28. Who Turned Up The Heat?
OLIVIA
Tipping my head back, I blink up at the man in front of me. Slowly and five times because I still think I’m dreaming.
“Carter?” My gaze flickers to the hockey bag on my front porch, the sticks, the coffee-brown leather weekender bag hanging from his shoulder. “What are you…you’re…here?”
Popping the buttons of his wool coat, I slide my hands inside, pressing my palms to his warm chest, as if I need to feel him to know he’s real, that he’s really standing in front of me.
“You’re here,” I repeat slowly. My eyes lift to his amused ones, and I launch myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as I crush myself to his body. “You’re here.”
“I’m here, Ollie.” He nuzzles his face into my hair as he holds me close. “Flight got delayed and I thought it was too late to call but then I was miserable and I donno what I was doing but here I am.”
I stuff my face into his neck, inhaling that soothing, delicious smell I’m already addicted to. “I missed you.”
Soft lips touch my ear. “I missed you, too, Ollie. I couldn’t wait ’til Friday. I hope that’s okay.” His hands glide over my waist and to my back, cupping my ass. “Why do you have a blanket wrapped around your ankle?”
My eyes pop open as I start unwrapping myself from Carter’s body.
He sets me on the floor and, sure enough, the corner of my blanket is wrapped around my ankle.
I watch him haul his hockey bag off the porch, throwing it down to my living room floor before he tosses his coat onto a hook and kicks his boots off.
“I got tangled in my blankets,” I murmur as he loosens the tie around his neck and slips it over his head, hanging it on my doorknob. What is he doing? Is he just saying hi? Is he staying over? He pops the first three buttons on his shirt, making me swallow.
“I’m starving.” Fingertips sear my skin as he grips my hips and presses me into the wall. “For you.” His mouth covers mine, coaxing it open, and his tongue meets mine for a slow, heated sweep. “And for food. You got any?” Twining our fingers, he leads me down the hallway and into the kitchen.
I’m fixated, watching as he tugs his shirt from his pants and rubs his hand over his rippled torso, checking out the contents of my fridge. He glances over his shoulder, hitting me with a dazzling smile as his gaze coasts down my body.
“Would you get rid of that damn blanket before you hurt yourself? If I have to take you to the hospital tonight, it’ll be because I impaled you too hard with my cock and fucked you into a coma, not because you tripped on that fucking blanket and broke your ankle.”
Well then. That’s one way to turn up the heat in here.
And I’m taking too long, apparently, because Carter bends and unwraps my ankle.
“There. You’re safe.” He turns back to the fridge and pulls out my leftovers from dinner. Prying the lid off, he inhales with a moan. “Fuck, this smells so good. Can I?”
The second I wrap my fingers around a fork for him, he yanks it from my hand and digs in, and I watch him hoover it up like a damn vacuum. I don’t think he’s even breathing, just shoveling my Cajun chicken pasta into his mouth.
I shake myself out of whatever trance I’m in, smiling at the way Carter licks the fork after scraping it around the container, gathering up all the oil and seasonings. “I guess I’m eating cafeteria food tomorrow.”
He halts his licking, peering up at me. “This is your lunch?” He slams it down.
“Aw, Liv. Why didn’t you tell me that?” Scooping me up, he sets me on the counter and pulls my legs around him, stuffing his face in my neck.
“I ate your lunch. I’m so sorry. But it was delicious so I’m not that sorry. But still, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I push him backward so I can pat his belly. “You’re a big boy. You need your food.”
“I need you ,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine. “And as much as I love you in my clothes…” His fingers dip beneath the hem of his hoodie that I’ve been living in, brushing against my skin. “This hoodie needs to fucking go.”
It’s on the floor a second later, and everywhere his gaze touches singes my exposed flesh.
“This tank top,” he growls, sliding one finger into a hole that’s dangerously close to my nipple. Don’t ask me why I don’t throw out my ratty clothes. There’s nothing better for lounging around in than holey, lived-in clothes. “I fucking love this tank top. But I’m gonna ruin it.”
“Carter—”
My words die with the rip of the thin material as he tears it apart, his grin both delighted and proud.
My skin erupts with goose bumps as the cool air dances over my flesh, making me shiver, and Carter watches.
He picks up my hand, examining my fingernails, which are an interesting shade of purple-ish blue, though they have no nail polish.
His brow furrows as he glances up at me. His own shoulders shake with a shiver, and he rubs his hands up and down my arms. “It’s fucking freezing in here, Ol. Can I turn up the heat?”
He’s on the move before I can tell him not to bother, and I hop off the counter to follow him to the front hall, stopping to pick his sweater up off the floor and cover myself back up. Humiliation heats my cheeks at the face Carter makes when he finds the thermostat.
“Forty-nine? Ollie, it’s only forty-fucking-nine degrees in here!”
My gaze drops to the floor as he starts smashing around on the buttons. “That won’t work.”
“What do you mean it won’t work? Why does it say heat mode off? It won’t let me—” He breaks off with a groan, swiveling my way.
“My furnace is broken.”
His brows jump. “Broken?” When I nod, he skims a hand across his jaw. “For how long?”
“Um…” I scratch my temple. “A week or so.” This time , I add in my head.
“A week? Olivia! You can’t—that’s not—” His head wags as he cups my face. “Fuck. That’s too cold for you, Ollie.”
“Hence the outfit.” I gesture at my bundled body. “And the blanket wrapped around my ankle.”
“Where’s your furnace?” He points in question to the door that leads down to the basement. “Want me to take a look?”
I grab his hand, stopping him, because Carter doesn’t wait for anyone, which means that as soon as the question left his mouth he was already halfway to the door. “You can’t fix it. My brother already looked at it. It’s been in and out since last winter. I need a new one.”
“Oh. Are you…are you going to do that? Replace it?”
My ears burn and I can’t look at him. I shift on my feet and sink my fingers into the bun on top of my head. “I’m saving.”
“You’re saving?”
Tears of embarrassment prickle my eyes, and I look away before he can see. “I can’t afford it right now. Please drop it.”
“I—”
“If you’re cold, Carter, you’ve got five fireplaces at home to warm you up.”
The corner of his mouth quirks. “Seven.”
“What?”
“I have seven fireplaces.”
Heat rushes up my neck, pooling in my cheeks. “I’m sorry I don’t have any,” I whisper as I move by him.
“Hey.” His fingers close around my elbow before gliding up my arm, and his palm wraps around the nape of my neck as he gently pulls me back to him. His gaze holds nothing but concern. “I’m gonna need you to tell me why you got so upset back there.”
“Because you said—”
“I know what I said. I asked you if you were going to replace your furnace.” He watches me take my lower lip between my teeth. “Are you embarrassed that you can’t afford it?”
I focus on his chest, the flawless skin that’s peeking out from his opened buttons. Even in the middle of winter, it’s such a perfect shade of sunset gold.
“Look at me, Ollie.” He pulls the tip of my thumbnail from my mouth, where I hadn’t noticed it migrated, and brackets my chin between his fingers, forcing my gaze to his.
“You never need to be embarrassed about that. I’m not judging you.
I know you work hard, and I know you’re doing the best you can.
” His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “I’m proud of you. ”
My heart thuds quietly in my chest, and something in my belly tightens at the sweet words, the compassion he holds in his steady gaze.
“It’s hard not to compare myself to someone like you,” I admit. “I know we’re on different playing fields, but everything you have is so beautiful, so incredible, and—”
“Including you, Ollie. You’re so beautiful, so incredible, all of you. Don’t you get that everything else doesn’t compare? I’d trade it all in for you.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my cheek on his chest and breathe deeply. “I like your fireplaces. All seven of them.”
Carter chuckles, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I want you to be warm, Ollie. That’s all. I’m sorry I made you feel bad.” He twists us back and forth. “Plus, I’m gonna snuggle the shit outta you tonight and I run hot, so you won’t need all these clothes anyway.”
“You’re staying over?”
His expression says duh but his mouth says, “All I wanna do is fuck you into tomorrow and fall asleep with my girlfriend in my arms.”
Damnit, there goes my heart again, kicking up from a soft, steady thrum to a wild hammer.
Judging by the barely perceptible pink tint painting his cheekbones and the way he’s pulled his lower lip into his mouth to gnaw on it, I’d say this exceptionally large man standing before me is currently playing shy.
“Girlfriend?”
He nods, scratching at his head. “Is that okay? I know I want to be with you. I know we’re compatible.
I don’t need time to see if this will work, if I’m serious about you.
I already know all that. I want you to be mine and I don’t want to share you with anyone else.
The guys said we weren’t exclusive until we had this conversation and that you could date other people, but I don’t want that.
I don’t want you with anyone else, only me. So be mine. Please.”
My hand slides along the stubble lining his jaw. “How are you single?”