26. Knock TwiceSnap Once
Knock Twice or Snap Once
CARTER
“Ham for you, sausage for me.” I pulled our loot out of the Breakfast Bar bag.
I almost never ate like this, except with Sara.
In high school, me, Liam and Sara had been in sports all year round, and had to eat and train accordingly.
Liam and I would trade off, picking Sara up after soccer or track practice.
When it was my turn, she got really good at begging me into sneaking her fast food with those impossibly big, brown puppy eyes, and I got really bad at saying no.
Over time, it had just turned into our thing. If there was something to celebrate or even something shitty going on, we’d hit the drugstore, grab our Gatorades and Sour Patch candy, and then get Burrito Bell, unless it was a Saturday morning, in which case, The Breakfast Bar was our go to.
This was throwing me back, only now, everything was just so much different.
I pushed her orange juice across the table, another more domestic fantasy coming to life as she sat there, flushed cheeks, wild morning hair, looking freaking adorable.
The drumbeat inside me banged on, pulsing through my very blood like a war song.
I ignored what it said, or tried to at least, while Sara sat there looking like ancient royalty, looking like she belonged on the throne of all this grandeur.
She suddenly seemed to give purpose to this dusty old excuse for a home, because if she asked me to, I’d certainly be hers to command, would swear myself to worship at the foot of her altar, day and night.
“Since you already know about my exhibition, would you mind if I stayed here through the weekend, just until it’s over?” She asked, stabbing the straw through the plastic lid of her orange juice.
My heart raced as I considered several more nights of sleeping under the same roof with her, but I didn’t miss a beat. “Of course not. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” I was going to have to buck up some serious self-control and keep my goddamn hands to myself.
It would have been one thing if Sara wasn’t… Sara.
But no, she’d been sitting on my dick like a goddamn temptress, not wearing any fucking underwear. Asking what if she wanted me to do all those dirty things I’d threatened, all while she batted her lashes innocently.
Innocent my ass, she’d sealed her request by teasing her gloriously drenched pussy right over my throbbing dick. I was freaking Houdini for getting myself out of that one.
I noticed Sara fiddling with the sandwich paper rather than eating. “Why are you home anyway?”
I cleared my throat, hedging. “I had some meetings in town.” It was partially true.
She looked utterly confused. “With who?”
“Investors,” I said quickly, taking another bite.
“That doesn’t make any sense, I thought you wanted to stay in the Air Force?”
“I do.”
She narrowed her eyes, head tilting as she assessed me. “What aren’t you telling me, Kensington? ”
“I may have had some extra time off.” That was kind of a lie.
She astutely poked me again. “I wasn’t aware the Air Force just dolled out extra time off.”
“I may currently have some schedule flexibility, due to a medical leave. Thought I’d make the most of it.” I shrugged, jamming another bite in.
“Medical leave?” Her face went pale, and it suddenly occurred to me that was a terrible choice of words on my part, considering her mother’s unknown health condition before she’d passed.
“It’s nothing bad. I just dislocated my shoulder.” I quickly reassured her through my mouthful. She nodded slowly, wheels turning, and I swallowed without chewing, adding, “I’m fine, Sara, truly I’m fine.”
“Okay.” She sort of played with her sandwich, but still didn’t take a bite.
By the time I’d finished my two breakfast sandwiches, she’d barely eaten half of hers, if that.
Oh fuck. I’d just assumed that when she’d started painting again that she’d started eating too. It was dumb logic, I knew, but in that moment, I realized it was clearly still a big problem. Thankfully, she didn’t look as gaunt as she had on her birthday, but she was still much thinner than usual.
Sara noticed me looking, and she pushed the paper over to me, waiting for me to finish her food like I always did when she was full. “You’re finished?” I asked, worry filling my chest.
“Yeah, I’m not really a breakfast person anymore.” Bullshit.
“You don’t want to save it?” I offered. “You might be hungry a little bit later.”
“I doubt it.” She leaned back in her chair and stared out the window. Damn it.
In an attempt not to make a big deal about it, I dragged the half-eaten sandwich towards me—I finished the rest of it, feeling like it was ash in my mouth. I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t .
Dusting my hands off, I leaned back in my chair and rested my arm on the back of the neighboring one.
“I really think you should tell Liam and your dad about your exhibition. I know they’d love to come.
” She groaned. “What? I’m just saying.” Why was she hiding this from everyone?
We all should be celebrating her. She deserved it so damn much.
“Please don’t tell them.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I know you don’t get it, but I really can’t handle that right now.”
“Alright.” I nodded. It wasn’t my place, but part of me wondered if maybe I should make it my place.
“It’s bad enough that Sloane told you .” She grumbled and then, getting an idea, she perked up. “Is there anyway I could bribe you not to come?”
As if I’d ever let that happen, although , there were quite a few things I could probably be bribed with right now. Not the point. “Not a chance in hell.” I grinned. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
She made a fake disgusted noise, but her eyes sparkled just a tiny bit. “I guess I can live with that.” She sipped her orange juice absentmindedly.
At least she was getting her blood sugar up.
I’d have to find a way to get something of substance into her though, some protein or carbs at least. She needed something solid to sustain her, so she didn’t faint again.
And the drinking had clearly not gotten better either.
I blew out a slow breath. One thing at a time.
Baby steps. Healing was not linear. I knew that firsthand.
She glanced up at the clock. “I should probably get ready. I have a few things I need to check on before the showing tonight.”
I looked at the time and groaned, not sure how so much time had passed so quickly. “Shit, I gotta get going too.” I pushed my chair back. “You need a ride tonight?”
“I’ll just bring a change of clothes with me and stay until the showing.”
“A ride home then.” I said, punctuating my plan with a nod. “ Don’t make plans afterwards. I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate.”
“Burrito Bell?” She laughed.
“No, something nice.”
She bit her lip and nodded tentatively. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I grinned, and for some reason, I wanted to kiss her goodbye, like it was something I’d already done a thousand times, but I caught myself just in time.
I sucked in a tight breath and tapped the back of her chair instead.
“See ya tonight.” I called, wondering how the hell I was going to get through the day with this aching feeling in my chest. I didn’t want to leave her.
I stood outside the exclusive gentleman’s bar across town and gave the password before I was permitted entrance. Even though it was ten in the morning, it was surprisingly busy as I entered the lounge.
Cigar smoke curled through the air as I passed rows of emerald-green tufted couches that were curved in half moons for close intimate conversations, under low chandeliers.
I nodded politely as I passed several groups of men who continued their conversations quietly, but watched me, as if they’d all been expecting me. If I hadn’t already been on high alert, I certainly was now.
The only woman in the entire establishment had been the hostess, and she’d clearly been dressed to appease the club members.
I grimaced, heading towards the table number she’d given me.
I wondered how my father had endured things like this, or maybe he was exactly the kind of man who enjoyed these kinds of establishments.
I’d been a teenager when he died—what did I even know about him?
Truly, when it came down to it. The thought was sobering.
“Carter.” A man with graying hair and a cigar hanging out of his mouth stood to greet me .
Richard. I gritted my teeth and looked around the table, noticing there were four other men seated, two I didn’t recognize. “I supposed I should have expected that you’d be here.”
“Have a seat.” Richard didn’t bother with introductions as he nodded to the only open place at the table.
“Where’s the Director?” I asked, very quickly realizing this was just another game of smoke and mirrors, and a waste of my time.
“Couldn’t make it.” Richard motioned to the booth, and I reluctantly stepped into the velvet-tufted section that made up one of five separate seats that curved all the way around the circular booth.
One of the men I didn’t know but recognized, motioned to the bartender and a moment later, I was served a drink. Unease prickled over me, and while the chatter across the bar didn’t change, I got the odd feeling that I was being watched by everyone in the room.
“I prefer to pour my own drinks these days.” I smiled thinly. “From an unopened bottle, if you don’t mind.”