But I didn't delete all of the crazy drunken messages that I'd sent to Carter.
Instead, I took one last, deep breath, trying to convince myself that this step into the unknown was the right thing to do.
And then I hit CANCEL on the delete all prompt - and turned the phone around, holding it out to Carter for him to take from me...
Chapter Twenty-Seven
*
For a second, Carter didn't move. His eyes moved back and forth, from his phone in my hand as I held it out to her, up to my strained face. "What's this?" he asked.
I kept holding the phone out to him. "I'm giving it to you."
His eyes flicked again down to the phone's screen. "But you didn't delete any of your messages that you sent me."
"No. I didn't."
Carter finally accepted the phone from me, and I lowered my arm, but he didn't look down at the screen yet. "I don't understand," he said, his eyes still on me.
"I'm not sure that I really do, either," I admitted with a sigh. "But look, you want to talk about us? Well, embarrassing as they are, I think that my drunken, rambling messages from last night pretty well sum up how I feel towards you." I tried to put on a smile. "And at least you know that they're honest, that I'm not lying to you."
He still didn't look down. "So you really want me to read these?"
"Just try not to judge me too harshly, okay?" I asked of him, still making a half-hearted attempt to keep my voice light. The tears were back in my eyes, but I blinked furiously a few times, trying to keep them from running down my face.
Carter's features softened. "Becca, I'm not going to judge you for anything, no matter what you texted me. Come on, you know that."
I nodded, but I felt a lump growing in my throat that prevented me from speaking. Carter looked at me for another moment, and then carefully set his phone back down on the counter once again.
"Come here," he offered, stepping forward and opening his arms to me.
I stepped forward, into the comfort of his embrace, letting his hug tighten around me. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they came dripping out of my eyes, a few of them soaking into the man's spotless white shirt and probably leaving stains. Carter just held onto me, even as my body started to shake a little from crying.
"It's okay, I promise," he murmured to me, his hand rubbing gently against my back.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, I managed to draw a deep, albeit still somewhat shaky, breath. I stepped back, reluctantly liberating myself from his hug - although part of me wanted to keep his warm arms around me.
"Now read them, before I start crying again," I commanded Carter, nodding towards the phone still sitting on the counter.
He smiled at me one last time, and then reached over and picked up his cell. "I suppose I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? So that I'm not reading them in reverse order?" he asked.
"Sure." I shrugged. "You'll just get to see me grow increasingly drunk and incoherent as they go on."
He glanced up at me. "How drunk are we talking?"
"I had a full bottle of wine in my fridge at the start of last night, and an empty one sitting on my counter this morning," I answered. "And I feel like the wine was a lot stronger than is typical. Or maybe I was just a lot more emotional than usual."
"So pretty drunk, at least by the last few messages." Carter gave me one last smile, maybe in an attempt to reassure me, and then looked down at the phone as he started reading. I moved over to plop my butt down in the chair behind the counter as I waited for him to read through them all.
As he read through the texts, his thumb slowly moving to scroll down, I saw Carter's expression change, first to incredulity, and then through a whole range of other emotions that I couldn't quite place. At one point, if I didn't know better, I would have thought that he was doing his best to hold back laughter! I sat there, watching and waiting, feeling anxious and on the spot but with no way to distract myself from the agony of waiting. Whatever he thought of me after reading through all of these, well, it was out of my hands now.
Finally, however, I couldn't bear to stay silent any longer. I licked my lips, cleared my throat, and then, even though Carter was still reading, started talking.
"Look, I really do like you," I stammered out. "I know that my messages were just sort of babble, and that I've been putting you off before because I wasn't sure if I was ready to move on from how my last relationship failed, but I just wanted to tell you that-" I stopped myself, well aware that I was babbling, but not knowing the right words to say.
Carter looked up at me, lowering the phone, and gave me one of his heart-melting smiles. "Don't be scared, Becca. Just tell me."
He moved around the counter, over to my side, as I took a deep breath and tried to stabilize my scattered thoughts. Dropping down to one knee, he lowered himself down to my sitting height so that he could gaze into my eyes without having to look down. His hands reached out and caught mine, gently holding them without squeezing too tightly.
"Just say it," he urged me, his brown eyes warm and trusting.
I opened my mouth. "I really like you!" The words burst out of me in a rush, but it was like pulling the plug on a dam - once I started, I couldn't seem to stop. "You're amazing, and sexy, and totally out of my league, and I hate that I have any sort of doubts about you at all! I know that you're not Barry, but I'm scared. But at the same time, when I talked with de St. James and Richard, they kind of missed their chance because they didn't talk, so now I'm scared that I've waited too long and missed my chance, scared of talking to you and of not talking to you, and I don't know-"
Babble, babble, babble. Why couldn't I seem to just stop? My eyes begged Carter to do something, even as my mouth kept on running. "And I probably just spilled everything last night, which is way more than you want to hear, but now I'm afraid that I might be scaring you away, when you just wanted something light-"
Finally, Carter tightened his hold on my hands, drawing me off of the chair as he stood back up. He pulled me up to my feet as well, drawing me into his arms. "Shh," he whispered to me as he hugged me.
Thankfully, the hug helped me finally stop my babbling mouth, although I felt my whole body shaking. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and my legs wobbled as I stood, as if I'd just finished running a long race. If it wasn't for Carter's arms around me, helping to hold me up, I probably would have slid bonelessly down to the floor.
"Shh," he murmured again to me. "Becca, just take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?"
He loosened his grip slightly so that he could look down at me, and I forced myself to stop shaking long enough to draw air into my lungs.
"There. Good job. Now, listen closely." One of his hands slid under my chin and guided it up so that I was gazing up into his face.
"Becca, I like you," Carter said simply, smiling down as his face shone. I felt the big breath that I'd just pulled in catch in my throat, but he kept on talking, holding me up so that I wouldn't fall. "Everyone's a little crazy, but I happen to like yours. I didn't want you to be teasing me along, not moving forward - but I'm ready to take the next step together if you are."
His hand caught at mine, interlacing with my fingers as he gave my palm a squeeze. "Together."
I felt a little lightheaded, but I ignored the feeling, hoping that it would pass. I knew that I was smiling, surely, but my lips felt almost numb. "What's the next step?" I asked him.
His smile widened. "How about this: Becca Grace, will you officially, exclusively, go out with me?"
"Officially? Exclusively? What, are we back in middle school?" I joked, even as my heart soared inside my chest.
"I mean, if I had to guess from some of these text messages..." Carter mercifully let this comment trail off, although I still balled up my free hand into a fist and whacked at him. "Hey, I'm just joking!"
"Not funny," I told him, even as I kept on smiling so widely that I felt like the top of my head was about to fall off.
He shrugged. "Agree to disagree. In any case, you still haven't answered my question."
I nodded. "Yes, you dummy. Of course I'll go out with you!"
"Exclusively and officially?"
"Don't make me punch you again," I warned him.
He laughed. "I better just go for a kiss before I botch things by saying something crazy, huh?"
"If you don't, I will," I said, reaching up and looping my arms around his neck.
With a smile still on his face, Carter leaned in and kissed me. This definitely wasn't a chaste little kiss, either - he pulled me up against him, and my lips eagerly parted as his met mine. His tongue flicked out, brushing lightly against me, and I met it with my own, tasting him, wanting to devour him and keep on licking over every inch of his body...
When we broke apart, both of us were out of breath, Carter's chest rising and falling heavily against my own. "I'd better go update my Facebook status to reflect that we're in a relationship together, before you change your mind," he commented.
"I really wasn't kidding about that punching thing," I fired back, despite my silly, sappy, almost stoned looking grin. He really wanted me! We were dating, an item! I really did feel like I was back in high school, like the football quarterback had just asked me out to prom. "Are you always going to be making this many jokes?"
"Probably more," he confessed. "So, it sounds like de St. James agreed to let you sell his art?"
I nodded, wondering why Carter was suddenly turning the topic of conversation back to the gallery. "Yep! He and his partner Richard were just in here signing the papers when you came in."
"And I suppose that you still need to give the good news to your uncle?"
Another nod. "Why are you asking about this, though?" I wondered. "I mean, this isn't why you're dating me, is it? You just want access to some of de St. James' statues for your buildings?"
"Yes, that's totally it," he said, rolling his eyes comically at me. "No, I'm just wondering what else you have to do today before you close the shop down early."
"Close the shop down early?" I repeated, confused. "Why would I want to do that?"
Carter's smile at me grew so sultry and hot that my undergarments practically burned themselves to ashes as my skin flushed. "Because, as soon as you've finished that call to your uncle, I'm taking you back to my house."
Oh my god. "But the gallery is supposed to stay open until five-" I began, even as my mind filled with wonderful images of Carter taking me into his bedroom, kissing me, atop me with his big muscles exposed as we moved together...
"I guess it will just have to close early today." He winked at me. "Either that, or I'm going to have to start listening to some of these voicemail messages on my phone..."
I lunged for my cell phone, frantically scrolling to my uncle Preston's number. "Hi, Uncle," I stammered out as soon as he picked up, not even giving him a chance to exchange pleasantries with me. "Listen, I just wanted to pass on the good news - de St. James just agreed to partner with our gallery! More details to follow. Look, I've got to go, but I'll talk to you later! Bye!"
Even as I lowered the cell phone from my ear, Carter's hands were already around me, sweeping me, up as he carried me away. "Took you long enough," he murmured in my ear before switching his attention to nibbling at my neck.
I barely managed to turn the key in the lock on the front door before Carter towed me away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
*
I'd seen Carter's house before, but each time I returned to it, I still had to take a moment to reconcile it with my image of the man. Carter always seemed so cool and suave that I couldn't help but picture him in a classy, expensive penthouse apartment at the top of a downtown building somewhere.
Instead, however, he owned a small but comfortable house in the suburbs, surrounded by big, sweeping trees that were all well over a hundred years old, with an angular Victorian roof and perfectly painted wooden siding. The inside of the house looked just as clean and well-maintained as the outside, with immaculate rugs and furniture sets that looked straight out of a designer's photoshoot.
Normally, I'd spend some time inside marveling at Carter's sense of style - but not today. Today, Carter swept me inside, through the living room, and up the main stairs to the second floor without even giving me a chance to catch my breath.
"Carter! Where are we going?" I gasped out, as he half-carried me up the stairs.
"To here," he answered, pushing a nearby door open - and revealing paradise on the other side.
I gasped again as we stepped into the most incredible, awe-inspiring bedroom that I'd ever seen in my life, either in person or on television. "This- this is-" I stammered, unable to even make a full sentence.
He nodded, his arms once again sliding around my waist. "Yep."
Even between kisses, I kept on looking around in amazement. Carter's bedroom was huge, easily twice the size of my own. An absolutely gigantic bed stood in the middle, with a sturdy leather-covered, padded headboard and four posts rising high into the air at the four corners. Huge windows stretched across two of the four walls, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight even through the half-drawn gauzy white curtains. The floor had carpet down on it, but Carter had added several thick white fur rugs which looked deep enough to swallow most of my foot if I stepped onto them. A loveseat sofa stood near the windows, offering up the perfect place to relax and read a book.
But my eyes kept on returning back to the bed.
"California King," Carter told me, following my gaze. "With a memory foam topper. It's the most comfortable thing you've ever felt - go on, try it."
I stepped into the room, sinking down into the mattress. "Oh my god," I groaned out. "This is amazing." I flopped backward onto the bed, throwing my arms out wide as I landed on the surface. It felt like resting on top of a cloud.
A minute later, Carter dropped down onto the bed beside me, although the mattress easily absorbed the impact of his landing; I barely even felt him land. "I know that I'm not supposed to stay in bed, that I need to get up every morning and head off to work," he said, "but it's tough sometimes. I occasionally think that I need to make my bed a bit less alluring."
"No way, don't do it," I replied immediately, squirming a little on top of the wonderful mattress. I never wanted to leave here again. Maybe I could just insist on staying here, keep on ordering pizza to be delivered until my bank account ran dry...
Carter propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a smile. "Comfortable?"
I just smiled back at him, reaching out to wrap my hands around his neck. "Tell me that you like me," I begged him.
His smile widened. "I like you, Becca Grace. I like you very much."
"Good." I pulled him closer. "Now show me."
The smile never left his lips, but he did that trick with his eyes where they went, in an instant, from soft and warm to hot and smoky. Moving up further above me, he crouched above me on his hands and knees, leaning in to kiss me powerfully. I arched my back, my hands feeling the muscles in his arms and shoulders shift as he held himself up above me. I slid my fingers around to the buttons on his shirt, doing my best to undo them. Desire and lust made my fingers clumsy, however, and I had to struggle with the little buttons.
Finally, however, Carter's shirt dropped open, and I greedily ran my fingers down over the texture of his chest, feeling the swell of his pectoral muscles, the regular striations of his abs. Carter drew in his breath with a gasp at the shock of my touch, but then kissed me with renewed fervor, his hips pushing down against me. Inside his pants, I could feel his hardness throbbing, his need for me growing in intensity.
"God, Becca, I've wanted you like this for so long," he whispered to me, as he rolled sideways, pulling me with him, atop him.
I opened my mouth to answer, to tell him that I had dreamed about having him take me like this, but Carter's hands on my bare skin as he pushed my shirt up stole the words from me. Instead, I
just writhed on top of him, loving how his big, broad hands easily moved my clothes aside, how he held me, squeezed me, caressed every inch of my body.
In a moment, my shirt was tangled up around my armpits. I sat up a little to slide it off, and Carter didn't waste an instant. His hands next went to my bra, which seemed to give up the ghost on its own at just the lightest touch.
"You don't know how much I've thought about this moment," Carter whispered up to me, his voice husky as he cupped my breasts. "How much I've imagined it."
I grinned down at him, although my smile was a bit unsteady as he slid his thumbs across my bare skin. My flesh popped up into goosebumps at his touch, like his fingers carried an electric current. He drew me in close, nuzzling against me as I leaned forward to smother him.
"As good as you imagined?" I asked him.
His stubble tickled my chest as he replied. "Better."
His mouth found my nipple, and he drew my breast into his mouth, biting down with just enough force to set me off. I almost cried out, and my hips ground down against his waist. I felt him beneath me, hard and pulsing and begging to be released, but he held back, taking his time and focusing on kissing me, tasting me, exploring every single inch.
I pulled off my clothes, giving myself over to him, but he kept on moving slowly, teasing me as he strayed towards my warmest and most intimate places - but then pulling back, just before he finally reached his destination. I growled down at him, even as he incited me towards mindlessness. He just smiled back, continuing to explore, to dangle the temptation of release in front of me only to pull it away at the last second.
Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. My hands slid down over his bare chest, down to where his belt still strained to hold back his erection. My fingers were clumsy with desire and need for him, but I wrenched the belt off, unzipped his pants, felt his hardness spring out into my pants.
This time, Carter was the one to gasp at the touch of my fingers around him. "Careful with that," he panted, even as his hands greedily grabbed for my pants, tugging them down and off of my hips. "It's dangerous."
Sculpting Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 2) Page 17