“I didn’t. I’ve still got Ghost’s truck.” He wiped his boots on the mat before stepping carefully inside. “Oh, this is nice.”
“It needs some updates.” She closed the door. “But it’s roomy, and the neighbors are quiet.”
He nodded, surveying her living room, and the big, ugly sofa, and the kitchen, and its laminate counters, and she couldn’t feel self-conscious about it when his face was nearly serene – definitely approving.
“Where should I put–”
“Oh, just on the bar there. I’ll get plates.”
They portioned up the pasta and chicken he’d brought. Leah poured them both wine, and they sat down at her new kitchen table, across from one another. All they needed was a candle and some violin music in the background, and it would have felt like a real date.
Carter ran a finger along the edge of the table. “Not that I’m an expert or anything, but Albie does make nice-looking furniture.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Every time she ate at it, she paused to admire the intricate design of the top, the sheen of the varnish. “You bikers are all just full of surprises,” she teased.
He shrugged and speared a tomato. “Some of them, anyway.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You have hidden skills.”
His head, and then his brows lifted, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.
She realized how that must have sounded, and knew she blushed. “I was talking about football,” she said, waving her fork at him in admonishment. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Uh-huh.” He innocently went back to his food. “Though, considering I’m a sex fiend–”
“I’m never gonna hear the end of that, am I?”
“Considering you came up with it? Nope,” he said, pleasantly. A pause, and then he said, “But, for the record, as a sex fiend – it’s safe to say there are other hidden talents, too.” He shot her a wink, and a blast of heat flooded her insides.
She’d not ever allowed herself to wonder about him inthat waybefore. But she let herself wonder now, for just a moment, and the images that flashed through her mind, all promised in that smirk and that wink and the wind-ruffled yellow-gold of his hair, were specific. Graphic. Shocking, because this wasn’t a favorite actor prowling over her body, but Carter, very real, and very here, right across the table from her.
Winkingat her.
She had to get a grip.
“Um.” She reached for her wine, and his smirk widened into a true grin, straight, and white, and handsome as sin. “Stop. I’m trying to make conversation.”
He made ago aheadgesture with his fork.
“Conversation,” she repeated, after a healthy sip. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“You sure?”
“Sue a girl if she hasn’t gotten laid in a while and you look like” – she motioned toward him helplessly – “that.”
He leaned back a fraction, expression slipping. She’d surprised him, she realized, but hadn’t expected to.
It was his turn to struggle for words. “You, uh – you like the way I look?”
“Are you seriously asking that?”
He shifted a little in his seat, uncomfortable. “I guess, yeah.”
Duh, you idiot, she thought.Have you seen yourself?There was no way someone like him could look in the mirror and doubt his beauty. But he sounded skeptical, and doubt flashed in his eyes.
Maybe it wasn’t about his objective good looks. Maybe…maybe he worried whether or notshewas attracted to him.
She considered their conversation that morning, and set her fork down. Laid both hands flat on the table and held his gaze, though it left her pulse jumping and her skin shivering. “Carter,” she said seriously, “I didn’t expect this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not – invested. Yeah, I like the way you look.” Doubt on his face, still, before she said, “Mostly because I know it’syouunder the blond locks and the prom king smile.” She offered her own smile, and hoped it was enough. “I like you. The looks are a definite bonus, but they’re not the reason I came to see you this morning.”
