“It’s my house,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
She gave him a saucy look, then peered into the box. “Oh my gosh.” She withdrew a handful of crayon drawings on the type of oversized paper kids used when they were learning to write with dashed and solid lines on the bottom and space at the top for pictures. An expression of happiness and longing washed over her. “I can’t believe he kept my drawings.”
Carson took in the crayon drawings of people, a house, and things he couldn’t discern, and he read the words scrawled on the bottom. “My family. Tawny Faith Bishop.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I still think you have the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you. I always felt like having my mom’s name as my middle name made her an even bigger part of me.”
“I know. I remember you telling me that.”
She looked at the drawings with a small smile. “I used to confuse my teachers, because I told them my mom lived with us until I was in the second grade. They must have thought I was crazy since she died the year before. But at home? She was everywhere. My father didn’t empty out her closet for the longest time. I was always getting into her things. Wearing her scarves, traipsing around in her high heels. I don’t know how he stood it.”
“I do,” Carson said softly. “Seeing glimpses of his wife in his daughter must have made it easier. I would have done anything to have those kinds of reminders of Lorelei after we lost her, instead of the darkness we all fell into.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry it was so hard for you and your family. Why don’t you have any family photos anywhere?”
He pulled his wallet from his pocket and opened it, showing her the picture of his family he’d carried for as long as he could remember. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, shoulder to shoulder with his brothers. Behind them, their parents stood arm in arm. Lorelei was perched on their father’s hip, beaming at the camera.
“You still carry it?” She looked at the picture, running her finger over the ragged edges. “Even though I saw this in college, I still can’t get over how different you looked. You were all elbows and knees, and that hair? It’s so long.” She touched his cheek. “You still had the soft cheeks of a boy. You were all really cute. You were eight in this, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But this doesn’t tell me why you don’t have other pictures. I have pictures of my mom and dad all over my place.”
“Why do you ask the questions no one else ever has?” He put the picture away, trying to figure out how to admit the truth. Talking with Tawny had always helped ease the emptiness his little sister left behind, but she had a knack for getting to the heart of things.
“Because I see you in a way no one else ever has. If you’re still the same way you were in college, then to your friends, you’re a quiet, private guy. It wouldn’t seem odd for you not to have pictures. But the Carson I know would think he was protecting his family in some way. But why? That’s what I want to know.” She gazed into his eyes as if she were looking for the answers. “Or am I way off base? Lord knows it’s been a long time. You could have changed a lot.”
A laugh fell from his lips. “You’re gifted, Tabs. In a sense you’re right. I’m protecting someone, but it’s not them. My family includes Lorelei, and it always will. I had pictures of her up when I first moved in, but it stopped my family cold, so I took them down. But now that we’ve all started opening doors to our past, maybe it’s time to put them back up.”
He pushed to his feet and went to a chest in the corner of the room, retrieving a few framed family photos. His pulse kicked up at the sight of his family as a unit, inclusive of both Lorelei and their father. His sister had long brown hair and big, inquisitive eyes, too wise for her age. His father wore an actual smile, and Carson’s throat thickened at having lost not just his sister, but his father. He was thankful the rest of them remained close, though they’d all changed. He and his brothers were harder, more closed off, and his mother poured her heart into nurturing plants, as if they were her children.
He set the frames on the mantel, and Tawny pushed to her feet.
She looked thoughtfully at the photos. “These are all from when you were kids.”
“That’s all I’ve got that have my whole family. Lorelei died when I was eleven,” he reminded her. He reached up to the top shelf and retrieved a frame that had been facedown. “Maybe I can put this one up again, too.”
He handed her the picture of the two of them hugging. Her hand moved over her gaping mouth. “Where did this come from? Who took it?”
“Brett took it on his phone when he came up with my parents our junior year, and I had it printed. I think you were leaving to see your dad, and you came by to pick up a book—”
“Notes. I came by to pick up my notes. I remember now.” She blinked up at him with a tenuous smile. “When did you turn it over?”
“It never made it to the mantel in this house. I just couldn’t stand to put it away for good. In my other house, I turned it over right after I tracked you down, a couple years after you were married. I’d just started my business, and I was in Chicago meeting with one of Mick’s clients who was considering using our firm. I just had to see you with my own eyes, to see that you were happy. You weren’t on social media, so I looked up Keith. I have no idea what I was thinking. I went by your house and saw you two kissing in the driveway, and I knew I’d crossed a line. Some part of me had hoped you might be divorced, but…I’m sorry, Tawny. I shouldn’t have breached your privacy that way, and I never did it again.”
“It’s okay. I get it, Carson. I showed up at your family’s fundraiser uninvited and unannounced. There’s really no difference. I think the universe was telling us something.”
She wiped the dust from the picture and set it on the mantel. “I think you should definitely put this back up. Things between us are moving so fast, it’s a nice reminder that we aren’t a new couple. We have more history than most people could ever dream of.”
THEY SETTLED IN on the floor again, and Tawny began going through the box. They looked at a photo album from when she was a little girl, and she couldn’t believe how much she’d looked like her mother, even then. They found a few of her father’s work journals and Tawny’s sixth-grade science notebook. Even then she’d been meticulous about note taking.
“I remember trying to get out of doing homework so I could go read,” Tawny said as she put the notebook down beside her. “I told my father that my brain could only hold so much information in one night and that I wanted it to have room for whatever book I was reading.”
Carson smiled. “How’d that go over?”
“He heated up a pot of water and handed me a cup of sugar. The water represented my brain, the sugar was knowledge. He told me to pour in the sugar, and we stood at the stove as I poured and he stirred. Sure enough, the sugar dissolved, which he likened to the brain’s endless capacity to absorb knowledge. But he took it further, because that was my dad, always teaching. We did the same experiment with cold water, and of course the sugar dissolved slower and hit a saturation point. My father said if I didn’t continue feeding my brain, it wouldn’t react as efficiently.” She smiled with the memory. “I never tried to outsmart him again.”
Carson leaned over and kissed her. “You did better. You decided to be smarter than him.”
“You remember that story, huh?” She’d forgotten she’d already shared it with him. She’d read after finishing her homework that night, but not the fiction novel she’d intended to read. Instead, she’d gone online and researched saturation points, absorption rates, and everything she could find about the brain’s capacity to learn. That night had sparked her love of all things chemistry related.
“You’re pretty unforgettable, Tabs. Remember when I used to tell you that there was more to life than good grades and you needed to save room in your head for fun?”
“That was the pot calling the kettle blac
k, Mr. I Won’t Settle for Less Than a 4.0 Average.”
He barreled in to her, tickling her ribs and making her squeal with delight.
“Kettle?” he said. “You were right there with me, competing for the highest grades, and you know it.”
“So?” She laughed. “Remember what I said when you made those comments?”
“Let’s get the sugar,” they said in unison, and he lowered his mouth to hers.
She pushed playfully at his chest. “We’ll be late for Dylan’s if we start messing around.”
“Who needs football?” He waggled his brows as he sat up. “I get a kiss for every touchdown.”
“From which team?” She didn’t even know who was playing, but she didn’t care. She’d never watched a whole football game, and she was looking forward to getting to know the brothers who meant so much to Carson.
“Both teams.” He peeked at his phone. “We’d better get a move on so we’re not late. Let’s finish going through your dad’s stuff.”
“If you’d stop kissing me,” she teased, withdrawing a shoe box from among her father’s things. Inside were dozens of letters addressed to her father, dated from before she was born until a month before her mother was killed.
She sat back against the couch with the open shoe box on her lap, her heart banging out a troubled beat inside her. “They’re from my mother. These letters could tell me more about her.”
Carson’s arm circled her shoulder, and he kissed her temple, remaining silent. That was his way, giving her time and space to get her thoughts out.
“My father said she’d written love letters to him, remember? These are private. I shouldn’t read them.” She met Carson’s thoughtful gaze. “Why would he have left them for me when he could have gotten rid of them?”
“Maybe he didn’t want your mother’s memory to die with him,” he suggested. “Or maybe there’s something in the letters he wanted you to discover for yourself. To see your mother through her writing, instead of through his interpretation of her.”
Her pulse went crazy as she lifted out a letter and peeked into the envelope.
“A picture,” she said, taking it out. It was a photograph of her parents in front of Biology, the café where they’d met in New York City. “Look at their big eighties hair, and those clothes!”
“Your mom was beautiful, Tabs. It’s like looking at you,” Carson said. “You have her hair, her almond eyes, even her pretty nose.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love your nose.”
She smiled, warmed by his sweetness. “That’s good, because it’s the only one I have. I wonder when this picture was taken. They met in seventy-eight, when they were attending separate graduate schools. I told you this story, right?”
“You did. Your mom was in the city with friends when they met, and every year after that, they had lunch at that café on the anniversary of the day they’d met. They got married on that same day, three years later. And after you lost your mom, you and your father carried on the tradition at the café.”
“I love that you remember.”
“It’s part of you. I’ll never forget.”
He leaned in for a kiss—he was always leaning in for kisses now, which was new and wonderful, and she knew she’d never tire of it.
“Now it’ll be me and you having lunch at the café. We won’t let that tradition die,” he promised.
“I’d really like that.” She gazed at the picture of her parents, trying to suppress a wave of sadness and wishing not only that she’d had more time with her mother, but also that her mother could have met Carson. She hoped her father was watching over her and knew that she was finding her own skin again—chasing happiness instead of trying to become someone she wasn’t.
“I wish I had known my mother better so I could remember more about her,” she admitted. “I’m thankful that through my father’s stories, she always felt like she was present in our lives. I think some people might find that creepy, but my father adored her until the day he died.” She pressed the photo to her chest. “Do you think it’s weird that I grew up with a father who showed me what true love was, even in my mother’s absence, and I ran off and married someone I wasn’t really in love with just to escape feeling out of control?”
“Not at all,” Carson said, pulling her in closer. “Your father taught you how to love endlessly, the way he loved you and your mother. Fear might have driven you in a different direction, but your heart never forgot. You came back, Tabs, and if I have my way, we’ll never be apart again.”
Chapter Nine
TAWNY DECIDED NOT to read the letters yet, and to take some time to think about them. They didn’t have time to finish going through the boxes before leaving for Dylan’s, but she was no longer afraid to do so. She knew she could get through anything with Carson there to support her. If she cried, he’d hold her. If she laughed, he’d laugh with her. And if she just needed a moment—or a day—of introspection, he’d give her that, too. She wished she’d clung to that belief in college, instead of running scared.
When Barton arrived to drive them to Dylan’s, he stepped inside, bringing his woody, leathery scent with him. He handed Carson a big package wrapped in gold paper. With a friendly smile and a professional nod, he went to the curb and waited by the car.
Carson’s lips tipped up as he handed the gift to Tawny. “For you, my beautiful girl.”
“Carson…?”
He winked, and her stomach fluttered. “Open it, baby.”
“What have you done?” she mumbled to herself. The wrapping was so pretty, she didn’t want to tear it. She carefully lifted the tape from the edges and slid the box from the paper.
He took the wrapping from her hands and lifted the lid, revealing a stunning pair of black leather knee-high boots with Burberry’s signature beige, brown, and red–check trim around the calf and a gorgeous gold buckle. They matched her outfit and her camel-colored coat perfectly.
“I can’t let my girl go around the Big Apple with ankle boots when there’s eight inches of snow on the ground.”
“Carson, I can’t accept these. They cost more than my airfare to get here, and how do you even know what size I wear?”
He wrapped his arms around her, grinning down at her. “You’re welcome.”
He pressed his lips to hers, obviously pleased with himself for skipping right over her question.
One blissful kiss and she melted against him. “This was sweet of you, but you don’t have to buy me things.”
He led her to the couch and knelt before her, taking off her ankle boots and helping her on with the new ones. The soft leather felt heavenly.
“Perfect fit.”
“Thank you, but really, you don’t have to—”
He silenced her with a glare, boxing her in with one hand on either side of her. His biceps strained against the sleeves of his dark T-shirt as he leaned in until his lips nearly touched hers. “What I do for you will never be driven by what’s expected of me, so please don’t say that again, okay? I want to give you the world, but I won’t, since you seem to have a thing about receiving gifts. I’m starting slow, getting you used to the idea.” He kissed her softly. “And one day.” He kissed her jaw. “You’ll stop wondering why.” He kissed her neck, making her breathe harder. “Because you’ll know.” He pulled the collar of her sweater down and kissed her breastbone. Then he gazed into her eyes again and said, “That everything I do for you is done out of love.”
At a loss for words, she wound her hands around his neck and kissed him. His chest came down over her and his arms circled her body, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.
“Thank you,” she said as they drew apart. “They’re elegant, and beautiful, and almost as divine as you.”
He chuckled and gave her a chaste kiss. “Come on, Tabs. I’m looking forward to introducing you to my family and seeing if you’re still worried other people will find out about all those dirty things we do together.”
“You
haven’t even started doing dirty things to me yet,” she said with a smirk.
“Soon, baby,” he said cockily.
Her nerves rattled to life again. “Hold on. Do your brothers know what we used to do?”
“I told you I would never share what we did with anyone,” he said in his most serious voice. “Especially my brothers. Brett has no filter. God only knows what would pop out of his mouth at the wrong time.” His hand circled her waist as they headed to the coat closet. “Do you think I want them visualizing you in the positions I’m going to get you in later?”
Oh my. “How am I supposed to make it through the evening with that in my head?” She stopped walking and tugged him down by his shirt so she could look into his eyes. “Do not get me hot and bothered before we get there, or I will worry about it.” She softened her tone at the amusement in his eyes. “And thank you again for the boots. I love them. It was thoughtful of you to buy them for me. I’m just not used to people buying me things, but they’re gorgeous, and they feel like they were made for my feet.”
“Kind of like how my cock is made for your—”
“Carson!” She swatted him, loving his playful side as much as she loved his naughty side.
“Oh,” he said, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “You meant no dirty talk, either?” He grabbed her ass. “I thought you only meant I should refrain from touching you in a sexual way.”
He chuckled and helped her on with her coat.
“Don’t tease me. This feels like finals week, where I know in my head that I understand the material, but the wrong answer could obliterate all my hard work.”
He tugged her against him and framed her face with his hands. “Tabs, take a deep breath.”
She did, and she focused on his serious expression rather than her racing heart.
“Listen to me. You’ve spent years trying to outrun us, and you couldn’t do it any more than I could. No matter what anyone says tonight—and my brothers will probably make sexual comments and innuendos, because they’re guys and that’s what they do—they’re only fishing, okay? Mick knows I fell hard for you in college, because he helped me pick up the pieces after you married Keith, but that’s where it ended. Nobody knows what we did, what we do, or what we might do in the future except you and me.” He brushed his thumb over her jaw. “I promise you, if something inappropriate is said, I will intervene. I will protect your privacy, and our intimacy, with everything I have. Okay?”
Bad Boys After Dark: Carson (Bad Billionaires After Dark Book 3) Page 11