by J. S. Scott
I rolled my eyes as I clung to his muscular shoulders. “Blackmail?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
“I forgive you,” I said with a smile. “So does this make us even now?”
He’d been pretty damn nice about me slamming into him, and then had even stuck around to help.
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “A guy’s nuts are a pretty intimate thing. But I guess we can call it even.”
I smiled broader, even though I was hurting. “Thanks for this,” I said softly. “I feel terrible.”
The poor man had already hoofed it to the perimeter of the park, and showed no sign of slowing down.
“We’ll get you fixed up, Brynn. I promise.”
He thought I was talking about my pain and not my embarrassment. “I’ll be okay. It’s just an ankle.”
I rested my aching head against his shoulder. My entire body hurt, but I wasn’t about to inform Carter of that.
“I thought you used the gym,” he said.
“I like to be outside. I decided to take a run instead. What were you doing here?”
I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes, hoping that the pain in my head would go away soon. But Carter’s masculine scent taunted me.
It wasn’t difficult to find myself wishing that my legs were wrapped around his deliciously ripped body for a far different reason.
Like it or not, I was so attracted to Carter Lawson that even though I was in pain, I couldn’t control my lustful thoughts.
“I needed to clear my head with a run,” he finally answered. “Now I’m kind of glad I was here. If you hadn’t crashed into me, it would have been somebody else.”
He was probably right. There were enough people present that I would have eventually ran into something or someone that would have stopped me. I was just grateful that it wasn’t a fast-moving bicycle. That probably would have done more damage.
Strangely, I was actually happy Carter was here, too. It would have been incredibly awkward had this happened with a complete stranger.
At the moment, he was my hero.
“I’m glad you were here, too,” I said softly, realizing that I truly meant it.
Brynn
“It still doesn’t look good,” Carter said with a frown as he knelt beside my couch and plopped another ice bag on my ankle. “It’s really swollen.”
I didn’t mention that he’d barely given the previous one a chance to start melting before he’d gone to the freezer to make another one.
He’d been so damn nice that I was actually starting to like him just a little, and that was something I definitely couldn’t afford to do.
But really, what guy carries a woman on his back to get her to a doctor? And then brings her home in a limo, picks her up again to get her up to her condo, and hangs out with her to make sure she’s okay?
No man I’ve ever met.
“It’s just a sprain, Carter. I’ll live,” I told him.
“The doctor said you need to stay off it for at least a couple of days, more if the swelling doesn’t go down,” he argued.
My injuries were minor. The cut on my head was small. Apparently head wounds just bleed a lot. And my ankle was only a bad sprain.
But I had to admit that there was something kind of sweet about a man who fussed over things that weren’t that big of a deal.
“I’ll rest it,” I promised. “You can go ahead and go. I took enough of your time today.” It was afternoon, and he still hadn’t left.
“I’m not leaving,” he informed me as he stood up. “Someone needs to take care of you. What if you need something? You can’t walk on that ankle right now.”
“You don’t need to stay with me,” I said, my tone sounding a little bit harsh because he’d caught me off-guard.
Carter had dashed back to his condo to shower, and he’d returned in less than ten minutes. I’d been surprised that he hadn’t still been dressed for the office.
He was wearing a pair of jeans and a sea-blue t-shirt that looked amazing on him.
It was funny how much more approachable the guy looked when he was dressed casually.
Honestly, there was a small part of me that did want him to stay. Not because I needed assistance, but because it was nice having him around. Granted, I never would have wanted to get near him again if he hadn’t shown another side of himself this morning. But now that I knew he could be a decent person, I was sort of intrigued.
“Don’t you have to be in the office?” I questioned as he moved toward the door.
“Lawson is going to function just fine if I’m not there,” he answered as he plopped his gorgeous jean-clad ass on my sofa. “Some things are more important than work.”
The look on his face told me that he was a little stunned that he’d said those words. He appeared as if he was still trying to figure out why he had.
“What were you doing in the park?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve been running there for a long time.”
So he wasn’t the type of man who had to get into a gym. But it was obvious that he did that, too. Nobody had a body like his without pumping a little iron.
“Thank you for what you did,” I said, knowing it was beyond time for me to tell him that I appreciated everything he’d done for me. It had been my fault that we’d collided in the first place. I should have left my cell in my pocket where it belonged.
He reached for the glass of iced tea that he’d set on the side table as he responded. “Did you think I would just leave you lying in the dirt?”
“I don’t know what kind of person you are,” I mused. “All I know is that you kiss women in elevators.”
“I don’t,” he denied. “Just you.”
“Why me?” I asked in a husky tone.
“I don’t know,” he said vaguely. “Maybe I just find you incredibly kissable.”
I rolled my eyes as I reached for the Diet Coke that Carter had gotten for me. He met plenty of women, and I had no doubt he scored pretty often. It wasn’t like he needed to approach any woman in an elevator, whether he found her kissable or not.
“So do you like what you do?” he asked, changing the subject. “Being a model?”
I shrugged. “Most of the time,” I told him. “It’s made me a lot of money so I could invest, and I’ve traveled all over the world. I couldn’t have had all the experiences I’ve had if it wasn’t for my career.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” he said.
“I can’t be a model forever. I’m twenty-nine years old. I have to think about the future now.”
“That’s not exactly elderly,” he joked.
“Models have a short shelf life,” I told him.
“And what kind of future do you see?”
I shot him a curious look. “Is this a job interview or casual conversation?”
He shot out questions like he was interviewing me for a position at Lawson.
“I guess I haven’t had a conversation with anybody but people in my business for a while,” he admitted. “But I really want to know.”
Our eyes met, and I could tell he was serious. Obviously, Carter liked to control his conversations, but his earnest expression told me that he was interested in hearing what I had to say. “I’m trying to start my own fashion line. My friend Laura and I have a small boutique downtown. We’re still developing the complete collection. It’s a work in progress. Eventually, we’ll have to scale up, but I don’t think either one of us knows how to do it. And it’s going to be costly, so we’re taking it slow, and learning while we go along. Both of us still have modeling commitments.”
“I could help you,” he offered, his tone earnest. “I’ve kind of got some experience at scaling up a business.”
I laughed. “I’d say you definitely know
what you’re doing. Lawson’s timing was always perfect. You and your brothers always seemed to know when it was time to take a leap forward. And thanks for offering. When we’re ready, I might take you up on giving us some advice.”
“If you let me take you out to dinner, I’ll tell you whatever you want,” he said with a sly smile.
Oh, God, he’s really charming when he wants to be.
His lazy grin made me smile back at him. “We’ll see,” I answered cautiously. “Right now, I really need to get a shower. I’m a mess.”
I hadn’t even changed out of my running clothes, and I was pretty sure that I was stinky.
He set his glass back on the side table. “I’ll give you a hand.”
He rose, closed the distance between us, and scooped me off the couch.
“Carter, I can hobble in there,” I squealed.
“No need,” he replied. “Just point me in the right direction.”
I guided him to the en-suite bathroom attached to the master bedroom. He lowered me to the ground slowly as he said, “Don’t put too much weight on it, and don’t stand up for too long. You need to get that ice pack back on and sit your beautiful ass on the couch tonight.”
I was breathless just from being close to him, and I hated it. I wasn’t the type of woman who got excited over a guy. I’d cared about some, and slept with others when I really wanted sex, but I didn’t get twitterpated over a ripped body or being close to a male. For the most part, men had come and gone from my life fairly quickly. I’d tried a long-term relationship once, but it hadn’t turned out well. After that, I kept it pretty simple.
But Carter got to me for some reason. I didn’t understand the connection or the gnawing feeling in my stomach when I inhaled his masculine scent, but I couldn’t deny it was there.
“Thanks,” I said hurriedly, trying to distance myself from him as soon as my feet hit the ground.
“You need clothes?” he asked huskily.
“I can handle it. I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”
The last thing I wanted was for Carter to start rummaging through my underwear drawer. It was much too intimate and personal.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he turned and strode out of the bathroom, and through the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Disgusted with myself, I turned on the shower and then stripped. Some of the tension in my body drained away as I stepped beneath the warm shower stream.
Maybe it had been better when I hadn’t liked Carter.
Now, I was starting to like him. How could I not after all the things he’d done for me this morning?
Yeah, he was uptight and businesslike, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Carter Lawson than met the eye. What he’d done to help me out proved it.
I still had a feeling he was a fraud, that he hid a large part of himself inside, and only let people see what he wanted them to see.
Like recognizes like. There was a huge portion of myself that I never let people see, either.
Maybe that’s why I could spot those characteristics in him.
After I finished my shower, I stepped out, wondering if I was imagining that Carter was something he wasn’t.
It could all be in my head. I was attracted to him, therefore, I had to justify the crazy feelings I experienced when I was with him.
Honestly, I had no idea why it even mattered. Carter was being sweet to me after I’d taken a tumble. It wasn’t like we were dating or planning on dating.
I moved to the bedroom and quickly dressed in a fresh pair of yoga pants and a clean white tank, doing very little to my hair except pulling it back in a clip.
When I made my way back to the living room, I limped quickly to the couch, unwilling to find myself hauled up against Carter’s body again.
“What are you doing?” I called out as I caught sight of Carter in the kitchen.
“Dinner,” he answered simply, his voice easily carrying from the kitchen to the living room due to the open floor plan of my condo. I could see him moving around at the counter.
I flopped back down on the sofa, and picked up the fresh ice bag that he had obviously left there for me. “You’re cooking?”
He emerged from the kitchen carrying two plates and some napkins. “I don’t cook, and you wouldn’t want me to try. It probably wouldn’t be edible. My assistant dropped off pizza.”
I took one of the plates from his hand, and grabbed a couple of napkins. The tantalizing aroma hit me almost immediately. “God, I’ve missed pizza.”
“You don’t eat it?”
I shook my head. “Not usually. My body doesn’t like carbs, even though I do. I love pizza, but I don’t have it often.”
He took his place on the couch. “But you’re going to eat it, right?”
I inhaled again, my eyes already devouring what I knew was an amazing pie. It had come from one of the best pizzerias in or near downtown. “Yes,” I said with a sigh.
I picked up a still-warm piece, my mouth watering. After another long sniff, I opened my mouth and let myself take a bite of the forbidden food. I couldn’t help the small moan of pleasure I let out as the Italian flavor exploded in my mouth.
“This is amazing,” I told him as soon as I swallowed.
Carter had already started on his second piece, but he was watching me as he devoured it.
We ate in silence for a few minutes: me savoring my food, and Carter wolfing his down.
Once I’d downed the second piece, I put the plate aside, even though he’d heaped it full. “I’m done. I have to control myself.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I love food,” I explained. “But I have to keep fitting into my current size for my job.”
“I’ll never understand why models have to be so damn thin,” he grumbled.
“By modeling standards, I’m not thin,” I informed him. “I’m actually bigger than most, so I stay fit. At one time, I was two sizes smaller. But I got tired of starving myself to death. So I decided I needed to get to a healthy weight and stay there. And if my clients refused to accept that, I’d just leave the modeling field altogether. Luckily, they didn’t drop me. But I have to watch it.”
I was a very healthy size six, and my body felt like my own now that I wasn’t trying to be what the industry wanted me to be.
“I doubt a little pizza is going to make a difference,” he observed. “Hell, I’d rather work out more than give up my cream cheese dogs.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You actually eat those? They’re disgusting.”
In my opinion, cream cheese and hot dogs didn’t mix, and I’d never understood why people in Seattle ate them.
He dropped his napkin on his now empty plate. “Have you tried them?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t knock them until you’ve actually tried them,” he advised as he stood. “They’re as addictive as Dick’s cheeseburgers.”
I smiled at him. “Eat a lot of junk food?”
“All the time,” he confessed. “I like to eat.”
If he didn’t work out so much, I had no doubt that Carter would be sporting a belly.
But he didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body, which I found completely unfair since he ate anything he wanted. He was all ripped and toned muscle.
He took my plate into the kitchen, and returned a few minutes later.
As he took his seat again, I said, “I owe you, Carter. Thanks for taking care of me today.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” he argued. “I kissed you in an elevator, remember?”
“That’s a little bit different than hanging out with me all day, and making sure that I’m doing okay.”
“So you feel indebted?”
“I do, and it’s not something I’m used to.”
“Get us
ed to it,” he advised in a low baritone. “I plan on hanging out as long as you’re not able to get around. And if you’re worried about owing me, I could think of plenty of ways you can pay me back.”
His eyes were tumultuous as he stared at me, the intensity of his gaze startling.
I had a feeling that we weren’t talking about a future casual friendship.
With Carter, I was pretty sure nothing was going to be simple.
And I had no idea how I felt about that.
Brynn
“Carter is driving me crazy,” I shared with Laura while we were having coffee four days after my injury. “I can’t walk across my condo without tripping over him.”
She raised an eyebrow as she sat next to me at my little kitchen table. “And that’s really a bad thing? There are plenty of women who’d love to have a man like him camped out at their house.”
I hadn’t slept all that well the night before, so I was crabby. “I don’t want him around that much. I’m used to being independent.”
“You were injured, Brynn. He’s just trying to help. Actually, I’m starting to like him. He might be an alpha male, but I think it’s pretty sweet that he’s been here for you when you needed some help.”
Laura and Carter had bumped into each other several times during the last several days, and I’d noticed that my friend was starting to warm to the man who seemed to know I needed things before I did.
“He feels guilty,” I informed her. “He feels like he caused the whole accident, even though I was the one not paying attention.”
Laura set her mug down on the table and swallowed a mouthful of coffee before she said, “I highly doubt that’s the only reason he’s been hanging around. He obviously likes you.”
And that was the problem. I was pretty sure Carter did like me. And I didn’t understand him at all. There were scores of women who would be at his beck and call if he wanted, so why spend time with a female who wouldn’t?
“I don’t want to like him,” I admitted grudgingly.
She gave me that look, the one that reminded me of something a big sister would give her younger sibling. “Because of your past? Brynn, you can’t let your past define who you are now. It wasn’t your fault.”