12. Carter
Chapter twelve
Carter
S omething shifted after that shower. Part of me thinks the intimacy of bathing with him is responsible, though that line of thought borders on reducing things to sex, which doesn’t feel right. I’ve done the just sex thing, and it doesn’t feel like this. It doesn’t leave me with deeper questions about who I am, what I want, or what motivates the man sharing my bed.
Sloan is the first man I’ve been with who could care less about my name. That fact alone makes me like him more. For years, I’ve been chased by men that care about my family legacy more than me as a person, but Sloan… He’s different. He’s taken the time to figure out who I am instead of chalking me up to some rich hot-shot. Hell, instead of believing the town gossip, he went out of his way to form an opinion of me by talking to me. It speaks volumes about his character.
For that reason alone I admire him, though I almost think it’s his independence, and his determination to work his way forward on his own merit, that I’m responding to the most. Ironically, that independence might be the one thing to get in the way of his willingness to give us a true shot. And I understand why, too. He doesn’t want people to see him as someone who’s taken handouts, though speaking from experience, people tend to believe that even when it’s not true. And really, are handouts all bad?
Refocusing on the spreadsheet in front of me, I ponder that notion as the fields once again seem to blur together, wondering if my upbringing isn’t the gift I’ve always thought it was.
People in my world often make their success through favors. I’m sure in some circles those favors are seedy, though that’s not my reality, and because of that I’ve always thought there’s nothing wrong with exploiting who we know to gain an advantage. I believe it can be a good thing, and if nothing else I’m proof of that, using my father’s money and connections to chase my career dreams, which include saving the resort that sustains this town. None of that would be possible without the support of my father and his associates.
Until meeting Sloan, I never questioned the optics of that, and to be honest I’m still not sure I understand his stout refusal to accept a helping hand. If people are going to assume it anyway, why not take advantage of the opportunity?
Turning down help is a foreign concept to me, though I can’t deny feeling an odd sort of respect for that type of ambition. I wonder where that comes from? What made him so averse to the type of networking I grew up with? And is he so opposed to it that it means we’re doomed before we start?
I get that the way things have developed between us makes him leery of accepting my help, and as far as his career goes, I can follow why he has concerns even if I don’t agree with them. Yet Sloan wouldn’t even consider skipping a shift at Murphy’s, a job that has no influence on the career he wants. Who chooses to do that when they don’t have to?
Yes, it was selfish of me to ask him to skip work, and normally I wouldn’t encourage people to play hooky. I just wanted more time with him, and I thought missing a restaurant shift wouldn’t affect his bigger goals. The fact that he wouldn’t entertain calling out made me respect him even more. Grudgingly. I think that’s why I can’t get him out of my head.
To be fair, he’s been on my mind since the first time I saw him. I must’ve sensed, even then, that he’s different from the men I’m used to. Someone I can be real with. That’s an understatement.
All the men before him were just convenient. Right place, right time. People who satisfied a basic need when the urge got too overwhelming, and who were just as eager for a good, quick fuck as I was. In most cases, we didn’t know anything about each other except carnal attraction. I wouldn’t even share my name if I could avoid it, because I didn’t plan to see them again.
It sounds shallow, but it’s how I protected myself from situations where people wanted the lifestyle more than me. I figured I couldn’t be disappointed in someone’s character if I didn’t know anything about it. With Sloan it’s different. I felt an immediate attraction, but I saw glimpses of his character before acting on anything, and for the first time in my life I want to explore that as much as I want to explore his body.
The sudden urge to learn even more has me closing out of the spreadsheet and picking up the phone.
***
“What’s all this?” Sloan’s backpack falls to the ground as he takes in the containers spread over the coffee table.
“Lunch.” I grin sheepishly .
“Is massage the new code word for lunch?” His nose wrinkles in the cutest little way as he watches me, curiously.
“Much as I’d love one of your massages, we both know where that would lead, and since Janice is right outside the door that’s not on the agenda. But yes, requesting a massage is a convenient way to get you up here without anyone knowing I just want to talk.”
A shy smile spreads across his lips as he takes the seat next to me on the couch. “Are we assuming she won’t find it suspicious that you have lunch delivered at the same time you scheduled a massage?”
“Considering I grumbled to her about the lunch coming early I think I’m in the clear.” I serve him some rice and orange chicken to hide the fact that I haven’t really thought this through.
He accepts the plate I hand him with an almost demure grin. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Favorite food? I gambled that everyone likes Chinese when I ordered, but that’s probably something I should know before I invite you to lunch.” I give him a wink that has crimson flooding his cheeks as I dish myself a helping.
“Ah, speed dating.”
“What?” My hand pauses midway to my plate, a few grains of rice slipping off the spoon and onto the floor.
“You know.” He waves his fork around, stalling as he swallows a bite. “Rapid fire questions where you say the first thing that comes to mind.”
“That’s a thing?” My brows pull together.
“For busy professionals, yes. You get through an entire date in a few minutes and get some of the basic questions out of the way.”
“How do you come up with the questions?” I wipe up the spilled rice and finish dishing my own plate .
He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and moves a fingertip over the screen, tossing it on the table when he’s found what he wants. “Here.” He points to a list. “Are you game?” Sloan waggles his eyebrows as he spears a piece of chicken and brings it to his mouth, lips slowly closing around the utensil in a way that has my cock lurching excitedly. Tease .
Clearing my throat, I look at the first question and read it aloud. “Favorite Color?”
“Purple. Yours?”
“Blue.”
His eyes cut to the list while I take a bite of my lunch. “Favorite food?”
“Burgers.”
“Not Filet Mignon or Beef Wellington?” The corner of his lip ticks up in a sly grin.
“Half my childhood was spent at ski training, not the Ritz.” I roll my eyes like I’m annoyed, but in reality, I like that he feels comfortable enough to joke with me. “What’s your favorite?”
“Tacos. Or burritos or enchiladas. Anything Mexican really.”
I peek at the list. “Favorite place you’ve ever been.”
“Spain.” His eyes sparkle as a wistful smile ghosts across his lips. I make a mental note to ask for more detail later. “You?”
“Switzerland.”
“Favorite sport?” Sloan asks around a mouthful of chicken. I paste a disappointed look on my face and arch an eyebrow. “Besides skiing,” he amends.
“Hockey.” Those big green eyes grow even wider. “It’s the least gentlemanly sport there is,” I answer his unspoken question.
We go back and forth for the better part of an hour, sharing ourselves piece by piece with silly questions like what’s your favorite holiday tradition and who’s the best superhero? It’s juvenile, ridiculous, and fun . It makes me feel almost as light as his massages do, and he hasn’t even touched me.
Talking about everything and nothing reminds me of the time I spent at training camp growing up, where conversation was lighthearted and somewhat goofy. I’ve been led to believe a man should outgrow those subjects by the time he reaches his mid-twenties, but based on the smiles we’re both wearing I’m beginning to think that was bad advice. Everyone should have an opinion about the best superhero, which of course is Batman.
“There’s nothing special about Batman,” Sloan rolls his eyes as he shakes his head back and forth. “He’s just a rich guy with fancy toys…”
“Who became a superhero,” I cut him off.
“He doesn’t have any powers though. Superheroes have powers.”
“Batman’s toys give him power. Plus, he’s an average human, not some alien from another world. Kids can legitimately dream about being him one day. They can’t dream about being Superman because they weren’t born on another planet.”
“The question wasn’t which superhero do you think you can become, it’s which one is the best.” Sloan’s lower lip puffs out as his brows draw together. Apparently, I’m taking this topic too literally.
“Okay, fine. Captain Red, White and Blue is the best.”
“It’s Captain America,” he huffs.
“My mistake.” I pull Sloan toward me and wrap my arm around his shoulders, so he’s tucked against my side. “Thank you for having lunch with me.”
Sloan relaxes into me, running his fingertip along my forearm. “Thanks for the invitation. I do have one question though. Do you think Janice really believes I was giving you a massage in here? ”
“Probably not.” I chuckle into his hair. “But she won’t assume we’re doing something we shouldn’t be, and she’ll probably be thrilled that I’m not eating alone like I usually do.”
“She does make me think of a surrogate mother more than your secretary.”
“She sees herself as both. Now, I have one more question for you – a serious one this time.”
“What’s that?” he asks, fingers going still on my arm.
“I know you don’t want me to do you any favors for your career, and I understand why. But in my world, those are common. Expected almost. It feels weird to not do anything to help you.”
“Is there a question in there?” I hear the hint of a smile in his soft voice even though I can’t see it.
“Would you let me help if we weren’t sleeping together?”
Sloan’s chest rises and falls several times as I wait for an answer. “I guess it would depend on what type of help. Introducing me to someone, sure. Pressuring them to interview me, no.”
“You’d still have to prove yourself either way.”
“True, but at least on my own there’d be no question that I earned my place. If you encouraged someone to give me that chance… I’d never know if it were me or you who earned it.”
I roll that over in my mind for a bit, wondering how to respond. All things considered, I didn’t exactly earn my place here, and I didn’t think twice about taking it. Maybe I should have. Maybe, if I weren’t here, there’d be a more qualified person in this role. Someone who would’ve already made a difference.
What’s done is done though, and the one thing I can say with certainty is that regardless of my experience, I’m one hundred percent committed to this resort. This town. The best thing I can do now is make sure I’m successful .
“You’re thinking awfully hard back there.” The fingers resume their path along my arm. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” I kiss the top of Sloan’s head. “It’s hard to take my mind off work for too long. There’s so much to do and not nearly enough time to do it.” It’s not the whole truth of why I went silent, but it’s not far off.
“Ooh, I know.” Sloan sits up and turns to face me. “Do the annual bike race.”
“The annual what?”
“Bike race. It’s not really a race, it’s one of those things for charity where you do laps, and the more laps you do the more you make. But it’s an all-day event and people dress up and you can stop at different houses along the route for drinks and snacks.” His voice gets progressively louder as he talks.
“Why would I do that?” I ask cautiously.
“To get your mind off work, of course. You could join our group. I think there’s like twelve or fifteen of us or something. I have to work the lunch shift but I’m off at one, if you want to wait until then.”
“I admit your excitement has me curious, but it sounds like something I should pledge money to rather than participate in.” I’m unlikely to gain any goodwill by asking for donations when everyone knows I can afford to make my own.
“You can do both. Pledge something to yourself for however many laps you do and pay up at the end. Easy.”
I’m not entirely convinced the townspeople will accept me joining their event, even under the conditions Sloan suggests, but I suppose I have to start somewhere. I’m just not sure that somewhere is showing up to the bike race as his guest.
“Let’s say I accept your invitation, what then?”
“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side .
I run my tongue over my teeth as I choose my next words. “If I meet you outside this office, the secret is out.”
Sloan inhales sharply, suddenly becoming very interested in a speck of lint on his pants. “Secret is such a loaded term…”
“It’s okay,” I cut him off before he can defend himself. “You’re not sure you want people to know about this. Us. And I know that’s because you’re sensitive to the perception that you’re getting special treatment. Believe it or not I’m sensitive to that as well, but not for the same reason.”
“What’s yours?” Sloan seems to hold his breath.
“My father and the rest of the board wouldn’t approve of me sleeping with an employee.”
“Employees are beneath you,” he surmises.
“Sexual harassment lawsuits can be very damaging,” I correct.
One of the first things my dad taught me was not to mix business with pleasure, and that’s a lesson I’ve followed to the letter for years. I thought I’d follow it forever, until Sloan came into the picture. Now, the mere thought of putting myself in a position where someone could claim sexual harassment should have me running in the opposite direction—that’s what my father would advise—and if he gets wind of this thing between us there’s no telling how he’ll react. Yet, that only makes me want to be cautious, not call things off.
Ironic that the first person I want to claim publicly is the one I have to hide, but for now that really is the only way to go forward. I only hope we can stop hiding sooner rather than later.
“So, what is this then?” Sloan’s eyes seem to narrow with skepticism. “Why are we here if it’s a bad idea for both of us? Should we stop… whatever this is?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just curious what will happen if I accept your invitation. ”
Sloan gnaws on his lip before answering. “You’ll get to meet my friends, maybe make some friends, and have a good time. Your presence doesn’t have to be anything more than me being nice to my boss, who I’ve bumped into at the resort a few times.”
“Do you think we can do the just friends thing in public?” I brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead so I can see his confused green eyes.
“I think you need to start venturing out of your office, and this is as good a time as any. As for us, we’ll just have to be extra careful to be polite and not friendly. Right?”
“Is it that important to you that I interact with the people in town?”
“It should be that important to you . One meeting with Finn and you’ve already made headway on your plans for the resort. Think about how much goodwill you could create in the town by showing people you want to be part of it.”
He makes a solid point, and I can’t help but smile at his logic. “I’ll do it on one condition. ”
His body stiffens, like he’s bracing for bad news. “What?”
I go a little tense myself but push forward anyway. “You come home with me afterward. For the night.”
Sloan’s posture relaxes as he gives me a timid smile. “The secret will really be out then.”
“No one but your sister and Finn would know, and I bet you could come up with an explanation beforehand if you don’t want to let them in on it.”
A tiny crease forms between his brows as he considers my proposition. Maybe I’m pushing too hard, taking too many risks with both our careers. Yet I can’t bring myself to take back my words.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “Okay.” Those green eyes meet mine with a mixture of worry and excitement.
“Okay.” With a relieved smile, I pull him to me and seal our arrangement with a kiss that very nearly drives us up to my apartment.