I’m not sure if it’s the exercise we just completed or if he enjoys the praise, but the most beguiling smile spreads across his handsome face. “Thank you. It means a lot to me,” he says as he squeezes my hands in his three times.
My heart warms seeing his smile and feeling his hands in mine. This moment—his vulnerability—feels pivotal in our friendship. Needing to ease the tension, I ask, “Do you mind if I drive us up to the cabin?”
He chuckles at that. “I can’t think of anything better than being your passenger princess while you drive my truck. I’ve got a playlist ready. Be prepared to be serenaded by yours truly.”
“I can’t wait to hear you sing T-Swift off-key the whole way,” I joke. And it is a joke, because I’ll take Carson singing off-key every day of the week over what I just witnessed.
Our overnight bags ended up being a good call. We met up with Kenna and Griffin after he proposed to grab Cadence so they could celebrate just the two of them.
Once we returned to Carson’s parents’ cabin for the night, we got Cadence ready for bed, and she has been out like a light for about half an hour.
“Knock, knock,” Carson announces as he taps his knuckle on my open bedroom door from our adjoining Jack and Jill bathroom.
“Come in,” I answer.
“What are you up to?”
Shutting my laptop, I set it on the bedside table and say, “Nothing much. What about you?”
“Same. I was wondering if you wanted to play a game with me.”
“What kind of game?”
He shrugs. “Like Cribbage or Sequence. Or we could play Scrabble. Though I’ll probably kick your ass.”
“Oh, you’re on, Golden Boy. I’m not sure if you know this, but I have an English degree.”
“And I’m not sure if you know this, but your fancy degree doesn’t dictate which letters you pull in Scrabble. You may very well get fucked over by a two-letter word like ‘za’ or ‘qi.’”
“In our household, we always had a minimum of three-letter words to prevent my brother from winning like that.”
“Sounds to me like you were coddled growing up. In this household, we’re cutthroat. So buckle up, Super Nanny, you’re about to get your ass handed to you.”
“Such poetry you speak, my lord,” I tease him because, after seeing his vulnerability earlier today, I just want to make him smile.
“Austin,” he warns. “What did I tell you about you calling me that?”
“Something about it gets you excited. I’m hoping if I can accomplish that, you’ll be too distracted to play ruthlessly against me.”
“You play dirty.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” I shoot him a wink, and he narrows his eyes at me.
“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?”
I don’t even try to bite back the laugh that slips out.
He chuckles right along with me. “Meet me downstairs in ten?”
Nodding in response, I bite the inside of my cheeks to hold back another laugh from slipping out.
The first thing I notice as I make my way down the steps is the eucalyptus and mint scent floating through the air that is similar to the bath oils in Carson’s soaking tub. I pause at the bottom of the steps as I take in the large square coffee table in the living room that is now covered by a Scrabble board, two wine glasses, two bottles of wine, candles, and bowls of snacks.
“Carson, what is all of this?” I question in wonderment. His thoughtful gestures never fail to make butterflies take flight from low in my abdomen up through my chest.
Carson whirls around from where he was lighting a candle on one of the bookshelves next to the two-story stone fireplace—the statement piece of this room.
When he faces me, he looks apprehensive, and I hate when this otherwise confident man looks unsure of himself. He clasps his hands together, fidgeting with them, before deciding to slip them into the pockets of his worn, light gray sweatpants. “Well, this is me saying thank you for what you did for me today. I’m typically the guy that others can lean on. It’s hard for me to be on the other side—to need someone else—but it was easier knowing I had you there for me.”
