The House on Sunshine Corner

Home > Other > The House on Sunshine Corner > Page 13
The House on Sunshine Corner Page 13

by Phoebe Mills

He didn’t have to be a mind reader or have any of her uncanny abilities to know exactly what she was speaking about. She wanted to know how long he had left in Heart’s Hope Bay.

  “A couple weeks.”

  At the beginning, being stuck here had felt like a never-ending sentence. Something he did out of obligation to his sister and niece, a roadblock that stood in the way of what he wanted in life. And now he could admit it didn’t feel that way at all anymore. He just wasn’t sure what to do about that.

  “Not a lot of time,” Hilde said.

  “Depends on the situation.”

  Hilde steeled her gaze. “The situation is you getting involved with my granddaughter when you have no intention of seeing it through.” She paused and raised a brow. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about our quaint little town?”

  Carter clenched his jaw and gave a sharp shake of his head, not dropping his gaze from hers.

  She rolled her lips inward and lifted her mug. “I see. In that case, I hope you know what you’re getting into, because you two have been down this path before. And you know exactly how it ends.”

  * * *

  Abby didn’t want to be that girl—the one who was jealous of her friends—but sometimes that jealousy snuck out, just the tiniest bit. Of course, it would probably help if she removed herself from baby situations instead of seeking them out. But then she wouldn’t be a good friend either. Especially when Gia was in near-constant freak-out mode because of her pregnancy.

  Which was why Abby was currently surrounded by strollers and bassinets and hordes of the tiniest booties she’d ever seen. She’d thought maybe the registry would be a way to make Gia feel more in control when she was unraveling on a daily basis. She’d been quick to tell Abby that it was too early to start one—that all the advice said to begin around twelve weeks—but after Abby had oh so eloquently told her “Who the hell cares?” she’d finally relented and agreed.

  “What do you guys think?” Gia stood in front of an assortment of high chairs, scrutinizing them as if they held all the secrets of life. “Between these two, which one should I pick?”

  Abby ignored the niggle inside her that wished it was her in Gia’s shoes, shopping for her future family. One that had somehow begun to include the one man who’d never be an option. The same man who’d kissed her so sweetly—after not so sweetly rocking her world the night prior—before he’d left her bedroom only yesterday morning.

  She cleared her throat, internally shaking herself and focusing back on the present. On Gia. “My vote is for the one that transitions to a booster seat. Then you won’t be stuck buying that down the road.”

  Savannah rested an elbow on a shelf, leaning against it as she pointed a finger in Abby’s direction. “What she said.”

  Gia bit her lip, uncertainty written on her face. “That makes sense,” she said, but she didn’t make a move to scan the item into her registry, still just worrying her lip and glancing between the two choices as if it were truly a matter of life or death.

  “Gia, I love you, girl, but I’m gonna need you to move it along.” Savannah snapped her fingers. She’d passed over it around hour two and was now well into screw this territory.

  Abby laughed. “What do you think Marco would want?”

  Gia sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I have no idea. We haven’t really talked about it. Things have been so strained, it seems like all we do is fight.”

  Abby and Savannah shared a glance over Gia’s bent head before Abby put an arm around Gia’s shoulders and tugged her into her side. “What are you guys fighting about?”

  “What aren’t we fighting about? It doesn’t seem like we agree on anything for the baby. If things had gone according to plan, this was all stuff we would’ve hashed out before I was already carrying our kid. But now we’ve got to figure this out while I’m dealing with morning sickness—and afternoon and evening, by the way. Whoever named it morning sickness is a bastard. And probably never even had it to begin with.”

  “It was probably a guy,” Savannah said.

  “No doubt,” Gia agreed. “So I’ve been dealing with that, plus all my hormones have gone completely bonkers. And then there’s the normal couple stuff, like how he’s been working too many hours because they still haven’t hired another architect. And if he’s working all those hours, when are we supposed to get the baby’s room done? Since we moved in, it’s been the catchall room we’ve thrown everything into that didn’t have a place.”

  Sensing Gia was on the verge of tears, Abby squeezed her. “Hey…everything’s going to be fine.”

  Gia huffed out a humorless laugh. “Easy for you to say…You’re not the one who’s pregnant.”

  Abby felt those words like a knife to her chest, sinking deep and piercing her heart as sure as if it’d been an actual blade.

  “Gia,” Savannah said, disapproval in her tone. A tone Abby knew would’ve been much sharper if Gia hadn’t been dealing with mood swings. Savannah turned into a protective mama bear for her friends—even if it was against one another.

  On a gasp, Gia swung to face Abby, her eyes wide and apologetic. “Oh my God, Abby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Abby waved her off, pasting a bright smile on her face and letting her arm drop to her side. “No worries. I know what you meant.”

  “I just—”

  There was no reason for Abby to take it so personally, especially when Gia didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, so she interrupted Gia again. “Have you guys talked at all since the fundraiser?”

  Gia studied her for a moment before sighing and looking away. Finally, she lifted the scanner and selected the high chair Abby had suggested. “Not really. I mean, we do…It’s just never about anything important. It’s a lot of, ‘What do you want for dinner, babe?’ and ‘How was work?’ and ‘If we have sex, do you think it’ll hurt the baby?’”

  “Okay, I kind of want to know the answer to that last one,” Savannah said.

  “No,” Gia and Abby answered in unison.

  Yeah, Abby definitely knew more about pregnancy than she probably should.

  “Good to know.” Savannah guided them toward the next aisle, no doubt intent on getting this over with as quickly as possible.

  “Well,” Abby said to Gia, “I’m certainly not a marriage expert, but maybe talking is a good place to start. Instead of falling asleep watching Queer Eye, maybe you guys have a conversation about what’s been bothering you.”

  Gia sighed, her shoulders sagging. “You’re right. It’s just hard, you know?”

  Abby knew all kinds of things, but the minutia of married life wasn’t among those topics. Still, she could commiserate with her friend without question. Squeezing Gia’s hand, she said, “I know.”

  “Speaking of the fundraiser,” Savannah said, raising an eyebrow at Abby. “Don’t think I didn’t notice Carter still at Last Call when I left. What happened between you two?”

  Abby caught her lip between her teeth and pretended to be very interested in the infant bath towels Gia was scanning, giving herself a minute before she blurted out that they’d had sex and it’d been better than she’d remembered.

  “He helped me get the gift baskets out to my car, and then we hung around and played some pool.” And then she just…stopped talking. That was completely the truth—they had done all those things. If she decided not to mention the mind-blowing sex that had followed, well…her friends didn’t need to know anything more.

  If she told either of them what was going on with her and Carter, she knew they’d be concerned. They’d try to talk her out of it, but she wasn’t interested in rehashing that. She’d done it on her own enough for all three of them, and she’d already made up her mind to continue on this path and see where it led. The last thing she wanted to hear was that it was going to take her on a one-way trip to Heartacheville. Mostly because she was already well aware just how probable that outcome was.

  Chapter Fifteen

  What color do
you want, Uncle Carter?” Sofia asked as she sat on the floor in her living room, a dozen bottles of nail polish spread out around her.

  Coming over tonight to watch Sofia with Carter was one of Abby’s more ill-advised ideas. Her heart was actually in danger of combusting as she watched this gorgeous, muscled man mollify his niece by offering his hand for an impromptu manicure.

  He wore a navy button-up with the sleeves rolled up, the color setting off the vibrant green of his eyes, and the scruff on his jaw was calling to her like a siren. She remembered, in great detail, exactly how it’d felt when that rough texture brushed against her neck, her breasts, and between her thighs. And while the night he’d spent at her house had been world-rocking, she’d be lying if she said watching him here, as he painstakingly sorted through each of the colors of the nail polish Abby had brought along for the evening, wasn’t affecting her just as much.

  “I think I like this one the best,” he said without a hint of sarcasm, settling on the lavender.

  Sofia’s smile widened, and she nodded vigorously. “That’s my favorite!”

  Abby laughed from her perch on the couch, her second glass of wine settling in her bones in that way that made her feel perfectly warm and content. At the beginning of the evening, shortly after Abby had arrived to hang out with Carter and Sofia while Becca was at a charity work function, they’d started watching Frozen as they’d feasted on pepperoni pizza. But the little girl had quickly become interested in the bag of goodies Abby had brought along containing the aforementioned favorite lavender nail polish. Apparently manicures outdid Elsa and Anna.

  For most people, Abby figured a three-year-old probably served as a gigantic cock block—a wrench thrown in an otherwise intimate evening that would ultimately only function as birth control. The trouble was, for Abby, it was just the opposite. A night in with Carter and his niece, group cuddles on the couch followed by watching him be loving and caring and attentive, was her ultimate kryptonite.

  Since she was still on a mission to keep whatever was happening between her and Carter from her friends, she hadn’t even been able to talk to them about this. To ask if she was making the right decision by pursuing this casual thing she and Carter had going. She’d doubted herself enough for a lifetime, and she could use some reassurance that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. But then again, that was why she hadn’t told her friends in the first place. She knew they wouldn’t give her empty platitudes, and they’d never lie to her. Which was exactly why she’d never hear them say those words.

  As she watched Carter hold out his hand for his niece to absolutely murder his fingertips with the pale purple polish, she couldn’t help but play this exact scenario out as if it were years in the future, and this was actually her life. Her family. She knew it was stupid. She knew she shouldn’t do it. And she knew doing so was asking for nothing but heartache. But even knowing those things didn’t mean she could stop her brain from conjuring up the most optimistic what-if scenarios where Carter was involved.

  And that particular scenario was, what if this was their life?

  “Wow, peanut. You’re really good at this,” Carter said with a straight face, even as Sofia painted the entire tip of his finger, skin included.

  Sofia beamed at him. “I practice on Mommy sometimes.”

  “I can tell.”

  “One time, she got mad at me,” Sofia whispered, her head bent low over Carter’s fingers as she dipped the brush and reapplied.

  “How come?” Abby asked.

  “I sneaked a bottle even though I wasn’t a ’posed to and messed up her bed.”

  Abby cringed. “Yeah, it’s probably not a good idea to do this without your mommy or Uncle Carter knowing about it, huh?”

  “Or you, Miss Abby, right?” Sofia asked, her eyes bright and innocent and unassuming as she regarded Abby.

  Unexpectedly, a lump rose in Abby’s throat, the ache she felt over desiring this very thing sitting like a genuine presence on her chest, nearly suffocating her. Her life was pretty amazing. She had loyal, caring friends, a booming business, and a grandmother who would do anything for her. If her life were a puzzle, it’d be a mosaic of beautiful colors and patterns, fitted together near perfectly…except for a few missing pieces. And those pieces were what she wanted most—the beautiful house and attentive spouse and amazing kids.

  And she wasn’t sure when—or even if—it would be a possibility.

  * * *

  Hours later, after they’d made it partially through Frozen and Frozen II—Sofia’s interest waning halfway through both—and playing dress-up, complete with a superhero crusade, Carter had just tucked Sofia in. They’d managed to wear her out tonight, and she’d trotted off to bed late but without much argument.

  With a smile, Carter brought out the half-full bottle of wine and held it up, his brows arched in question.

  With a smile, she nodded and lifted her glass toward him. Once he’d poured the remaining wine in each of their glasses, he sat down next to her on the couch, closer now than they’d been able to get the entire evening with Sofia running interference between them.

  He rested his hand against the back of the couch, stretching out his arm behind her. “Thanks for coming over tonight. I’m sure this isn’t your idea of fun.”

  She waved him off, ignoring the way shivers rushed down her spine at the whisper of his fingertips against the nape of her neck. “I had fun. I never knew you could sing so well or that you looked so good in purple.”

  His lips quirked up at the corners, and he shook his head. “The things I do for that little girl…”

  “It’s sweet.”

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “You think so?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Sweet enough to score me enough points for a kiss?” The grin he shot her was all mischief and trouble, but she was helpless to deny him.

  She tipped her head toward him, and that was all the answer he needed. He plucked the glass from her hand and set both of theirs on the coffee table before cupping her face, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. With aching slowness, he inched his face toward hers, Abby’s eyelids fluttering shut when he became unfocused. And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, and she breathed out a sigh of pleasure. He tasted like wine, the chocolate truffles Abby had brought for dessert, and the best bad decision she’d made in a long time.

  She gripped his forearms, anchoring herself—though if to keep from floating away or from pouncing on him, she wasn’t sure. They used to spend hours making out on the couch, exactly like they were tonight, but there was something different now. Something hotter and hungrier just below the surface. Maybe because she knew exactly what was waiting for her if they moved beyond frantic mouths and over the clothes petting.

  When she was wholly and completely worked up and this close to stripping down in Becca’s living room, Carter placed one last chaste kiss on her lips before pulling back with a groan. He swept a hand through his hair, his breaths coming in pants, much like her own.

  “Christ, I could spend a whole day just kissing you,” he said, his voice a gruff whisper as he locked his attention on her lips. When he lifted his gaze, the heat in his eyes was unmistakable, as was the promise behind them—if they weren’t on the clock as babysitters, he’d have already divested her of her clothes and he’d be working them both toward ecstasy.

  The sound of keys in the lock jolted Abby, and she jumped away from Carter as if she were a teenager again, in danger of being caught by an adult.

  “Hey,” Becca said, not sparing them a glance as she strode in on her crutches, wielding them like a pro. “Ugh, I could not get out of there! Sorry I’m so late.”

  Abby glanced down at her watch, shocked to find just how close to midnight it was. Even though they’d put Sofia down past her bedtime, there was a whole lot of time unaccounted for. Well, except that the inferno raging inside her and the rough shape her panties were in said it wasn’t altogether u
naccounted for.

  “How was it?” Carter shifted on the couch, no doubt trying to hide his not-so-easy-to-conceal reaction from his sister.

  “Boring, but the event raised a lot of money, so I’ll give it a pass.” She tossed her purse on the side table. “I’m exhausted, though. I think I’m gonna turn in. Abby, you should just stay over since it’s so late.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll head home.” Abby didn’t dare meet Carter’s eyes, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of his sister’s invitation and would give just about anything to know.

  “That’s silly. There’s one hell of a storm out there. It took me ten minutes to get home, and I could normally walk that route faster, even with these,” she said, lifting up one of her crutches. Even as she did so, lightning flashed outside, and a crack of thunder shook the house.

  God, how lost had Abby been in Carter’s kisses that she hadn’t even noticed a severe thunderstorm rolling through?

  “She’s right,” Carter said. “I don’t want you driving home in that. You can stay in my room, and I’ll sleep down here.”

  Abby could’ve sworn she heard Becca snort, but when Abby lifted her gaze to meet the other woman’s, it was wiped free from everything but a serene smile.

  Carter stood and reached for Abby’s hand to tug her up. “C’mon, I’ll show you to my room and grab you something to sleep in.”

  “Thanks again for coming over, Abby,” Becca called as she strode down the hallway toward her bedroom. “Hope you get a good night’s sleep…”

  Okay, Abby definitely heard the teasing lilt in Becca’s tone that time.

  She tugged on Carter’s hand as he led them both up the stairs and to the single bedroom that took up the majority of the peaked second floor. “Did you hear that? Your sister totally thinks you’re dragging me up here to have your way with me.”

  Once they were both at the top of the stairs, Carter stepped into her, not stopping until she was sandwiched between his body and the wall, his hard, solid erection pressing against her belly and making her ache with need.

 

‹ Prev