But there was no way was he going to knife his mistress.
“If he is, his girlfriend is going to be pissed,” Linda said. “Maybe she showed up when Bridgett was supposed to be gone or something, but now Ken’s got her on the other end of a butcher knife and claims to have never seen her before.”
Carter was glad the people at the reception hadn’t heard all of these details. There would have been a crowd on the street in front of the house in ten minutes.
“Do you still have Bridgett on the line?” he asked, turning onto Maple Street.
“Yep.”
“Tell her to have Ken stand down. I’m here.”
“You got it.”
Two minute later, he pulled up in front of the house.
He approached the front door, taking in the scene around him quickly.
There was no sign of forced entry. Which, with cheesecake in hand, would have been difficult anyway, Carter thought dryly.
But that meant she had a key, or someone had let her in.
Provided she’d come through the front.
Once he had the knife out of Ken’s hand and figured out who the hell this woman was, he could worry about how she’d gotten in the house.
“Ken?” Carter called as he opened the unlocked front door. “Bridgett?”
“In the dining room!” Bridgett answered.
Carter headed in that direction. As he stepped through the doorway, he found about what he’d expected. Bridgett was standing behind Ken, her arms crossed, looking pissed off. Ken had the other woman backed into the corner and was still holding the damned butcher knife, but at least it was at his side rather than at anyone’s throat. All Carter could see of the other woman were her shoes—black, four-inch heels—her ankles and the hem of the trench coat Linda had mentioned.
There was also chocolate cheesecake all over the floor.
Which was, frankly, a travesty.
“Knife on the table, Ken,” Carter said firmly. “Let’s get this worked out.”
Ken turned and tossed the knife on the dining room table. “Fine. But I want to make a statement.”
“Not until I do,” Bridgett said.
“Everyone gets to make a statement,” Carter said, pulling out his notebook. He leaned to look around Ken at the other woman, but she scooted to the side as he did, hiding behind Ken’s taller and wider frame.
Carter frowned. “Everyone will make a statement,” he repeated. “I assume this was some kind of misunderstanding?”
“I understand perfectly,” Bridgett said.
“No, you don’t,” Ken told her. “She isn’t here for me.”
“Was anything taken? Any damage done?” Carter asked, stepping to the side to try to get a look at the woman behind Ken. But she moved again. “Besides the cheesecake, of course,” Carter said, trying to lighten the moment.
“Oh, I’d say there’s some damage done,” Bridgett said, her voice cold. “As in the ruin of a twenty-four-year marriage.”
Carter winced.
“Jesus Christ!” Ken bellowed. “She isn’t here for me!”
“Then why the hell is she in my house in next to nothing with cheesecake, Ken?” Bridgett yelled back. “I was supposed to be at the wedding reception tonight and you were ‘working late’.” Bridgett made air quotes with her fingers. “I’m sure she just walked into the wrong house.”
“I have never seen this woman before in my life!” Ken told her. “She told you that she got the wrong house.”
Okay, that was enough.
“Ken, can you step over here please?” Carter asked.
Ken stomped to Carter’s side.
“This isn’t what it looks like. And I wasn’t going to hurt her. I was protecting my home and family. I didn’t know she wasn’t armed and there was no way I was touching her to pat her down for weapons. Not dressed like that. Bridgett would have cut my balls off. And you can’t arrest me for the knife,” Ken told him.
But Carter barely heard him.
Because Ken might not know the woman in the trench coat.
But Carter did.
“Lacey?”
She sighed and met his eyes. “Hi, Carter.”
How in the hell…
It was the wedding. Had to be. Like a spell had been cast over everything around him, making him nostalgic and soft and stupid. And fucking everything up.
Carter just stared.
But wedding spell or not, Lacey Andrews was definitely standing in front of him. In a trench coat. With his favorite dessert at her feet.
Chapter Two
“You know her?” Bridgett demanded.
“I told you I got the wrong house,” Lacey said.
“You were trying to find his house?” Bridgett asked. She turned wide eyes to Carter.
“You were trying to find my house?” Carter repeated dumbly.
Of course, Lacey didn’t know anyone else in Quinn.
The trench coat—and the reports of lingerie underneath—were definitely throwing him off though.
“Yes. I thought this was your house. I was going to…surprise you.”
Her cheeks flushed and Carter felt a stirring beneath his belt.
He’d made Lacey blush a number of times in the past.
Long in the past.
Okay, not that long. The last time had been twelve months ago.
To the day.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t realized what day it was. He’d just been staunchly ignoring it. And blaming his shitty mood on the wedding.
The wedding was part of it, no question. But today was also Lacey’s birthday.
He knew because he’d helped her celebrate it last year.
Boy had he.
And the things that had transpired since then were…unbelievable, actually. And painful. Very fucking painful.
“Why?” That was all he could come up with at the moment.
“I needed to see you.”
“Today.”
She nodded. “Especially today.”
Because she was sad. And lonely. And grieving.
He ran a hand through his hair. He’d been proud of himself for only thinking about what today it was every other hour. The day was almost over. Another three hours and he would have made it through. Without calling her or getting drunk or anything else self-destructive.
And now she was standing here in front of him.
In a damned trench coat with lingerie underneath and chocolate cheesecake at her feet.
Suddenly anger and frustration coursed through him. Neither were new in regards to this situation and how he felt about Lacey, but he’d only seen her in person once since he’d admitted the devastating truth—that he’d fallen in love with her.
He wasn’t sure how to handle facing her now.
The only time he’d seen her in person since being knocked on his ass by that unwelcome revelation had been at Garrett’s funeral six months ago.
He crossed the space between them before he’d really thought about what he was doing. He grasped her by the upper arm and started for the door. She tripped along on her heels, trying to hold the front of the coat shut and keep up with his long strides at the same time.
The sound of someone clearing their throat, made him stop.
Belatedly, he remembered that there were two more people in the room.
He looked at Ken and Bridgett. “Do you want to press charges?”
They were both staring at Lacey and him with wide eyes.
Bridgett shook her head slowly. Ken said, “Uh, no, we’re good.”
Apparently they believed that Lacey was here to see Carter after all.
“Fine.”
He started for the door again, not trusting himself to look at Lacey when they were this close.
It was bad enough that he could smell her.
She smelled like jasmine.
She’d always smelled like jasmine.
He marched her through the Logans’ front door, down the steps, across the grass,
and up the porch steps to his own front door.
He paused and dug for his keys, still holding her arm.
“Where are we—” she started.
He unlocked the door and shoved it open, nudging her through.
“Oh.”
“You almost got it right.” He was amazed that his voice sounded as calm as it did.
“Oops.”
He hit the switch on the wall, bathing the foyer in a soft light.
And finally looked at Lacey.
She gave him a small, wobbly smile.
Fuck.
He wanted her with every fiber of his being.
“What are you doing here?”
He realized he hadn’t let go of her yet, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it now either. He was only holding her arm and it wasn’t even skin to skin, but he hadn’t touched her in twelve months. Not even when they’d both been grieving Garrett. The last time he’d touched her had definitely been skin to skin and it had changed his life.
Yeah, he wasn’t quite up to letting her go just yet.
Then she licked her lips. And Carter realized not letting go of her was a huge error in judgement.
Everything in his body tightened and he had to consciously keep his hand from squeezing her arm too hard.
“I had to see you,” she said. Her voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you.”
“Or my neighbors.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“So why did you? Why didn’t you call?”
They were standing too close. He was touching her, smelling her, feeling the warmth of her body reaching out to him.
He hadn’t been this close to her since that night. That night. The best, most horrible, most amazing, awful night of his life.
“I didn’t think you would want me to come,” she said softly. “I thought showing up without warning you was a better idea.”
“I don’t like surprises.” That was an understatement.
“But you won’t throw me out.”
Her voice wasn’t wavering now. She wasn’t blushing now. She was meeting his eyes directly. Like she knew him.
And she did.
Because no, he wouldn’t throw her out. Or, more accurately, he couldn’t.
Not because he was a cop and his job was to serve and protect. Not because he was a nice guy—definitely not that. But because he was a selfish ass who wanted her more than he wanted his sanity.
Apparently.
He turned and pressed her back against the door and moved in until he could feel the length of her body against his.
“Say no if you’re going to say no,” he said gruffly.
Her breath caught, her pupils dilated and her lips parted.
“Lace. This is your last chance.”
But she didn’t say no.
She didn’t say yes.
What she said was much, much worse.
“Please, Carter.”
Lacey saw Carter’s eyes darken and his jaw tighten. She felt his fingers dig into her arm. But then he breathed in through his nose and pressed closer and she knew that neither of them was leaving that door with all their clothes on.
Thank God.
That was exactly what she needed. Exactly why she was here.
“Why?” he asked.
Just one little word.
She frowned. What? He was asking questions? She hadn’t expected him to keep talking. She squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back against the door.
He was hot and hard and there. It had been so long since she’d been held, since she’d been touched, since she’d just lost herself to good sensations. She’d been overcome by many, many bad ones in the past six months. She really needed to feel something good.
Carter Shaw was the only man who could make her feel good again.
And she really, really wanted to feel good.
“Lacey?”
She felt him start to shift back and her eyes flew open and she grabbed the front of his shirt. “No!” He couldn’t leave her.
His eyes were full of concern as he lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face. “What’s going on?”
“It’s my birthday,” she said simply. “You’re my present to myself.”
Nothing about this was simple.
And yet, it really was.
She missed Garrett and Carter. So she was here to see the one she could still see.
Carter had been a big part of her relationship with Garrett, and avoiding Carter over the past six months because he reminded her too much of Garrett had felt as if she’d lost them both at once.
It was fully her fault that she hadn’t seen or talked to Carter. She’d kept him at a distance by not calling him after Garrett had been shot and not going to him when he’d shown up at the funeral. But one word from him and she would have been in the corner in a fetal position. She’d barely been holding it together as it was. And she’d known that if she didn’t go to him, Carter wouldn’t come to her. Demanding she see or talk to him wasn’t Carter’s style. She’d known that he would leave her completely alone when she’d avoided even eye contact with him at the funeral.
But it had been six months.
And now she needed him.
She wanted the reminder of Garrett now. The three of them had always had a strange, amazing, fun, comfortable relationship. And she missed it. She ached with missing it. It had made her whole and she needed as much of it back as she could get.
The two men together had made a single perfect man. And they’d both been hers. Kind of. She’d only had Carter once a month or so when he came to town to hang out for the weekend. And Garrett had been the only one sharing her bed every night. But Carter really felt like a boyfriend when he was around. Other than the sleeping-with-other-women thing. But he held doors and bought her gifts and called her randomly from time to time and they would talk until the sun came up. It had been so…strange.
And Garrett had never minded. Nor had Carter ever seemed jealous of where she spent her nights.
While she had, at times, been jealous of Carter’s other women.
But none were serious—Carter didn’t do serious—so it was hard to get too worked up when they were never around for more than a couple of weeks. And, of course, when she was sleeping with Garrett.
She’d met the men at the same time. Literally. They’d both come up to her together at a wedding reception they were all attending. They’d been openly competing for her attention. She’d danced and drank and flirted with both of them. But by the end of the night, Carter had told her that Garrett was a great guy and she should give him her number. She’d taken that as a sign that Carter wasn’t into her for more than a one-night flirtation.
Yet he’d been around, a part of her relationship with Garrett from then on. It had never felt odd, had never felt like one too many people at dinner or in the conversation or even on the couch when they’d watched movies. She’d put her head in Garrett’s lap and her feet in Carter’s and they would snuggle like an old married couple…of three.
The guys couldn’t have been more different. Garrett had been the big, spontaneous, outgoing and fun guy. He’d been tall and blond and loud. Carter was the serious, intense, scary-intelligent one. He had dark hair and eyes and was about an inch shorter than Garrett’s 6’3”. But both men kept in excellent shape as cops. Both were wide and solid, strong. And gorgeous.
She’d always thought she had a type before she met them, but it was impossible to say which was better looking and while she loved spending time alone with Garrett, when Carter was with them things felt, somehow, complete in a way it didn’t when he wasn’t there.
It was as if the men were two halves of a whole.
And now Garrett was gone and she hadn’t seen Carter in six months.
That was wrong. Bad. She couldn’t lose them both.
She’d had everything a woman could want with the two men. Garrett had been fun and crazy and could al
ways make her laugh. He had been the one she needed to make her kick back and relax. Garrett had been the one she wanted to dance with because he would hold her close and whisper sweet, naughty things in her ear. Garrett had been the one she wanted to tell good news to. He’d whoop it up and celebrate and tell her she was amazing.
Carter was the one she wanted to talk to about her mom’s depression and the one she could talk politics with. Carter was the one she told bad news first. Carter had never whooped in his life, but he always made her feel better when things weren’t going well. He never said the words “you are amazing” but she somehow sensed that he thought so.
When Garrett forgot that she didn’t like onions on her pizza, Carter would pick them off before he served her. When Carter forgot her birthday, Garrett had it covered. With a big party. Or an even bigger surprise. Like last year…
The night the three of them had actually shared a bed for the first time. And the last.
Lacey pulled in a deep, shaky breath.
“Lacey, I know you’re hurting.” Carter’s voice was tight.
“Don’t you miss him?” she asked hoarsely. “Don’t you have this huge gaping hole in your life with him gone?”
Carter was clearly in pain when he said, “Jesus, Lace, I miss him every fucking day.”
“I need to miss him with you,” she said, not knowing what her words were going to be for sure before she said them. “I can’t do this on my own anymore. I can’t miss you both. It’s crazy for us to be apart just because he’s gone, isn’t it?”
Carter studied her face so intently that she had to wonder what he was looking for—or what he was seeing.
She loved him. It felt weird to say that without Garrett a part of the equation, but it was true. It wasn’t exactly how she’d felt about Garrett. She’d planned to marry Garrett. A girl couldn’t just fall into the arms of the would-have-been-fiancé’s best friend.
But she did love Carter. Being with him, seeing him, talking to him felt better than anything had in a long time.
“I’ve almost called you a million times,” he finally said. “I’ve missed you so damned much. I’ve worried about you. I’ve wondered about you.”
Illegal Motion: Boys of Fall Page 2