by Lincoln, Liz
Seth laced their fingers together and lifted their joined hands to brush a kiss over her knuckles. He squeezed her and asked softly, “You still in there?” A smile was evident in his voice, with a hint of tension. He had to be aching for his own orgasm.
She made a long sound of contentment and let a grin slowly spread across her face. Finally, her eyes fluttered open.
His faint smile widened to match her grin. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes. Carrie didn’t know exactly what she was thinking or feeling, other than deeply satiated, and she didn’t want to delve into it further. The situation between them was complicated, but this, right here in his hotel room, was simple.
Eventually he gave her a soft kiss. “The girls might decide to come back earlier than I expect.”
Carrie’s face and neck heated in a way entirely different from the heat she’d felt a few minutes ago. “Right, of course.”
Before she could scoot away, Seth’s arm draped over her middle, anchoring her to the bed. “This was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”
Awful. Terrible. The worst. Now she knew what it was like not only to kiss him but to have his hands all over her. Inside her. “Yeah.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Do you regret it?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, definitely not.”
She couldn’t stop a small smile. “Me neither.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, the touch so light she barely felt it. “But it can’t happen again.”
Carrie closed her eyes to savor the moment a little longer. “I know,” she whispered against him. “That’s the only part I regret.”
“Me too.” He nibbled at her lower lip. Then, making a sound of frustration, he rolled away. “We should get up.”
“Yeah.” She tried to keep most of the disappointment out of her voice. She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. With her back to Seth, she straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair as best she could. As swollen and whisker-burned as her mouth felt, she needed to fix her makeup before heading back to the convention center.
Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she turned back to him. “OK. I’m gonna get my key and go before this gets more awkward.”
He raised one side of his mouth. “Probably for the best.” He pushed to his feet and gestured for her to precede him to the door.
They remained silent as they walked back to the living room, which suddenly felt miles long. Seth paused by the couch, but instead of moving out of her way, he lifted his hand to cup Carrie’s cheek. A pained expression crossed his face, then he lowered his forehead to hers.
“I know you know this, but you’re really fucking sexy as Ivy. You’re always sexy, but that outfit…”
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to absorb every detail of having him so near. This would be the last time she could touch him like this. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper.
She brushed a final kiss over his warm lips, then slipped away. Without looking back at him, she opened the door to her room, slipped through it, and tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest.
Chapter 10
“I can’t make it for dinner tonight. You want to catch a movie tomorrow instead?” Carrie said into her phone as she pulled into the lot of the swimming facility.
“Sure, sounds good,” Amy said distractedly. “What’s up tonight?”
“Seth got a flat, so I’m picking up Maddie at swim practice.” She turned off the car and started across the dark parking lot, definitely not looking at the spot where she and Seth had leaned against his car when he kissed her. The same way she didn’t look at that spot every time she dropped off or picked up Maddie.
Dammit, Thursday was supposed to be her night off from the torture of visiting this lot twice in one day. And she’d really been looking forward to two evenings in a row off. She’d hoped to have enough wine while eating dinner with Amy to justify staying until well past when Seth went to bed. Carrie hadn’t seen him before he left for practice that morning, so she could go an entire day without being around him. Sure, the idea seemed torturous. But it also sounded incredible.
Ever since Chicago, all she seemed able to do was relive the feel of his hands on her body and fantasize about what could have happened. She couldn’t handle another night at home, wishing she were naked and with Seth. Or, worse, wishing she were fully clothed and cuddled against his big body, hanging out. Thank God Amy didn’t have a Friday-night date with her boyfriend.
“A nanny’s work…,” Amy said.
Carrie laughed. “I feel that.” She yanked open the door to the building. “I’ll look up movies tomorrow and text you.”
“Sounds good.”
Carrie ended the call and slid her phone into her back pocket as she rounded the corner to the hall leading to the girls’ locker room. Except it was empty, so she had to wander. She finally found Maddie hanging out in her head coach’s office.
Eric rose from his desk when Carrie stepped into the doorway. “Carrie, hi. It’s so nice to see you.” He smiled, wide enough to show off straight white teeth.
“Hi, Eric. Maddie, are—”
“Before you go, I wanted to ask you something.” Eric raised his voice to speak over her.
“Sure,” Carrie said, struggling to keep her annoyance out of her voice. She didn’t like being talked over.
“Are you free tomorrow night? I know you don’t usually come to practice on Fridays, but I was hoping maybe we could grab a drink?”
Wait, what? The swim coach was asking her out? In front of Maddie? Holy awkward, Batman. “I don’t—”
“I know it’s short notice.” Eric’s words barreled over her. Again. “If you’re busy, maybe next week? Or Saturday? Some other time?”
“My dad is always gone on Saturdays,” Maddie supplied. “She can’t do Saturdays. But she’s always free on Fridays.”
“Well, I’m not—”
“Friday, then. Does tomorrow work for you?”
Carrie was aware of not just Eric waiting for her response but Maddie as well. “I have plans tomorrow….” Nor was she interested in going out with Eric the swim coach. He seemed like a nice guy, someone she was happy to chat with briefly in her capacity as his athlete’s nanny. But she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him.
The feel of Seth’s beard tickling her cheek flashed into her head. A vivid reminder she needed to find someone she could be attracted to and go on a date with.
She and Amy should go somewhere other than a movie tomorrow. Somewhere they might meet some eligible men. Was there a nerdy singles group in town? A geek bar?
Eric’s smile faltered, but to his credit, he recovered quickly. “Next Friday?” His brown eyes roamed her face.
From her chair, Maddie looked back and forth between them.
Carrie tried to make her smile and voice as gentle as possible. “That’s really nice of you, but I…can’t.” I don’t want to. I want to want to, but I don’t want to.
“I understand.”
He did have a nice smile. And his eyes were warmer than she might expect, given she’d just rejected him. But it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she accepted a date when she wasn’t interested.
“I should…” He gestured to the laptop on his desk.
“We need to go too.” She gestured for Maddie to get up.
“See you tomorrow, Coach.” Maddie’s voice was almost as gentle as Carrie’s had been.
He gave a thumbs up as they left the office.
“Don’t want to date Eric?” Maddie asked once they were outside.
“He seems nice, but he’s not my type.” Carrie unlocked the car and got in.
“What is your type?” Maddie asked as she settled into her seat.
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Big. Blond. Bearded. Athletic. Fierce competitor and dedicated father. Amazing kisser.
Shit.
“I’ve always liked Jason Momoa,” Carrie said instead. He was gorgeous, but also seemed nerdy and funny. And she’d watched a trailer for his next movie that afternoon, so he was the first guy she thought of, besides Seth.
“Omigod, he was so great in Justice League.”
“That movie was fantastic,” Carrie agreed. Now, if she could steer the conversation to comic book movies and away from dating, that would be perfect. “I can’t wait for more of that series.”
“Big guys with long hair, huh?” Maddie’s voice was teasing.
Shit. Nice job, Carrie. “I’m a sucker for tall, dark, and handsome,” she lied. “And that wicked grin.” Things the actor did not have in common with Seth. Except tall and handsome; Seth was definitely those things. But he wasn’t dark, and his grins were always friendly. “Speaking of those movies, did you hear the latest rumors about the sequel?” she went on, in another attempt to redirect the conversation.
They chatted the rest of the drive about the latest superhero movies, and Maddie told a story about her school in Houston. As she always did, Carrie tried not to seem nosy when she asked questions about Texas. She was simply getting to know the girl she was in charge of. And since Seth was Maddie’s father, it was natural to sometimes ask about him too.
Asking simple questions didn’t mean she was curious about Seth. It wasn’t like she’d fallen asleep every night for the past ten days—but who was counting?—masturbating to the memory of their afternoon in the hotel room. The past three nights, she’d been able to rub out two orgasms by imagining where things could have gone.
Nope, she didn’t wonder about Seth at all.
* * *
—
What kind of dumbass got nervous about walking into his own house?
Probably the same kind of dumbass who made out with a woman when they had solid reasons not to get involved.
Mentally slapping himself, Seth pushed open the door and stepped into the back hall. He tossed his bag through the open laundry room door, then continued into the house.
Before reaching the entrance to the kitchen, he stopped when he heard Carrie’s voice.
“The independent variable is the one that you changed. The dependent variable is the one you’re measuring so you can see how the independent variable changed it.”
“So dependent is whether we used land or water, and temperature is independent?”
“No, you’re measuring temperature, and changing land or water. Temperature is dependent,” Carrie said with infinite patience.
There was a pause. “Oh!” Mads exclaimed. “I totally get it. The dependent variable depends on which independent variable I use. Duh. Thanks.”
“No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”
Was he imagining the hint of frustration in her last sentence? She clearly enjoyed teaching; was she still looking for teaching jobs? Maybe then…
What, she’d quit and they could immediately hook up? Never mind that she wasn’t the kind of person who’d leave him and Maddie in a bind like that. He was thinking with his dick, not his brain.
Enough lurking in the hall. “Hey, Mads.” He cut through the kitchen to where his daughter sat with Carrie, books and papers spread on the table in front of them. He bent to kiss the top of Mads’ head. “Tire’s all fixed. Sorry you had to scramble today.”
Mads shrugged. “ ’S OK. Carrie’s helping me with my lab report.”
“I heard.” Too late, he realized he’d admitted to eavesdropping. Shifting uncomfortably, he met Carrie’s gaze over Mads’ head. “Sorry I’m so late. It took both me and Lem to wrench the damn lug nuts off. A couple linemen joined in to try. It became a thing.” A macho display of strength, the group of them acting like boys. Stupid, but fun. A good way to blow off a little steam.
Carrie’s lips curled up, a warm but distant smile. The smile she’d been giving him for the past ten days—not that he’d been keeping track.
“No problem.” She stood and gathered dirty dishes. “I didn’t feel like cooking, so we ordered Chinese. I got an order of veggie delight for you.”
“Thanks, but I ate already.”
“Yeah, but you always have a snack before bed.” She opened the dishwasher and loaded in her and Mads’ dishes.
“Good point.” He ignored the warmth in his chest at the realization that she knew his routine so well. Knowing his late-night snacking habits wasn’t part of her job, yet she still paid attention. To him.
“What’s your lab about?” Seth turned his attention to his daughter, ruffling her hair.
She smacked his hand away. “Dad. Cut it out.” She managed to make dad a three-syllable word.
Carrie closed the dishwasher and started for the back hall. “I’m going to throw in another load of laundry, then head upstairs. Night, guys.”
“I’ll get my stuff out of my bag for you.” It was a dumb excuse to follow her, but he had to be alone with her for just one minute. One second.
If he were smart, he wouldn’t. He’d find a way to never be alone with her. But he’d rarely been accused of being a smart man.
In the small laundry room, Seth stood a half step closer than he would with anyone else as he scooped his clothes from practice onto the top of the washer. He couldn’t help it. He needed to be close to her.
“Thank you for covering for me tonight.”
With a rueful smile, she straightened after shoveling an armload of her clothes from the washer to the dryer. A strand of her hair fell in her face, and his hand automatically lifted to brush it away. But he caught himself before touching her, and yanked it back.
“Sorry.” He shoved the offending hand into his pocket.
“Yeah.” Her word came out a sigh.
“I do appreciate everything you do for Mads. And me. As frustrating as this is”—he waved his hand between them—“I’m glad she has you.”
“I am too. And it’s my pleasure. She’s a great kid, and you two make this an enjoyable job.”
Job. Fuck. He didn’t want to be her employer. He wanted to take her out to dinner. Maybe have a double date with Lem and his wife, Sarah.
Seth’s throat felt choked with frustration. He had plenty of experience wanting a woman he couldn’t have, but always because she wasn’t interested. He’d never been in a situation where he couldn’t act on mutual attraction.
Now, as he looked down into Carrie’s blue eyes and saw her lips part as she looked up at him, tension rippled through him. When had they gotten this close, where her chest was only a breath from his? His hand fisted in his pocket, gripping the fabric so he wouldn’t again reach for her face.
She dropped her head and rested her forehead against his chin, red strands catching in his beard. Her shoulders sank.
Following her lead, he unclenched his fist and smoothed his hand over her hair, down her back. Her hair was so soft; he wanted to tangle his fingers in it and hold her against him.
His shoulders relaxed as he curved into her. Even this simple, nonsexual touch felt so right.
A soft, contented sound escaped her as she stepped back. “I need to go upstairs.”
“You really do.” His voice was thick.
“Good night, Seth.”
He held the door for her and watched as she walked away.
* * *
—
“You almost done with homework?” Seth closed the dishwasher and set it to run.
Mads gave a grunt he couldn’t interpret. So she was playing sullen tonight. She had so many personalities these days, he never knew which version he’d get.
He sat next to her at the table, adopting a pose he hoped looked more natural and casual than it felt. Inside he pulsed with tens
ion. Sullen Mads was one of his least favorite versions.
“I’m sorry about tonight.” Not only had he missed picking her up, but he’d promised to watch the last ten minutes of practice. Her coach was going to have them doing sprints, and since he couldn’t get to her meet on Saturday, she’d wanted him to see it.
With a giant sigh, she put down her pencil. “It’s not a big deal. It’s the season. I’m used to you not being around.”
Ouch. She wasn’t wrong, but her words still stung. This had been easier when it was his parents taking care of her. He suspected that was one of the few things his daughter would agree with him on.
“Well, I’m here now,” he said, forcing his voice to stay upbeat. “You wanna pop in a movie while you finish that up? What about one of the old Batman ones you like? What’s the one with Arnold as Mr. Freeze?” And Poison Ivy, but he wasn’t going to be that obvious. Uma Thurman was no Carrie, but it was as close as he’d get.
He waited, but Mads ignored him, returning her focus to her homework. Which he should be glad about, but he didn’t appreciate her being rude. He might be MIA more often than he wanted, but he was still her father.
“Mads, I expect you to answer when I’m talking to you.”
She heaved a sigh. Did all girls her age sigh this much? “Can you stop calling me Mads and just call me Maddie like everyone else? It’s so dumb. I’m not five anymore.”
He swallowed down the hurt at her admonition. In its place, irritation rippled through him and he stood. To keep himself from pacing, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a sponge, and started wiping down the counters.
He’d been calling her Mads since she was born. It had come out the first time he held her, and he’d liked it. It was something special between him and his daughter, something no one else called her. But still part of her name, not generic like “baby” or childish like “pumpkin.”
But if she didn’t like it, who was he to force it on her? He might not know much about twelve-year-old girls, but he’d figured out enough to know she would resent it if he insisted on continuing to call her Mads.