by KB Winters
“Oh, thank God. You’d be surprised how many people are turned off by that,” I fired back, loving the game she’d started.
Gwen flapped a hand, still giggling. “No biggie.”
“What a relief. Since you know all my dirt, how about sharing some of your own. What do I need to know about Gwen Bristol? What am I getting myself into?”
Gwen met my eyes, a smile still playing at her lips. “Hmmm,” she started, tapping a finger on her chin. “Should I tell you? Or let you find out for yourself?”
“I think you know which way I’m voting.”
She laughed again. “Honestly? I’m very boring. I’ve spent seven years buried under books and now, I’m done with school and just buried in debt.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, hitching a shoulder. “It’s all right though. It’ll all be worth it.”
“True. Lawyers probably pay off student loans pretty damn quick.”
“Well, not the ones who work at the public defender’s office,” she quipped.
“Oh?” My eyebrow arched, caught off guard by her statement. Gwen wasn’t flashy or presumptuous but she carried herself in a way that made it easy to see her as a powerful lawyer. She’d own the court room, in her designer suits, the star of some downtown firm, eating fancy business lunches. “You’re going to be a public defender?”
She nodded. “That’s the plan once I get my test results back, at least.”
“Why would you want to be a public defender and not a partner at some fancy firm, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She smiled. “No, I don’t mind. It’s a long story, but the nutshell version is that I believe that the system is stacked against certain people and I want to be a voice of reason in the madness.” The tone of her voice was fused with passion and an edge of anger. “I’ve seen firsthand what it can do to innocent people’s lives when no one is fighting for real justice and truth.”
I leaned back in my seat, as though her strong words had blasted me back a few inches. “I think that’s very admirable, Gwen. I’d love to hear the long version of that story sometime.”
She nodded but didn’t launch into it, so I dropped it. “So you’ll be staying here in town then?”
“Yeah. I’m waiting for my test results. I should have had them over a month ago, I’ve already lined up a job with the office downtown. Not too far from here, actually. I’ve called the bar association and they kept giving me the run around, but the last time I called, they found my file and said they’d process it immediately, so now it’s just a waiting game—although at least I know it’s being worked on. And…embarrassingly enough, I’m still at my parents. I’ll be looking for a place of my own as soon as I can. What about you? You staying in Bitsburg after this season?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Another unpleasant topic. She sure had a knack for unearthing things I didn’t necessarily want to delve into. “Actually, I’m in limbo right now. I guess it’ll depend on how the postseason shakes out. My contract could be extended, or they could cut me. And if that happens…I don’t know where I’ll end up. A four-year quarterback with no real experience in the game has limited options.”
Gwen smiled as she raised her wine glass to her lips. “Then it’s a damn good thing you kicked ass tonight, isn’t it?”
Chapter Nine
Gwen
I couldn’t pin that man down. One minute he was all bedroom eyes and wandering glances. The next, he was quiet and reserved, almost like a turtle retreating into his shell. A shell I desperately wanted to break through. Throughout dinner we meandered through a handful of topics, his career, my hopes for my own, and exchanged stories from our time in college. We never circled back to talking about his family, which only made me more curious about who he really was and where he came from. But I also got the sense that it wasn’t something to talk about.
By the time the server dropped off the check, it was nearly midnight. Carson quickly picked up the tab and I bundled back into my coat, preparing for the icy blast that had only gotten worse since we stepped into the restaurant. I pulled on my gloves and tugged up the collar of my coat. “Thank you for dinner, it was great,” I said as he ushered me through the deserted restaurant. The staff all waved goodbye as we went, likely relieved to be able to break everything down and go home. I hoped they all had snow tires.
Carson pulled open the front door and we both jolted at the frosty air that poured into the foyer. “Yikes.” He flicked a button on his keys and I heard the truck roar to life. “Keyless start,” he explained. “Gotta warm her up in this weather.”
“Ready to make a break for it?” I asked, grinning up at him.
“On this ice?” He dropped a glance to my shoes.
“I can handle it.”
He flashed a half-cocked grin. “All right then. Let’s go!”
We bolted from the restaurant, sliding down the sidewalk, arm in arm in an awkward trot around the side of the building to the parking lot where his truck was parked.
We slid across the black ice to the passenger side. Carson steadied me and opened the passenger door “Ladies first.”
“Thanks,” I said, hopping into the cab. It was barely heating up and I placed my gloved hands over the vents as a blast of warm air came sputtering out.
Carson jumped into the driver’s side and flicked a couple switches. “Heated seats too.”
I laughed. Apparently, riding the bench paid pretty well.
We sat there, idling, as we waited for the fog and frost to clear from the windshield. “You gonna be okay to drive in this?” he asked, turning in his seat to face me.
I met his eyes and my mouth went dry. His eyes were a mix between grey and green but in the dark, they glittered like they were made of obsidian. During the course of dinner, I’d gotten lost in the conversation and trying to figure out what he was holding back. I’d nearly forgotten how handsome he was. But there, alone in the cab of his truck, bathed only in the light from the security light on the side of the brick building, I was jerked back to the reality that I was only inches away from one of the most breathtaking men I’d ever laid eyes on and the way he was looking at me left little doubt as to his intentions. My doubts and insecurities from outside the locker room had melted away as soon as I’d caught him checking out my ass before I took my seat inside the restaurant.
I blinked hard, snapping myself out of my dreamy musings. “Um, yeah, yeah—I’ll be fine. My dad’s SUV has snow tires and four-wheel drive.”
“Would it be too creepy if I followed you home? Just to make sure you don’t have any trouble?”
I laughed softly. “I don’t think that’s creepy. That’s actually pretty sweet. But it’s not necessary. I will promise to call you when I’m home. How about that?”
Carson smiled. “All right. How come you didn’t call after that night at the diner?”
My eyebrows flicked up. Bold question. “Call me old fashioned,” I said, smirking at him. “I like to be chased.”
He laughed, the sound rich and deep, like a good cup of coffee. “Fair enough. Although, in my defense, counselor, I wasn’t sure what your father would think of me asking for your number right there in front of him.”
I dropped my head back against the seat and laughed. “Oh, he probably would have invited you to our family Christmas dinner and put a stocking with your name on it right beside the tree. Probably in Cannons colors too!”
Carson laughed with me and I glanced at the empty seat beside us, wishing I was closer. The heat was filling the cab but I wanted to snuggle up against him and share the warmth of his body against mine. “Noted! Next time I come to the diner we’ll have to arrange that.”
I straightened in my seat, suddenly struck by a new thought. “Hey, what are you doing for Christmas? I mean…if you don’t have plans, we’d love to have you.”
Carson’s smile faltered but he quickly propped it back up. “Are you sure? That seems like a pretty big imposition.”
/> I waved a hand. “Not at all. Honestly, we’re very low key. Aunt Maggie will be there, too. And if you like her sober, you’ll really like her once she’s had a few too many glasses of my mom’s spiked eggnog. She’s a nice little church lady, but when she’s pouring rum…she doesn’t mess around.”
Carson laughed and the tightness in his shoulders melted away. “I’d really like that.”
“The rum? Or tipsy Aunt Maggie?” I asked with a giggle.
“Both.” Carson’s eyes went serious and he reached across to cab to place his hand against the side of my face, resting his thumb on my cheek. “But really, I’d just like to spend as much time with you as possible.”
There wasn’t enough oxygen in my lungs to mutter a reply, but it turned out I didn’t need one. Carson leaned closer and his lips brushed over mine. The kiss was warm and sweet and all too short. He pulled back, leaving his hand on my cheek, and locked his eyes onto mine. “I’m really bad at this kind of thing…”
I smiled. “No. I can assure you, you’re not.”
He chuckled softly. “I mean asking a girl out. I’m not Mr. Suavé, but I’m also not some asshat who’s going to break your heart should you even entrust me with it.”
I felt my eyes go wide. For a guy who claimed to not know what he was doing, he did it quite well.
“I really like hanging out with you, Gwen. I know we just met, but you’re fun. And you’re not afraid of this God-awful weather. Oh…” he put his finger up in an aha moment gesture, “and hella smart.”
My cheeks heated up. “Thank you. I like hanging with you too.”
I tipped my chin up, easily meeting his lips again. This time the kiss lingered, his lips tentatively exploring mine at first. But when I parted mine, his velvet smooth tongue wasted no time sweeping the curves of my lips and tangling with my own in a gentle dance that set every nerve on fire. Carson’s hand slipped from the side of my face and slid down my arm until he found my waist. He tugged me closer, across the center seat, until I was lost in his arms, the kiss getting even deeper. A soft moan escaped from my lips as he moved his mouth to explore the side of my neck.
“You’re amazing, Gwen,” he said, his words a warm whisper against my skin. His hands slid over my hips and I blinked a few times, trying to clear the fuzzy stars from behind my eyes.
I cleared my throat and pulled away, bracing my hands against his rock-solid chest to put some space between us. Mostly to keep myself from jumping onto his lap and stripping the shirt off his back.
Carson met my eyes, his own looking even darker than before as they went wide under the soft lights from the dash. “Let’s get you to your car.”
“Good plan,” I said, my words wavering as I caught my breath.
Going slow with a guy like Carson was going to be torture, but it was essential I didn’t lose my head and in the process, get my heart trampled over.
****
I sneaked in through the front door of my parents’ house at a little after one in the morning. I shut the door gently behind me, made sure the security system didn’t go off, and tiptoed to my bedroom. I made it halfway there before the sound of footsteps coming from the other side of the hallway stopped me cold. With a wince, I pivoted on my heels and spotted my mother in her long terry cloth bathrobe, her long auburn hair piled up on top of her head, and her rectangular framed glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Hi, Mom.”
She arched a perfectly manicured brow. “How was the game?”
Despite the fact that I felt like I’d been sucked into a time warp back to my junior year of high school, I couldn’t help but smile. “It was great. Really exciting.”
My mom laughed. “All right, tell me what’s going on with you and this boy.”
I started to protest, but she shot me one of her famous mother-knows-best looks and reached an arm out. “Come on. I just made some cocoa.”
We went into the kitchen where the electric kettle was still steaming. I sat on one of the three wooden stools at the kitchen island as my mom made two cups of instant cocoa. She pushed one across to me and I smiled down at the sprinkling of miniature marshmallows she’d placed in the foamy chocolate. “Really trying to butter me up here, huh?” I asked, arching a brow at her.
She smiled and sipped at her own mug as she leaned back against the counter.
“I don’t know what there is to say. He’s a really nice guy. It’s almost weird how normal he seems…”
“Seems?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. When we first met at the diner I didn’t know he was a football player. You know me, I’m not the type to date the jock or whatever. It’s never been my thing. My type.”
“But?”
A smile tugged at my lips and I stifled it with a long sip of my cocoa. “Carson’s kind of amazing.”
“Uh oh,” my mom replied, smiling at me even as she started to slowly shake her head. “You’re a goner. As soon as you start throwing around words like amazing, I know it’s serious.”
I laughed and set my mug down. “How could it be serious? We just met. We went on one date.”
“Your father and I only dated for three months before he proposed. Sometimes you just know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, this isn’t like that. I’m not looking for a husband. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend right now. I have so much going on I don’t see how I could add one more thing.”
“There’s always time, dear. You’re far too young to already be too busy for relationships and dates and love.”
I shrugged. She was probably right, but since getting admitted to law school I hadn’t hit the brakes. “I want to get my job secured first. Build a routine that works for me. Then I can think about inviting someone else in to share it all with. I mean what happens if I get my test results and find out I didn’t pass? Then I’d have to go back to studying around the clock, and I’d have to start my job hunt all over again. My position at the public defender’s office is based on the contingency that I pass. If I don’t…they won’t hold it for me. They can’t.”
My mom set her mug down. “Sweetheart, you worry too much.”
It was a common complaint from her and my dad. According to them, I’d been three going on thirty and had never really stopped trying to be a few decades ahead of myself.
“Maybe,” I conceded, staring at the contents of my mug. “I kinda invited him to Christmas dinner.”
“You did?” Her tone wasn’t upset, more shocked.
“He doesn’t have family in the area and I hated the idea of him being all alone on Christmas.” I didn’t want to say too much about his family, granted I didn’t know all that much to begin with. “Is that okay?” I asked, venturing a peek up at her.
She smiled. “Of course it is, dear. You know we always make too much food. I’m happy for you.”
“Well, don’t go picking out wedding dresses and china patterns just yet,” I said, swirling my cup. “It’s early.”
My mom finished her cocoa, deposited her mug in the sink, and came around to give me a quick hug. “I know, but I have a good feeling about this one,” she said.
She dropped a kiss on my forehead and swept from the room, leaving me alone with my cocoa and a whole lot of questions rolling around in my head.
Chapter Ten
Gwen
I woke up on Christmas morning in a mood that was more fitting of a small child, bursting with excitement over the prospect of finding whatever Santa might have left in their stocking. Carson wasn’t going to arrive for several hours but I wasted no time getting ready and when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, both of my parents did a double take.
My mom craned around from her place at the small kitchen island to check the large clock above the pantry door.
I laughed. “Yes, I know, it’s early.”
“Are you wearing false eyelashes?” she whispered, leaning closer to peer up at me as I rounded the island to grab a cup of coffee.
“Maybe.”
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My dad laughed from behind his newspaper.
I filled a mug, added a splash of cream from the ceramic cow by the stove, and leaned back against the counter. I held the steaming mug in between both hands, my freshly manicured nails tapping at the sides. “All right, spit it out.”
“Nothing, pumpkin,” he said.
I wasn’t convinced. I planted a fist on my hip and tried again. “Come on. What are you thinking?”
He lowered the paper and pushed his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think you look beautiful.”
My cheeks went red and my hand slipped from my hip. “Thank you, Dad.”
“So, what time is Carson getting here?” my mom asked on her way to the sink. “I’ll be putting the roast in the oven in a couple of hours. I’ll need help getting the side dishes and rolls ready.”
“No problem.”
“You sure you wanna do all that in those heels?” she asked, dropping a pointed look to the pumps on my feet.
“I’ll trade them out for slippers,” I said, giving a roll of my eyes.
The doorbell rang and my dad hopped down from his perch. “That’ll be Mags,” he said, starting for the front of the house.
My mom waited until he was out of sight and then groaned as she sank down to grab something from the cupboard by the stove. She came up with a bottle of Irish cream and proceeded to pour a generous amount into her coffee. “Guess we’re starting early today,” she mumbled, replacing the cap.
I giggled and patted her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
“Hmm.”
“Merry Christmas!” Aunt Maggie yelled, strutting into the kitchen in a Christmas sweater that featured a 3D reindeer protruding off the front. Every year her sweaters got worse and worse. I had a hunch she was going to Ugly Sweater Parties in all the nearby office buildings and buying them off the victors after they’d claimed their prize. It was the only explanation that made sense.