by Jaci Burton
"What?"
"Working so hard on creating something like this. Setting down roots like you have."
"But you've traveled so much. That must be fun."
"It is. I've met a lot of great people, seen some amazing places."
He took a sip of his beer. "I sense a 'but' in there."
"No buts." None that she was going to voice to Carter. Besides, she was happy. At least she'd been happy, before she came back home.
"So you're content with the life you've chosen," he said.
"Perfectly."
"Good to know."
"Are you?"
He shrugged. "More or less. I mean, I have a job I love, doing work I've enjoyed doing my whole life. I've found a house I really like, and I'm turning it into something I can envision will make me and my future family happy for a lot of years. I have friends and family that I care about."
"I sense a 'but' in there," she said with a smile.
"You're right. I live a very full life, but there's something missing. A wife. Kids."
Her stomach clenched. She was the wrong person to have this conversation with. "And a dog?"
He laughed. "Yeah. I need to finish the backyard fence so I can at least get the dog."
"At the very least." She grabbed a coaster and put her beer on the table. "And what's holding you back on the wife and kids part? You're not getting any younger, you know."
"Thanks for noticing."
"You're welcome."
"As far as what's holding me back, I guess the answer to that is, the right woman."
The words "If things hadn't gone so wrong, you could have had me" hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't petty enough to say them. "She'll come along."
He gave her a direct stare. "Yeah, she will."
She got up. "I should go."
Carter stood. "Why?"
"I don't know." But she wasn't moving. Why wasn't she moving? And he wasn't doing anything about it, like asking her to stay. Did she want him to ask her to stay?
What the hell was wrong with her anyway? And with her feet, which weren't moving out the door.
"Come on," he finally said, helping save her from mortal embarrassment. "Let's go for a ride."
"Where to?"
"You'll see."
She arched a brow. "You're not kidnapping me, are you?"
He shot her a look.
"Okay, fine." She grabbed her jacket and he led her out the door. They climbed in his truck. "I'm surprised you're not taking the Mustang."
"The truck has butt heaters. I figured they'd keep you warm. The temperature is supposed to drop into the thirties tonight and the heater in the Mustang sucks."
"Good thinking."
He drove them out onto the highway, then a little ways out of town, eventually pulling down a side road by the river. It was a quiet overlook where people liked to launch their boats to go fishing. There was also an event area and picnic tables. She hadn't been here in years. Then again, there were a lot of places in Hope she hadn't visited in a long time.
He backed into the parking spot so the rear of the truck was facing the river, then left the radio on. Surprisingly, it wasn't Beach Boys music this time, but some nice, soft country tunes.
"Let's go sit on the tailgate. It's a clear night. We can watch the barges go by."
She got out and he opened the tailgate of the truck. She climbed on, and he sat next to her.
She stared out over the water. It was a clear, crisp fall night and the light from the moon sent a silvery sheen over the dark river.
"Remember when we came here for the fall carnival?"
She smiled at the memory. "Yes. All the rides were fun. I ate so much cotton candy I thought I was going to throw up on the Tilt-A-Whirl."
"But you stomached it anyway. You were always so tough."
She liked that he thought of her that way. "I didn't want to be left behind. You and your friends wanted to ride every ride ten times that night, if I recall correctly."
"Yeah." He leaned back and stretched out his legs, propping one boot over the other. "Frank was the one who ended up getting sick."
"That's because he smuggled in beer, trying to look like a hotshot in front of my friends." She shifted, half turning to look at him. "No, wait. He was trying to impress one of them. Laura Dusell, wasn't it?"
"You might be right about that. He wanted to look like a big shot so he stole that six-pack of beer from his dad's fridge, then hid them in his coat, taking swigs all night."
Molly nodded. "He was acting like an ass, trying to grab a kiss from her. She was turned off by his beer breath and his attitude and kept pushing him away. And then he got off one of the rides and puked right in front of her."
"Not a very impressive move, if I recall."
Molly laughed. "Uh, no. She wanted nothing to do with him."
"Some guys have to learn that lesson the hard way. But you girls didn't make it easy for us."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, please. I was like a lovesick puppy around you. I fell for you as soon as you blinked those long, dark lashes of yours."
He turned his head and gave her a slow, thoughtful stare. "Is that right?"
"Yes, and you know it. You didn't even have to try."
"Oh, believe me. I tried. I zeroed in on you the first day you hit the halls of the high school, and no other girl existed for me after that. You were the only one I thought about."
Her heart skipped a beat at his confession. "Do you still say all the right things to women?"
"No." He let out a short laugh and stared out over the river. "Trust me. No."
Then he turned and looked at her. "With you and me, it was like . . . instantaneous. Like a fireball that hit me right between the eyes. It's never been like that with anyone else."
His confession zinged her right in the heart, and hurt at the same time. It had never been like that with anyone else for her, either. But she hadn't expected him to admit that to her. Especially not now, all these years later.
She still felt it, that sizzling crackle of heat that simmered between them. It was as if could she reach between them, she'd see a sparkle of electricity, that invisible, silvery thread that still bound them. She almost expected it. She feared it, because it had consumed her back then.
Walking away from him had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. Severing the bond with Carter had nearly destroyed her. It was what had kept her away from Hope all these years. The pain of losing him--of what they'd had together--had made her heart ache every day of every year.
So what was she doing here with him now? What was she so stupidly contemplating? Reopening that door would only lead to heartbreak. Was she really strong enough to walk away from him again?
He picked up a lock of her hair, turning her attention to him. "Your brain is working so hard over there it's practically spewing out smoke."
Her lips curved. "Maybe."
"Why don't you give it a rest and stop thinking so much."
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Yeah, I definitely have a better idea."
Tempting, but she wasn't sure she was ready to take that next step yet. Sitting here with him and talking was one thing. Doing something about it was entirely different. Once she did, that wall she'd carefully erected would fall. Then what would happen?
"You used that line on me in high school," she said.
"Oh, but I'm much better at so many things now."
"So I've noticed."
"Have you?" He gave her an expectant look. An irresistible smile.
She hopped off the tailgate and took a walk to the river's edge.
Carter followed.
Fog had started to roll in, surrounding them in an eerie blanket of white smoke and sending a hush over the night.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
He positioned himself behind her and wrapped his arms around her, cocoonin
g her against his chest. She felt the heat of his body, the hard shock of how much broader he was now than he'd been in high school.
They used to hang out in the park and sit by the pond. He'd pull her onto a bench, snugging her between his thighs, with his arms wound tightly around her. She'd rest her head against his chest. The two of them could sit together for hours and not say a word, just watching the geese. She'd always been so content just being with Carter.
But they were two different people now, and their lives had moved in opposite directions. During her years away from Hope, she'd often wondered what would have happened between the two of them if she hadn't left. Would they have drifted apart anyway, or would they have stayed together?
She'd never know the answer to that, but here she was tonight, in his arms once again. And she had no idea what that meant. She had no illusions about recapturing the magic of the past, only that she wanted a night where she didn't have to think about what once was. She knew there could never be a future for them, but why not have one night? Just the present, with no yesterday, and no tomorrow to think about.
She turned in his arms to face him, and just like the past, she knew she didn't have to say anything. All either of them had to do was touch the other, feel the heat that had always emanated between them.
She was in a hooded sweatshirt but was still cold. Carter only had his button-down shirt on. And God, his body was warm.
"You're not cold," she said.
His hands drifted down her back, pulling her closer. "I'm a hot guy, you know."
She let out a short laugh. She'd forgotten how much he used to make her laugh. She'd spent so much time dwelling on the end of their relationship, focusing only on the negative aspects, that she'd let go of everything good about him.
They had so much fun together. They always spent a lot of time talking to each other. He listened, always managed to center her when her mind was jumbled and flying off in a million places.
His hands lingered, the warmth from his fingers burning into her skin, even through the layers of clothes she wore.
She lifted her gaze to his, and as he lowered his head, she closed her eyes, feeling his breath sail across her lips.
The first touch of his lips was something magic.
Chapter 17
CARTER WENT SLOW, so afraid every movement he made would send Molly running away.
He'd waited for this all night, gauging her mood, every gaze, every turn of her head, figuring that at any moment she'd take off.
But she stayed, and now she sagged against him, her hands reaching out to grasp his arms. He tugged her close and deepened the kiss, feeling the surrender of her body. He read those signs and flicked his tongue against hers, taking in the warmth of her breath, his body tightening with the need for her he'd held in check for so long.
From the first time he'd seen her on the street, everything he'd felt for her all those years ago had been front and center. But it wasn't just the past, it was now. He'd tried to ignore it, but Molly wasn't someone you ignored. She was beautiful and fiercely independent, an attractive package wrapped up in a hot body. And maybe because he knew her so well, he was drawn to her in a way even he couldn't explain.
Maybe he didn't want to. All he knew was he was tired of fighting it.
No more. Now it came rushing forward, and it was all he could do not to pick her up and carry her to his truck, throw her down in the bed, and take her right there.
Instead, he smoothed his hands over her back, and felt her shiver.
He pulled away. "You're cold."
She tilted her head back. "Cold is not what I'm feeling right now."
"You're shivering."
"Maybe a little."
He took her hand. "Come on."
He led her back to the truck, started it up, and got the heater going. Not for him, of course, because he was plenty hot.
"Where to?" she asked.
"Not to your place. It's a little crowded."
She let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Let's not go there."
He made the drive back to his house a little faster than intended. He didn't want to seem too eager, but he didn't want to destroy the mood between them, either. Things between him and Molly were precarious enough as it was. One wrong word, one look, and he was sure she'd run.
He pulled into the driveway and went around to her side to open the truck door for her, but she had already climbed out. She slid her hand into his hair and lifted up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. He lingered there for a minute or so, content to feel her body against his.
It had been a long damn time since he'd just . . . felt her there. It was a good feeling, but he was also getting hard, and they were in his driveway.
"Uh, maybe we should take this inside."
She looked down at what was quickly becoming his obvious desire for her. Then she lifted her gaze to his and offered up a wickedly sexy smile.
"Maybe we should."
Okay, so she wasn't going to change her mind this time.
He had to admit he was pretty damn happy about that. Neither a cold shower nor taking his erection problem into his own hand sounded like a good option to him. Not when this beautiful, hot woman nestled her body against his. He wanted her. Just her. And he wanted her to know just how much.
He led her inside the house and shut the door. Molly moved into the living room, shedding her hoodie before rubbing her hands together to ward off the chill from outside.
"Do you want some coffee?" he asked.
She turned to face him and shook her head. "No. I want you to warm me up."
"I can do that." Taking quick strides, he made his way over to her and drew her against him, wrapping his arms around her back. He pulled up her shirt to slide his hands over the warmth of her flesh.
She shivered. "Your hands are cold."
"They'll be warm in a minute." He bent and teased her lips, coaxing her to open for him.
She did, rising up on her toes to fit her body closer to his. He palmed her butt, loving the feel of her curves. His hands might be cold, but the rest of him was hot as Molly moaned against his mouth, sliding her hand around the nape of his neck to hold on to him.
He wanted to lie next to her, to feel her all over, and not with all these damn layers of clothes in the way. He grabbed hold of her thighs and hoisted her, carried her down the hall and into his bedroom and deposited her on the side of his bed. He pulled away from her only long enough to close the shutters, then he came back.
She was sliding out of her shoes, pulling off her socks, and she stood to unbutton her jeans.
"That would be a lot more fun if I was the one doing it."
Her hand stilled. "Okay."
Molly's breath caught and held as Carter took her zipper between his fingers, his knuckles brushing the bare skin of her stomach as he drew it down. She tried to remember if she was wearing decent underwear today, but her mind had gone suddenly blank because she was staring up at his beautiful face and all she could think about was how could he have possibly gotten more good-looking over the past twelve years?
From far away, he was gorgeous. Up close, devastatingly handsome, and as he tugged at her jeans and started to draw them down her legs, she remembered how they used to fumble at this, so in a rush to get at each other that there had never been any finesse.
Now, though, he took his time, gently giving her shoulder a push to sit on the edge of the bed so he could pull off her jeans. He smoothed his palms up her ankles and calves, then spread her thighs, using his fingers to tease her through the silk of her panties. Just a whispered breath of a touch, but enough to make her arch, to want, to need what he offered.
She could barely breathe. Having him touch her so intimately after so long felt so familiar, and yet as if he'd never touched her before.
"You're so beautiful, Molly. Your skin is so soft, I'm almost afraid to touch you."
She took in a deep breath. "I'm not fragile, Carter. And I definitely want your
hands on me."
His lips curved, and he swept one finger over her hip bone, before reaching for the hem of her shirt to lift it over her head, leaving her wearing just her bra and panties.
Oh, right. She'd worn the matching red ones today. Good call, since they were kind of hot.
Carter stood and looked down at her, raking his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, definitely beautiful. I mean, you always were. But now. Wow."
Now it was her turn to smile, warmed by his obvious appreciation of her. "Thank you. Now how about we get your clothes off?"
"Good idea." He started to reach for his shirt, but she got up on her knees and laid her palm on his chest.
She leveled a smile at him. "This would be a lot more fun if you let me do that."
His gaze went dark. "Okay."
She unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off and tossed it to the side, sucking in a breath as she admired his washboard abs and broad shoulders. He'd always been well built, but nothing like this. He'd broadened--she'd discovered that when she leaned against him. He'd filled out in all the right places. Not too muscular, just . . . perfect.
She swept her hands over his exposed skin, taking her time to map her way across his chest, letting her fingers slide down his stomach, feeling every inch of muscle.
She stopped at his jeans, lifted her gaze to his, keeping her focus there as she undid the button, then drew the zipper down, her hand brushing against his sizeable erection. He was breathing hard, but kept his eyes on hers and didn't say a word.
He was communicating plenty with his eyes and with his erection.
She crouched down and pulled his jeans from his hips, letting them drop to the floor. He kicked them aside and she looked up at him, offering a smile.
"Wow, Carter."
He grinned, then pulled her up to sit beside him. He drew the straps of her bra down, bending to kiss her as he undid the clasp. All play was over as her bra disappeared and suddenly his hand was there to cup her breast, his fingers toying with her nipple.
She gasped, arching into his hand, wanting more. And she got more, as he swept her onto her back, then bent and put his mouth on her, sucking her nipple in. He flicked his tongue over her until she was squirming under him, tangling her fingers in his hair to hold him there so the maddeningly delicious sensations wouldn't stop.
He teased her, tormented her with his mouth, and at the same time moved his hand down her rib cage and over her belly, sliding his fingers into her panties to cup her sex.