Chapter 5 I Devour Tacos Like I Devour Cock Cara #3
His forehead creases as he stares at me, silent for so long I begin to think I’ve done irreparable damage.
But then he shakes his head, slow but sure, and takes my hand again.
“It’s oddly validating, actually. Is that…
weird? I was always looking for a reason for his behavior, wondering how was I responsible, and how could I change myself so that he didn’t act that way anymore. ”
“It’s not your fault, Emmett. It never was.”
He sniffs, glancing away and clearing his throat. “I think… I think I needed to hear that.”
I think back to what he said a few minutes ago, about leaving his project out to show his mom, to make her proud because it made him feel good.
And I tell him softly, “I hope you know now that you never need someone else’s praise or approval to justify feeling proud of yourself, Emmett.
At the end of the day, the only opinion of you that matters is your own.
Be proud of yourself, and celebrate every win, even if it seems small.
Life is too hard to not give yourself credit. ”
Emmett smiles. It’s broad and cheek-splitting, bright and sunny, full of wonder, appreciation, and something else… something that feels… warm. Safe. “I can’t believe I get to fuck you for the rest of our lives.”
“Oh, here we go.” I roll my eyes, reaching for the skillet, because I need energy for this. “It’s been six days, Brodie.”
He opens his mouth to reinforce his previous statement, but when his eyes move over my shoulder, he snaps it shut again. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mutters, and I follow his gaze to the young waitress and the three hulking men waiting behind her in the curtained doorway.
“We don’t have many tables left,” the waitress says apologetically, and I swear to God I can feel the rage rolling off Emmett from here.
I take in the three men, squinting as I try to place them.
The shortest has a head full of messy golden waves and bright eyes that remind me of Caribbean waters, though he can’t seem to meet my gaze.
The tallest has gorgeous dark curls and piercing blue eyes that are, strangely, filled with nothing but pity and shame.
And the third, the one leading the group—
“Carter Bucket!” I point at him, then twist back to Emmett.
“Hey, that’s your friend! Carter Bucket!
He’s on your team! And the captain too! And…
” I close my eyes, pressing my fingers to my temples as I search my memory for the names of the other two.
“Adam Lockwood and… Garrett Andersen! Em, your friends are here!”
Carter’s eyes grow comically wide. He clasps a hand over his mouth. “Whaaat? Emmett, we had no idea that you would be here. None at all.” With his hands on his hips, he nods along, taking in our table. “Wow, what a coincidence. Well, hey, we might as well pull up a table and eat with you two, eh?”
“Absolutely not,” Emmett growls out while I scooch my chair over, pat the table, and say an enthusiastic “Sure!”
Carter drags a chair over next to Emmett, grabbing him around the shoulder in some sort of half-hug, and I’m a little worried that the team is going to be without their captain soon.
“Oooh, queso fundido. Fuck yeah.” The team is definitely going to be without their captain.
He scoops a heaped helping of melted cheese and chorizo onto a tortilla chip, and right before he can drop it in his mouth, he pauses.
“Wait a second.” Vivid green eyes come to me, a swirling storm of confusion, disbelief, and utter outrage. “Did you call me Carter Bucket?”
I frown. “Sorry, do you only go by your first name?”
Silence settles around us as Carter blinks at me, his jaw slowly dropping toward the floor. Emmett’s hand goes to his mouth, scrubbing across what looks like a shit-eating grin. Garrett hangs his head, shoulders shaking.
It’s Adam who’s the first to crack, both hands over his face as laughter explodes from his chest. “She… called… you… Carter Bucket!” he howls, and Garrett dissolves into a fit of laughter, slapping his knee, Emmett’s forehead hitting the table, making it shake like an earthquake as he fails to control himself.
Sipping my cocktail, I look at Carter. His eyes are still on me, hands curled into cute little fists at his side, and I can practically see the steam coming from his ears.
“It’s Beckett,” he mutters under his breath.
I touch my ear. “Pardon?”
“It’s. Beckett. Carter Beckett.”
My brows jump. “Really? Not Bucket? Huh.”
“I…” He looks around, the poor guy a lost little puppy, and I almost feel bad for knocking his ego straight to its ass. He catches the attention of the waitress, who hasn’t taken her eyes off the boys since she escorted them in here. “Do you have a table for one?”
“Oh, come on.” With an eye roll, I grab his elbow, jerking him down to the seat beside me. “You know you wanna sit with us, you big baby.”
A sigh so big, so dramatic, it deserves to be on Broadway. “Emmett, your girlfriend hurt my feelings.”
“She hurt your ego,” he corrects, stuffing a tortilla in his mouth. “ ’Bout time someone did.”
“Whatever we’re doing clearly isn’t working,” Garrett adds quietly, and when my eyes snap to his, a grin spreading over my face, his cheeks burn bright red. “What?”
“You talk! And you’re funny!”
Oops, there go his eyes, back to his lap, but I see that small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. I’m gonna crack this guy wide open.
“Gare’s a little shy around pretty girls,” Adam tells me.
“Mmm.” I nod, swiping a tortilla chip through heaven. “So you’re extra shy around me, then. Got it.”
Emmett chuckles, then stops abruptly. “Oh, fuck.” His hands go to the sides of his face, eyes wide, a little horrified. “I think… am I…?”
“Dating the female version of Carter?” Adam winks at me. “Yup.”
“Don’t insult me like that,” I say.
Carter scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you treat your body like Christians do the body of Christ at mass. Everybody gets a taste as long as they worship at your feet.”
Carter thinks for a moment, then grins, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right, Care. I am a god to some women.”
I roll my eyes, not at all surprised that’s his takeaway.
“More like a hundred women, if Olivia’s mindless ramblings are correct.
” I distinctly remember Olivia muttering about Carter flirting with some girl behind the glass, how he needed to focus on the game, speculating that his cock must be made of solid gold for so many girls to willingly line up to ride it.
“Who’s Olivia?”
“My bestie.”
“Oh?” Carter’s brows rise, and he looks from me to Emmett. “Is she—”
“Absolutely not,” Emmett and I say at the exact same time, followed by a “Heeey!” and a high-five across the table.
“Nobody ever lets me have any fun,” Carter grumbles.
“All you have is fun,” Emmett says.
“Tacos for the—” Luisa stops in her tracks, a massive tray of tacos balanced in her hands. Her eyes narrow on Carter. “You. El diablo.”
“Luisa! I’m back!” He thumbs toward her, chuckling. “She always calls me that. I think it means something like handsome.” He takes the tray of tacos from her. “These smell amazing. Hey, Luisa, did you happen to get—”
“No, I did not order in crazy straws just for you. You are a grown man, you do not need a crazy straw for your chocolate milk.” She spouts a string of colorful Spanish as she stomps off behind the bar, and we all watch in awe as she fills a glass with chocolate milk, stuffing a—you guessed it—curly crazy straw into it before dumping it on our table.
“You make me crazy,” she says directly to Carter, her hands flying through the air.
Carter just grins at her. “You’re the best.”
I touch her arm. “I’m sorry, Luisa. Just to be clear, I’m not with them.”
Luisa points at Emmett with a threatening finger. “You better treat Cara like the angel she is, or she’ll kick your ass, and I’ll watch the door so she doesn’t get caught.”
Emmett’s face blanches. He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So sweet, Luisa, thank you.” I circle a hand around the massive platter of tacos. “So, hey, this seems like a lot of tacos.”
A slow smile creeps up her face. “You didn’t tell them, princesa?”
“Tell us what?” Emmett asks.
“Oh, sweet girl.” She chuckles, heading for the hallway where framed pictures line the walls.
“Luisa, we don’t need to do this!” I call after her. “We don’t—” I nod as she pulls two frames off the wall. “Okay, yeah, we’re doing this.”
“Cara was our reigning champ two years in a row,” Luisa says with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Emmett looks at me. “Reigning champ for what?”
Luisa places the two frames on the table, and I close my eyes so I don’t have to see myself with taco droppings all over my shirt, the empty platter in front of me, and the two devastated men on either side of me.
In both pictures, I’m giving two thumbs up and grinning like I’ve just won the New York Marathon. “Our annual taco-eating contest.”
“The prize was a thousand dollars,” I mutter. “It was worth it.” Words I told myself as Olivia held my hair back while I emptied the contents of my stomach into our toilet afterward. Clearing my throat, I hit Luisa with my sweetest smile. “Thank you so much for this.”
“No way.” Carter shakes his head. “There ain’t no way.”
“Excuse me? I broke a record the second year. Twelve tacos in four minutes and thirty-six seconds, so watch your mouth.”
“Care,” Emmett whispers, and the awestruck look on his face is truly flattering. “That’s, like…”
“Almost three tacos a minute,” Adam whispers.
“Impossible,” Garrett murmurs.
“It’s honestly not that hard,” I tell them. “You just have to open your throat and let them slide down.”
Emmett whimpers. Garrett and Adam blush.
And Carter? Carter’s already loading two plates up, counting out twelve tacos each.
“No. Absolutely not.” I wave my hands in front of my face when he pushes a plate in front of me. “I’m twenty-four. I’m not engaging in a taco-eating contest with you just to prove that I can do it.”
I ENGAGED IN A TACO-EATING contest with Carter Beckett just to prove that I could do it.
Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.
“You did so great, baby,” Emmett murmurs, one hand moving over my back, the other wrapped around my hair, holding it back as I heave into my toilet. “And you beat your record by three seconds. I’m so impressed.”
“It was”—I heave again, tears streaming down my face—“so worth it!”
“Adam said Carter’s still sulking. Hasn’t spoken at all.”
I’m not surprised. The only thing he shouted at me as Emmett led me out of the restaurant was, “I want a rematch! Best two out of three! You cheated!”
When I’m done, I take the damp cloth Emmett offers me, cleaning my face before I slump against the wall. “I can’t believe I’m spending our first date vomiting, and you’re still here.”
“Still here?” Emmett smiles, crouching in front of me. His fingers thread through my hair as he gathers it on top of my head, securing it in a knot before tipping my chin up, guiding my eyes to his. “Baby, where would I go? I am wherever you are, no matter what.”
“In sickness and in health?”
“Always.”
I snort a laugh, letting my head roll back against the wall. “I don’t know if you’re joking when you say this stuff, or if you really believe—”
“I’m going to marry you, Cara. I see my future as clear as day.”
“Yeah? What’s it look like?”
Emmett cups my cheek, resting his forehead against mine. “It looks like you.”