Chapter 16
CARTER
Saturday night, seven pm. Finally. I missed my girl so much it was hard to think until I saw her sweet face on the porch, my bike behind me as I walked up to her.
The evening is warm, and the sun hasn’t set yet.
It makes her face bath in an orange glow, like glitter on her skin.
She’s wearing this long, flowery red dress.
There’s lots of fabric. Too much fabric.
I can’t see enough of her because it covers her legs, but the ribbon she tightened at her waist enhances her goddess silhouette.
Her hair is down, wild and filled with caramel shadows.
I’m in my usual black jeans and T-shirt.
Makes it easier to clean off the blood. It’s kind of my uniform.
It’s been a busy week; we caught a few guys sniffing around our Prez’s wife, Mia.
Guess some gangs aren’t thrilled about us taking over Irish turf.
She’s safe, but Ash and I agreed to stay sharp on her next outings.
Wives are always the first targets. Our enemies know that’s how to hit our Prez where it hurts most. I’m glad my girl doesn’t have to deal with that.
Bodyguards don’t count. It’s who we protect that matters.
There’s a thin stripe of brown on her eyelid. Why did she do that? She’s already so pretty. She smiles gently as I saunter to her, towering over her small height and enjoying the view of her hazelnut eyes staring at me wide and dilated.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi, sweetness,” I reply, taking her hand and lifting it to my lips. I kiss the back of it, never breaking eye contact. “You ready?”
“I… The sitter is about to arrive, I was thinking, if… If you’re up to it, you could meet Noah properly since last time was…a bit rushed.” She pushes her hair behind her ears. Nervousness. She thinks I went away because I couldn’t handle meeting her son. Fuck no, I need to repair this now.
“Last time,” I clear my throat, “I left because I got surprised when I tried to…smile. It caught me off guard. It had nothing to do with Noah. I was thrilled to meet him. Really,” I deliver in one breath.
“That’s what I thought, but…why did you smile?”
A second stretches, and then another. “Guess I hadn’t seen such an innocent face in a while and it triggered me.
My first instinct was to smile, make him comfortable.
I’m used to folks being afraid of me, but I don’t want Noah to be one of them.
” I shrug, my voice blank, but at least she knows why.
I never want her to think I’m not accepting her son.
He’s a part of the package. I knew it from the start and I’ll always embrace it.
She nods, the corner of her lips rising, and looks back at her son, eating spaghetti at the diner table.
“So you can smile.” She chuckles lightly, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.
“I didn’t think I could, but…yes.”
“Good,” she murmurs, “good.” She’s about to turn, but I rest my hand on her arm and stop her, “Just so you know, the doc said it didn’t mean that I would completely recover from my lack of social cues.
I… I don’t want to get your hopes up, I…
Maybe I’ll just stay this way and have slight improvements here and there, but—”
She lifts her hand to my face and rests her palm on my cheek, her gaze drowning in mine, “Don’t change anything, Carter, I…
I like you the way you are.” I nod, frozen by her words.
And then she lifts on her tiptoes and kisses my jaw with her begging-to-be-kissed lips.
I clench my fist. The urge to grab her waist is overtaking me, but this isn’t the time.
I inhale deeply while I watch her bite her lips.
“O-okay, let’s go inside, I really want you guys to meet.
” She takes my hand, squeezing it as if she is trying to calm herself.
Her home looks even warmer at night with the numerous small lamps across the room, her colorful decor, and plants everywhere.
Noah is focused on trying to swirl his spaghetti with furrowed brows, in his dinosaur pajamas, and with tomato sauce smashed around his mouth.
“Noah,” she clears her throat “do, um, do you remember my friend?” Lana’s tone is light, cheerful even, but I catch the tiny flinch when she says friend.
And I’m glad she does, because we both know that word doesn’t quite cover it.
Yes, we’re friends. But I want more. So much more.
What’s growing between us doesn’t fit inside the lines of friendship, and I’m not planning on pretending it does.
Noah’s chocolate eyes double. He shovels another forkful of pasta into his mouth, nodding quickly as he watches me.
“Hi, Noah,” I say bluntly, trying to warm up my tone as much as I can.
Don’t be a fucking failure this time.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asks, nodding toward a chair, her chin lifting slightly to guide me where to sit. I’m grateful for her directions. It helps. Noah’s her whole world, and if I want a chance with Lana, I need to make sure this works.
"No thanks," I say, taking the seat to Noah’s right as Lana settles across from him. The three of us, gathered in this home, could almost pass for a family.
“Why are you dressed all black?” he asks, pulling his knees up just below his chin. I glance at Lana, waiting for her go-ahead to talk to her son. She nods with a light smile, her eyes slightly creased. I see trust, warmth, affection.
Good.
“Black’s my favorite color,” I explain, realizing kids are a lot simpler than adults, and for once, that might actually work in my favor.
I’ve never been good at small talk. Never sure what people expect me to say.
I’d rather just speak directly. And it seems like he does too. “Do you have a favorite color?”
"Orange," he says with no hesitation, "like the fruit."
"Noah, did you know Carter likes pancakes too? Just like you," Lana adds.
"You do?" he gasps, eyes wide. I’m not sure why that detail matters so much, but it feels like a make-or-break moment.
“Yes.”
“We both like pancakes,” he mutters, looking at his plate. “Maybe we could have a pancake party next time Mom makes them?” I want to smile, I fucking do, but it doesn’t come this time. Without needing to look at her, I feel Lana’s gaze on me. As if she knew what I was trying to do too.
“Would you be okay with Carter being around a bit more, Noah?” Lana’s voice is sweet as honey, but my heart pounds in my ears. A monumental question, asked so simply, our fate resting in the hands of a little boy who means the world to the woman I’m falling for.
Thud-thud.
Thud-thud.
Thud-thud.
He smiles and shrugs. “Yep, we could play together if you like figurines.”
“I’d like that very much,” I say. My voice is cold as ice, but inside, I’m a ball of fire.
Whatever I did must’ve worked. Lana grins widely, leans in to ruffle his hair, and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
Then she looks at me with a spark I hadn’t seen before, like she just got the final confirmation she needed to let go and be mine.
If my heart stopped beating right now, I swear I’d die fucking happy.
“Mom, I'm done. Can I go play now?”
“Go wash your face first, honey, there’s tomato sauce everywhere.” He rolls his eyes but listens, climbing onto a little wooden tower that makes him just the right height for the sink. When he’s done, he comes back and takes my hand, like it’s no big deal. Like I’m not scary at all.
“Do you like puzzles?” he asks casually, leading me to the living room table where a third of one is already done.
“We started it with Mom this morning, but it’s not finished yet.
Look, there’s a truck here, and a motorcycle here, and—” He keeps going, describing the pieces with growing excitement.
I take off my cut, drop it on the couch, and sit on the rug beside him.
As he talks, I scan the table and spot a piece that looks like it might fit.
“Here,” I say, handing it to him. “Think it might fit around here,” I add, pointing to the top of a blue truck that’s still unfinished.
“Thank you,” he says absentmindedly, taking the piece and scanning for the right spot.
He finds it and presses it in, then looks up at me with a smug little smile.
“Next one?” he asks, humming a tune I assume he picked up at school, eyes locked on the puzzle.
He’s completely focused, the same way I get when I drift off.
In his own little world. Like me. I hand him a few more pieces without saying much, each time pointing to where I think they might fit.
“Carter?” I stare at him, waiting. “I like playing with you,” he says, flashing the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen, then goes right back to the puzzle like it’s no big deal.
I mumble something unintelligible, and I wish I could tell him the feeling is mutual.
Only this time, I’m not discouraged. With time, I’ll get there.
I’ll find a way to smile back, to show him I’m not just some weirdo.
“Hi, Rachel,” Lana greets behind us, her tone cheerful as she opens the door to the sitter.
I hear them chatting, something about Rachel’s mom and her famous biscuits at the last community meeting, then they round the couch and find us.
I give the girl a quick once-over. Tall, blonde, dressed like some English scholar with a tweed skirt, navy blouse, and glasses.
Yeah, we’re good. She looks serious. Disciplined.
Safe. Not that I get a say, but…I’ve got a sixth sense for people who play both sides.
And when it comes to Noah and Lana, well, I guess I’m a little protective now.
I nod at Rachel, then hand Noah one last puzzle piece.
“Gotta go, Noah, was nice playing with you,” I say. He smiles back, and it twists something in my chest, something I don’t quite recognize.
“Bye, Carter! Next time I’ll show you my figurines!”