen, boasting about whatever it was he was making, and not once had she seen the look of pure delight on his face like she was seeing right now.
“You know, if this was on the menu in one of your restaurants, I’d be tempted to eat there.”
His bark of laughter was infectious. “Right. Because that’s what I should do—a junk food and comfort food restaurant. I mean, that would be…” The words trailed off and he instantly sobered before practically sprinting over to the living room to grab his notebook.
“What are you doing?”
He shushed her as he took his seat and began making notes. He’d done this several times before that she’d noticed—he’d get an idea and then go deep into thought while he wrote it all out. No matter how many times she encouraged him to use his laptop and type it, Carter was old school and seemed to take great pleasure in hand-writing his thoughts.
A Dash of Christmas Page 17
