Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Carter
I don’t need to go outside to know it’s hot this morning. There’s something about the way the sun is shining, with an almost hazy light that hangs in the air. It’s not even nine, and it looks fucking miserable.
That’s what makes me shake my head at Elliana when she walks into the kitchen for breakfast. “No way,” I tell her, shaking my head again as she stops dead in her tracks.
“That’s exactly how I want to be greeted when I come downstairs.” She leaves her backpack on the floor by the table, giving me a funny look on her way to the fridge. “What’s the problem this time?”
Eyeing her clothes, I explain, “You are going to die out there in that sweater. I’m not just saying it, either. It is hot as hell.”
She only shrugs, glancing toward the window. “Is it? I mean, I can deal with a little heat.”
“Well, there’s a heat advisory today. Maybe you need to think about wearing something else.”
“I’m not going to wear the slutty dresses Mom bought for me. Those are the only kind of clothes I have besides what I usually wear. Remember the dress I wore to the party?” When I nod, she says, “That’s what I’m talking about. There’s nothing normal. Nothing I could wear to school.”
This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I have to worry about what a grown woman wears outside the house. But she’s so damn stubborn, I wouldn’t put it past her to end up dying of heat stroke or some shit, all to prove a point. I don’t feel like carrying that on my conscience.
There’s nothing happening today I can’t miss, and that’s probably the same for her. “Okay. I know what we have to do.”
Her brows draw together when she frowns. “Why do I have a bad feeling?”
“Because you are a very suspicious person.” I’m kidding, but it’s also the truth. “I’m taking you out shopping. We can use my card. Well, Dad’s card.”
“Shopping?” Again with the skepticism. She arches an eyebrow and purses her lips, sizing me up. “For what?”
“Health insurance. What do you think I’m talking about?” Sometimes, I swear she plays dumb just to piss me off. And it’s working, too. “For clothes. Clothes you can be comfortable in on hot days. You can’t walk around like that all summer—do you really want to be miserable?”
“You don’t need to do this.” She wants to close herself off again. I see it. The shoulders are starting to go up.
“Stop yourself right now,” I warn. It only takes a few long strides to round the island between us—it hits me there was a time she would have flinched away, scared of me, but not now. She stands her ground as I take her by the shoulders. Today’s thick sweater is rough under my hands. Was she seriously going to go out in this? “It looks like we’re just going to keep knocking down these barriers you put up. Yesterday, it was the pool. Today, it’s your clothes. Tell me the truth. Are you really happy dressing this way?”
She wants to say yes. I see it written all over her face. She wishes she could tell me she likes dressing this way just to shut me up. She has to know I would never believe her. She’s stubborn, not stupid. Lowering her gaze, she sighs. “I never really thought about it as happy or unhappy.”
“Safe?” I guess, and she nods with another sigh. “You don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore. There’s nothing anybody can say to you that makes a damn bit of difference if you don’t want it to. Right? You are strong, and you’re worth more than that.”
“Do you believe that?” She searches my face with those big, brown eyes, and I almost want to hide from the way they seem to stare through me. Do I believe it?
“Yes,” I reply, nodding firmly. “I do believe it. And you’re going to believe it, too, if it kills me.”
“I just don’t get you sometimes.”
Yeah, that makes two of us. “We’re cutting school today.” She makes a sound that tells me she doesn’t agree, but I didn’t ask whether she agrees. “We’re going shopping, because you need clothes. End of story.”
“We can’t just cut school to go shopping.”
“Says who? I disagree. This is making sure you have what you need, and that’s important. And fuck anybody who wants to argue with me about it—including you.”
“Wow,” she whispers, snorting. “I had no idea it meant that much to you.”
That’s the thing. Neither did I.
It turns out there’s a lot of things that mean something to me, things I never thought about before. Almost like there’s part of me I didn’t know existed until she entered my life.
And when I think back on how much I didn’t want her around, it disgusts me. She’s not her mom, but I punished her, anyway. It feels like taking her shopping so she can be comfortable is the least I can do.
“I still don’t feel super comfortable with this. I don’t like attention—you should know that by now.” It’s like I told her we have to go to the electric chair today.
“I’ve never met a girl who didn’t want to go shopping.”
“Not all girls are the same,” she points out, making me drop my hands to my sides and sigh like she’s breaking my ass, because she is. “Have the girls you know been dragged around by their mom and picked apart the whole time?”
“Honestly? Probably. I’m not trying to tell you what you feel doesn’t matter, but I know you’re not the only girl who’s ever gone through that. Maybe you’ll like it better without your mom being around. You could actually enjoy it.”
“But won’t you be bored?”
“If you don’t stop trying to come up with reasons why we shouldn’t do this, I’m going to make you go swimming again—and in the deep end, this time.” She watches, smirking, as I crack my knuckles. “What’s it gonna be?”
“Okay, fine. Let’s go, I guess.” She still looks totally miserable. Maybe she’ll feel better once she gets started trying things on. There’s really nothing wrong with her body—not even close. She’s just afraid. And she’s probably carrying a shit ton of negativity from Irene.
I hope you’re having fun in Thailand, gold digger. Your daughter is here suffering in the meantime.
I have to force myself to stop thinking about her as we finish eating cereal. If I’m in a shit mood, the morning is ruined. “Let’s go out now,” I decide once the bowls are in the dishwasher. “This way, there won’t be so many people around the stores.”
“Stores? Plural?” The girl looks like she’s ready to drop dead from fright, but she follows me out of the kitchen, dragging her feet. Just in case I forgot for even a second she’s not looking forward to this. Sometimes being nice and taking interest in a person’s life isn’t worth the frustration.
But once I open the front door, it’s obvious we’re making the right choice. The heat hits me in the face and tries to suck the air out of my lungs.
“Damn,” she murmurs. “All right, maybe it’s better for me to find some new clothes.”
Oh, you think? Maybe I’m finally growing up or learning self-control, since I keep that thought inside. With the air conditioner running at full blast, we pull out from the driveway, and I steer us toward the mall.
“All I’m saying is, don’t expect miracles.” She is so determined for this not to work. Glancing over, I find her staring out the window. “I don’t look good in a lot of things. My body is all wrong.”
Fuck you, Irene.
“Who made you think that? Because I’ve seen your body plenty of times, and it looks good to me.” Good enough that I would like to see her in clothes that show her off a little more.
“Who do you think?” She blurts out a sad, empty laugh. “Then she buys me short dresses that barely cover my ass. Like, make up your mind, woman.”
“She’s not here now. She’s on the other side of the world, and I like your body. A lot.” Just thinking about it makes me reach over to close a hand around her knee and give it a squeeze.
I was right about coming out at this time of day. The parking lot is practically empty. Some of it might have to do with fewer people shopping in actual stores anymore, but I’m not in the mood to think about economic collapse or whatever it is. Not when there’s work to do. “I know from personal experience there’s a lot of room on this card—and Dad would be happy to buy you whatever you want. So go as crazy as you want to go.”
“I don’t want to go crazy at all.” She can say that all she wants, but the way she looks at the dresses on some of the mannequins in a store window tells a different story. She has told herself for so long that she can’t be a certain way or want certain things that she’s actually started to believe it. I see what’s underneath all of that. The person who wants to come out but is still too scared.
“That would look good on you.” I have to keep it casual—I don’t want her to know I was paying attention. It’s like I’m hunting, and I can’t scare her away. I have to take my time, choose my words carefully. I almost can’t believe I’m going to all this trouble.
“You think so?” If she chews her lip much harder, she’ll bite through it.
“Why don’t you go try it on?” I even give her a slight shove toward the open doors to the store. “If you don’t like it, fine, but you can try.”
“What if it’s a waste of time?”
“So what?”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“I’m sure I’ll live through the disappointment.”
“But it’ll be a waste of your time.”
I’m going to scream. Good thing there aren’t many people around to hear me. “For fuck’s sake, Elliana. It’s my time. I decide if it’s wasted. Try the damn dress on, or I’m going to buy it for you in the first size I see, and you’ll have to wear it whether you want to or not.”
“Fine, fine,” she grumbles, finally going into the store just when I’m sure I’m going to strangle her. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Isn’t she supposed to be dragging me from store to store?
Not like I’m her boyfriend or anything. I need to be careful, or else I could forget that part.
“I can wait right here,” I offer, dropping into a chair near the dressing room. “If you want my help picking things out, just let me know.” But something tells me she’ll be better off on her own, without me making suggestions. I don’t want to freak her out or put any pressure on her when she’s already feeling pressured enough. I will offer an opinion if and when I’m asked for one, but that’s it.
At first, she hesitates, and I almost want to ask if she’s afraid of there being a test after this. It’s supposed to be fun, and I can’t think of a single girl I know who wouldn’t jump at the chance to wear out a piece of plastic they don’t have to worry about paying off.
But pretty soon she loosens up, and before I know it, I’ve got dresses and skirts and shorts piling across my lap.
“Hang on. Let me find a shirt to go with that,” she says, starting back to a wall full of shelves where T-shirts are stacked in probably every color possible. One of the sales clerks opens the dressing room so she can hang everything up in there for when Elliana is ready to start trying things on.
“You’re really sure this is okay? I’m not saying I’m going to buy all of it,” she says, chewing her lip again while the sales girl takes armfuls of clothing to the dressing room.
“Dad will be so glad when he sees you feeling comfortable with yourself. He’ll probably ask why we didn’t do this sooner.” She seems relieved to hear that before ducking into the room waiting for her.
“I better get a fashion show out here,” I call out, and the girls behind the register giggle. It wasn’t that long ago I would’ve gone over to talk with them, maybe flirt, see how far I could get. Now I kind of wish they would go away, so it could be just the two of us here in the store.
“What do you think about this?” The door to Elliana’s room opens, but instead of coming right out, she peeks from around it. “Please, be kind.”
I would tell her I’m always kind, but that’s not true, so I just wave her out. “Let’s see.”
The first thing out of my mouth when I see her in a skirt that comes down to the middle of her thighs and a T-shirt is, “What mirror are you using in there that makes you think you don’t look great in this?”
“Oh, stop,” she whispers, stepping in front of the three-way mirror outside the dressing rooms.
“I’m serious. Do they need to be cleaned or something?”
“You really think this is right? It’s not showing too much leg or whatever?” She tugs at the hem, frowning at her reflection.
“That’s kind of the point. But if you don’t like it, you’ve got a hundred other things to try on.”
“And you’re not bored to death?”
Maybe not to death. It’s not exactly the most fun I’ve ever had, but I’m not about to stop her. It was hard enough getting her out here in the first place. “Try on the next thing. Take your time.”
“Whatever you say.” But I’m not blind. She is grinning on her way into the dressing room. And by the time she tries on another outfit, and another after that, she’s flat-out smiling.
I want to ask her if she feels better wearing clothes that are actually meant to be worn at this time of year, but that would only make her shut down. Besides, I can tell she does. I don’t have to rub it in her face to know I’m right, that she’s feeling happier already.
And me? I almost have to sit on my hands to keep from grabbing at her. Maybe I screwed myself over, now that I think about it. It’s going to be harder to keep my hands off her when I can see more of her.
It’s fine to touch her when our parents aren’t around, but what about later, after they’re home? I’m going to have a lot of dates with my right hand in my future.
Instead of thinking too much about that—we still have time, I don’t need to worry about it now—I give my final verdict on the clothes she’s not sure of.
“I think you should get all of it, because you look good in all of it.”
Her cheeks flush before she giggles. “You’re going overboard.”
Maybe, but does she look upset? Not at all. She deserves to have somebody flatter her. She deserves to feel special.
The way she’s beaming after we almost have to stumble out of the mall with bags in both hands, I would say she feels pretty damn good. “That was an insane amount of money!” She laughs like she still can’t believe it. “Are you sure your dad is okay with this?”
“It’ll be fine. You’re family. He wants you to be happy.” Irene will be happy, too. That will make up his mind, I think.
As soon as we’re outside, she gasps. “Are there any eggs frying on the pavement?”
“Hurry,” I grunt, using the key fob to turn on the truck so the air will be running by the time we reach it. As soon as we do, we load the bags into the back, then pretty much leap inside.
“Thank fuck—” I barely have the words out of my mouth when she leans over, takes my face in her hands, and delivers a kiss that immediately makes me hard.
“What was that for?” I grunt when she lets me go.
“For making me do that when I wouldn’t have done it myself.” She’s wearing a playful grin when she sits back, pulling on her seatbelt. “Maybe I’ll give you a little fashion show when we get back.”
To think, I was going to ask if she wants to go to lunch. Fuck that. We’re going straight home now. We could always order food if we’re too worn out to make anything. And I plan on making sure we’re both too worn out. She can’t kiss me like that and not expect to have her brains fucked out.
“You’re in a hurry!” She giggles when I basically throw my door open as soon as we’re parked in front of the house.
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing I managed to stay at the speed limit the whole way back.” I wiggle my brows, then give her a growl that makes her laugh. “I’m looking forward to the fashion show you promised.”
“I should’ve known…” She doesn’t seem unhappy about it, though, as we get the bags together and head inside.
“You should try on that dress. The blue one,” I suggest. The dress that almost made me drool on myself when I saw her in it. Just thinking about it makes my dick twitch again. “You should try it on right here in the living room. Don’t even bother going upstairs.”
“Wow. I always thought guys liked lingerie and stuff.”
“We do, but it’s nice to mix things up every once in a while, too.” And she’s wasting time. I’m ready to start pulling her clothes off instead of letting her take care of it herself. While she’s getting changed, I go to the kitchen for water. If things go the way I’m thinking they will, we’re both going to need it. I plan on making her scream.
“I’m ready,” she calls out, making me slam the refrigerator door and almost run to the living room.
The dress fits her like it was made with her in mind. I forget how to talk when she does a slow turn to show off her plump, firm ass. The swells of her tits are exposed just enough to make me salivate, and her legs? My hands flex from the need to touch them, grab them, wrap them around me.
“You are dangerous,” I tell her, crossing the room in a few long strides so I can set down the water and take her by the waist. “It’s a miracle I didn’t do this at the store.”
She winds her arms around my neck when I kiss her—slow, deep, pulling one high-pitched moan after another from the back of her throat. She’s alive in my arms, warm and firm and soft at the same time.
“You’re so fucking hot.” I pull my head back until she looks me in the eye. “I’m serious. And don’t let anybody ever tell you different. Got it?”
“Got it.” She looks and sounds confused, but that’s fine. I have all the time in the world to wipe out that confusion.
Starting right now, when I turn her in place and bend her over the coffee table. “I love your legs,” I whisper as my hands run up them from her knees to her hips, sliding up under the dress until my thumbs trace where her panties meet her ass cheeks. The way she shivers and gasp gets me rigid, almost dripping already.
“What do you think? Should I fuck you right now?” I whisper, slowly easing her underwear over her ass. “Or should I eat your pussy first?”
“What would you rather do?” My heart almost stops when she wiggles her ass suggestively. Who is this girl? Where has she been hiding?
Under a heavy sweater, that’s where.
All of that sass melts into a high-pitched, needy moan when I find her wet, swollen slit. “I think I would rather taste all of this,” I decide, dragging my fingers through her silky heat.
At first, I don’t understand what happens next. The sound coming from the front entry hall. The door opening.
“We’re home early—” Dad comes around the corner, calling out like he didn’t expect to find us in here.
But that’s okay, because we didn’t expect him to come home early. We didn’t expect to be caught like this, with her bent over in front of me, and my fingers probing her pussy.
He stops dead, eyes bulging, his mouth falling open. “What the hell are you doing?” he bellows.