Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jude
Saturday afternoon held the last gasp of summer, a warm and sunny day that belied the chilly temperatures forecasted for next week.
It also held the last tendrils of my sanity.
I missed Carson fiercely and continued to wrestle with my phone, writing and deleting texts.
The dog wasn’t as much of a distraction as I’d hoped.
He was the most chill, low-maintenance canine I’d ever encountered and a direct contrast to my agitated mood.
We should talk. Sitting at my dining table, my finger hovered over the Send icon for the hundredth time.
What if Carson didn’t want to talk? And did I really want to have this conversation over text?
The dog dropped an orange-and-blue tennis ball into my lap, jostling my hand away from my messaging app.
He sat patiently in front of me, big brown eyes waiting for me to get over myself.
“You’re right,” I said to the dog, hours past feeling ridiculous talking aloud to him. “Face-to-face is best. Sitting here isn’t doing anyone any good.”
I pushed to standing, and the dog followed me into the kitchen to grab my hat and truck keys.
“Want a ride?” I asked. Maybe Carson’s soft spot for horses would extend to dogs. I wasn’t above using my house guest to get Carson to listen. The dog carried his ball as he trotted alongside me to the side door.
“What the—” Three steps onto the porch, and I pulled up short.
Equally startled, the dog ducked back into the house.
Colt’s truck was parked next to mine. How had I missed the sound of someone coming down the drive?
Dread filled me. Even in his personal vehicle, there was only one reason the sheriff would stop by unannounced on a Saturday. Please no.
“Jude?” Carson stepped out of the driver’s side of the truck, no Colt in sight. I dropped my keys. They clattered across the wooden porch floor, but I paid them no mind.
“What’s this?” My mouth felt drier than my dusty driveway. I blinked. I couldn’t rule out a hallucination, but Carson seemed real enough as he strode toward me.
“Got cleared to drive.” Carson stopped in front of the steps.
“Your appointment must have gone well. Congrats.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, and I sure as hell didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
“First solo trip.” Carson gestured back at the truck. “Had to sweet-talk Colt.”
“I’m surprised he agreed.” I gave a shaky laugh as I stooped to retrieve my keys.
“Mav helped.” Carson scratched the back of his neck, blue-plaid western shirt rippling with the movement. He looked so much more like a cowboy now, faded jeans, pearl-snap shirt, boots, leather belt. I wanted him so much I could scarcely move.
“Maverick is good at balancing Colt’s overprotectiveness.” How I was managing any conversation at all was a wonder.
“Yep.” Carson climbed the steps to stand next to me. He smelled like sawdust and spice. Familiar. “Gonna ask me in?”
“Sorry.” My laugh went from shaky to downright maniacal. “Didn’t mean to leave you outside. I’m a bit dazed because I was about to come to you.” I held up my truck keys. “And then here you are.”
“Here I am.” Carson followed me into the kitchen, where the dog was waiting for us, regarding Carson through wary eyes.
His shaggy black-and-white coat looked far better today after a bath and some patient brushing on my part.
No bark, but he was taking his time coming to an opinion regarding Carson, who held out a hand. “Whose dog?”
“No one’s yet. The Youngs found him wandering near their place. Luna talked me into fostering him for the weekend.”
“He sure looks comfortable.” Carson gestured at the large bag of chow next to the shiny dishes occupying the same spot all my childhood dogs had. Near the dining table, multiple tennis balls jockeyed for space with chew toys and two stuffed animals with squeakers.
“I maybe went a bit overboard at the feed store,” I confessed.
The large-size bag of chow was far more economical than the tiny packages, and I’d seen enough herding dogs with skin sensitivities to be picky about brand and type beyond what we’d had at the office.
“I didn’t know his toy preferences, so I got him an assortment to try. ”
“I see.” Carson rubbed his jaw as if trying not to laugh before pointing at the large cushion near the couch in the next room. “And the bed?”
“Thought it might keep him out of mine.” The dog apparently decided Carson was friend, not foe, and approached him slowly.
“Uh-huh.” Carson’s eyes twinkled as he leaned down to pet the dog. “Got a name?”
I pursed my lips. I’d resisted as long as I could.
“I’ve been calling him Lucky.” The dog gave a happy wag at the sound of his temporary nickname. He was a smart one. “Kept telling him he was lucky I’d agreed to the weekend. Lucky eventually stuck as his name for now.”
“For now.” Carson didn’t sound convinced I’d pass Lucky along come Monday. I wasn’t either, but I wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Carson scratched Lucky’s head. “Looks to be a real hardship.”
“Terrible imposition.” I chuckled, a bit self-conscious at how quickly Lucky had wriggled his way into my life. I’d thought it was mainly me missing Carson, but now Carson was right here in my house, and I wasn’t any more inclined to make calls to find Lucky a permanent placement.
“Surprised you didn’t get one sooner.”
“Luna’s been after me to at least foster for years.” I sighed at my own ridiculous resistance. “Guess I wasn’t ready. Had a whole list of excuses.”
“I feel that.” Carson’s expression softened, eyes appearing more green in the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows. “Used excuses to avoid coming out.”
“You had valid reasons,” I countered. My stomach twisted. The dog had been an excellent distraction, but we’d inevitably arrived back where we’d left off. My pulse sped up. I still didn’t have a good reply to Carson’s offer to come out.
“Some maybe.” Not meeting my gaze, Carson stooped to play tug with one of the toys with Lucky. “I told Colt.”
“What? Really?” Voice rising, I jumped enough to make Lucky drop his toy and come to my side.
“Chill. Not about us.” Carson’s eyes flickered with disappointment a second before his jaw hardened. “Just me. I’m gay.”
“Oh.” My pulse went from fast to legitimately tachycardic.
“Was the first time I said it.” Carson’s voice dropped to a near whisper. Finally shifting his attention from the dog, he lifted his eyes to meet mine, a quiet vulnerability to his expression that made me reach for him.
“Wow.” I pulled him into a hug. I couldn’t not touch him. Everything else between us could wait. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” Carson accepted the embrace, breathing deeply before stepping back. “Felt free. Like I’m flying.”
“I’m happy for you.” I licked my lips, my own feelings much more conflicted and harder to express.
“Did it for me.” Carson’s expression darkened before he bent to retrieve a floppy dog chew. “Wasn’t fair to put it on you.”
I made a pained noise. “I didn’t want to be the thing that pushed you.”
“Needed it to be for me.” He threw the chew for Lucky before continuing, “Always played it safe. Waited for others to move first.”
“I’ve been there. It’s not easy to go after what you want.” I gestured vaguely, encompassing all my dithering the last few days, all the hoping he’d contact me first, and all the fears holding me back.
“Yep.” Rising, Carson held my gaze, eyes steady and sure. “I want you.”
“Oh.” My eyes went so wide my forehead muscles strained. I’d known that, of course, but Carson stating it so matter-of-fact cut through all the junk in my brain.
“I want more than sex.” Carson continued right on being direct. He stepped closer so our chests brushed, face well within kissing distance.
“I do too.” I wanted to kiss him in the worst way, but he deserved more of an apology first. “I was too chicken to admit that the other day.”
“Thought you…deal with horses, not chickens.” Carson gave a dry laugh, his hesitation between words making his joke that much funnier.
“Point taken.” I laughed along with him before sobering. “I’m scared.”
“Of me?” Carson sucked his cheek in as his eyes narrowed. “I’m all-in.”
“Not of you. Of me. People I care about have a way of leaving.” There.
I’d hit the heart of the matter. When I opened my heart, bad things happened.
However, in building up my defenses against hurt, I’d lost the chance for a real connection.
And for the first time in years, I wanted that.
“I’m scared of ruining our friendship. Of not knowing how to have a real relationship. Of my job driving us apart.”
Carson made a dismissive noise. “Not scared of your job.”
“It’s not the job as much as worrying that my crazy hours will eventually be a wedge between us. That I’m not enough to keep you.”
“That’s my line.” Carson looked down at his boots. “Always gonna have TBI.”
“It’s a part of you,” I said readily. I’d never considered that as a reason not to try for more. “Doesn’t change how I feel.”
“Same about your job.” Carson lifted his gaze.
“Oh. Maybe I truly am an idiot,” I admitted. We both brought baggage, and if Carson didn’t care, why should I?
“Maybe.” Carson chuckled good-naturedly. “You were gonna come to me?”
“Yeah. I missed you.” I shuffled my feet from side to side. “More of being an idiot. Couldn’t figure out what to text.”
“Could’ve started with missing me,” Carson stated simply.
“Damn logic.” I released a week’s worth of breath. “I miss you. My life is better with you in it. I don’t want to ruin this thing before we even get started.”
“You won’t.” He leaned in for that kiss I’d craved for what felt like centuries. His mouth was soft and inviting, lips parting on a moan as our mouths met.
The hunger that always flared between us was stronger than ever.
I was famished for more of Carson, and I was done with thinking.
I told my anxious brain to take a hike. Carson was a lot more certain than I was, but I was also done fighting this.
We’d muddle through together, doubts and all. Right now, all I wanted was a bed.