Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Carson didn’t remember the last time he had that much fun losing. First to Emily and Trent, then to Liz. Sure, he still thought Liz was cheating somehow, but he couldn’t argue that she had, indeed, managed to strip his thumb bare.
He also couldn’t argue that he kind of liked it.
The way her eyes sparked with fire both before their match and during.
The little furrow of concentration that blossomed between her eyebrows.
The celebratory wriggling. Dear God, the wriggling.
Carson wondered what type of stretching routine she did to keep herself that flexible, and if he’d get a chance to test it out more.
“So, uh…”
Trent’s words drew Carson’s thoughts back to reality. He realized he was staring at where Liz and Emily had disappeared into the kitchen and turned back to Trent.
“I don’t know where you and Liz are at with things right now—”
Yeah. Join the club.
“—but I wanted you to know that she deserves to be happy.”
“Agreed.”
“And if you’re the guy who makes her happy, so be it. But,” Trent continued, piercing Carson with his gaze, “if you wind up hurting her again, I will hurt you. Understood?”
Carson nodded. “We’re still figuring things out.” Not exactly the truth, but not a lie, either. “But believe me when I say, I know I screwed up. And she deserves the best.”
Trent’s eyes bounced to where they heard girlish giggles echoing down the hallway. “Yeah, she does.”
“Am I allowed to say that you’re doing a great job with Emily?”
Trent gave him a small smile. “Thanks.” Swallowing, he said, “She’s a great kid.”
“Agreed.”
“Thanks in no small part to Liz.” Trent pursed his lips. “It hasn’t been the easiest, but we’ve managed to create a great little life.”
“It is pretty great.”
“So if you upset any part of it…”
“You’ll make me pay. Got it.”
Trent gave him a nod. “Glad we understand each other.”
Carson was more than a little surprised to find that he did actually understand where Trent was coming from.
Not only because his own childhood was a far cry from tonight’s domestic scene, but because Trent was right.
Liz had been through enough. As had Emily and her father.
And his track record from Trent’s point of view was horrendous.
But he’d grown. Changed. They both had. God, they’d been young and stupid. At least now they were older. Wiser. With more experience. And hopefully a few more brain cells.
Carson eased himself into her car while Liz stowed his crutches in the back seat. Before he closed his door, Emily flew out the front door and stopped beside him. She foisted a Tupperware container into his hands. “For later,” she said with a shy smile.
“Thank you.” He peeked inside. The smell of cookies wafted out. “Do I have to share any with your aunt?” he stage-whispered.
Emily’s grin widened. “Only if you don’t want her to tickle you to death.”
Carson matched her grin. He could think of worse things to do than tickle-fight Liz over homemade cookies.
Emily scampered back up the walkway with a giggle and slammed the door behind her. She appeared next to Trent in the picture window in the living room.
Liz climbed into the driver’s seat. “What are those?” she asked, waving to her family.
“None of your business.”
“Ooh, fighting words.”
Carson held the container to his chest. “Back off, cheater.”
“Whatever, dying-cow hummer.”
They scowled at each other for a few seconds before their grins shone through. Carson relaxed into his seat and sighed. “That was fun.”
Liz put her car into drive and pulled away from the curb. “Yeah. As much as it pains me to lose to Trent and Em, at least we had a good time doing it.”
“Yep. Except for the part where your brother threatened me.”
Liz winced. “Sorry. If it makes you feel better, you can totally take him.”
Carson chuckled. “Thanks. But I deserved it. I get where he’s coming from.”
“Yeah. Me too. But remember it took two of us being idiots for this to happen.”
“We really were idiots.”
“Such idiots.” They drove in silence for several heartbeats before Liz suddenly veered off the main road.
Carson tightened his grip on the Tupperware container. “If you think you’re going to push me out of this car and drive off with these cookies, you are sadly mistaken.”
“Mm-hm. I’ll get ’em one way or another,” Liz muttered, her focus on the rutted road in front of them.
Breaking through the overgrown sorry excuse for a road, Liz’s headlights illuminated the dock in front of them. “Oh.” He recognized it now. Etta May’s pond. They’d taken one of the back roads in.
Liz turned off the car, and the absence of headlights plummeted them into semi-darkness. The light from the moon bounced off the water, and twinkling stars blanketed the sky.
“I forgot how beautiful this place is.” Carson had done his fair share of traveling, but this was still one of his favorites. Of course, the woman in the seat next to him likely played a part.
“Right?” Liz turned slightly in her seat, angling toward him. “Did Davis tell you he’s working on getting this protected?”
Carson searched his brain but came up empty. “No.”
“Yeah. He kind of came here with his own agenda, and there was a threat of developers moving in, but long story short, now he’s on our side and working feverishly to keep the town intact.”
Huh. He probably shouldn’t be surprised. Areas like Cloverfield were ripe for development. Although the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t want that to happen.
Weird. If someone told him about possible developers a month ago, he would’ve shrugged and wished them well. But now? Now he wondered how something like that would affect Liz and her business. Or Gwen and her coffee shop. Or Crawford’s.
Crap.
“Hey.” Liz inched closer. “Do you remember that time after Janie Lee’s birthday party when we all came out here?”
Carson groaned. “How can I forget?” It had been his first attempt at skinny dipping, and he’d wound up having to creep back home pantless after Pete confiscated his shorts.
“You know that’s when I first noticed you, right?”
“Hard not to notice someone creeping through the bushes cursing because he fell into a patch of thorns.”
Liz grimaced. “Ew, yeah. That couldn’t have felt good.”
“It did not.”
“But you did have some pretty nice thighs.”
“Thanks. Although they’re better now, if I do say so myself.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Less scrawny, more muscle-y. And much better tan lines.”
Liz chuckled.
“You don’t believe me?” Carson scoffed and lifted her hand from where it rested against her seat, placing it on his good thigh. “Squeeze.”
Surprise registered on her face for the briefest of moments before it was replaced with something else.
Carson felt the mood shift and wondered if he’d misstepped.
But instead of anger or indignation, he saw something that looked a lot like desire flashing in her eyes.
She licked her lips. Before he knew it, she was halfway straddling the console between their seats with her lips planted on his.
Carson accommodated her as best he could, angling himself into the corner of the car so she was able to get closer. Move freely. Put her hands everywhere she wanted them. Because he wanted them everywhere. On his chest. On his abs. Down his pants.
He wanted all of her on all of him. Apparently, so did she.
“Gah!” A knee to his bad thigh had him questioning the wisdom of their activities in such a confined space.
Liz pulled away, her lips slightly swollen and a dazed look in her eye. “What?” She looked out the windows. “Oh, God. Etta May and her crew aren’t out there, are they?”
“No,” he eked out. At least not that he knew. Fuck. They could be trapped in a ring of furries and Etta May’s hairy-suited friends right now for all he knew. “Leg.”
Confusion drew Liz’s brows together before realization overtook her features. She quickly climbed off of him and plopped back into her seat. “Sorry.”
He winced as he massaged his leg. “No. It’s me. Stupid leg.” He let his head drop back against his head rest while he worked through the fire burning its way through his thigh.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You got any magic cream anywhere?”
“No. Shoot. Bea has something Davis swore by, but she’s closed.”
“I have some.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Davis gave it to me.”
“Well, why didn’t you say something?”
“I just did.”
With a huff, Liz cranked the car on, turned around, and got them back on the road.
It wasn’t long before the inn came into view. Carson was more than a little surprised to find a kernel of disappointment blossoming in his gut as they got closer. “I had a really good time tonight.”
Pulling into the inn’s driveway, Liz said, “Yeah. Me too.”
Carson ran his palms over his jeans. Dammit. Why was he nervous? They’d just been making out in her car, for Christ’s sake. But that was what she did to him—scrambled his brain so he didn’t know if he would be an idiot to ask her up to his room, or an idiot to let her go.
“So, this is you,” she said, maneuvering into the parking lot and slotting into a space.
“Yeah, it is.” They sat there, looking at the inn in silence.
Carson hadn’t felt this awkward since the first time he’d tried to ask out a girl.
Junior high. Huge fail. Doubt crept into the crevices of his brain while his heartbeat kicked up a notch.
They’d clearly gotten over the hate part of the equation, but were they ready for the bedroom side of things?
Would they ever be? Or was it good enough that they were talking again?
He practically heard his own thoughts churning in the midst of the silent car.
God, this was awkward.
Come on, man. Get it together. It’s Liz, for fuck’s sake.
Which was precisely the problem. He’d hurt her once. He didn’t want to hurt her again.
Blowing out a breath, he made his thoughts known. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“You won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I know you. I may or may not have occasionally seen your name pop up online. You’re a good guy.”
Was he?
“Now, are we going inside, or what?”
Carson angled his head toward her. Hope took root amongst the doubt. “You want to come inside?”
Liz rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes darting to the inn before locking back in on Carson. “Unless you don’t want me to?”
The vulnerability in her eyes was like an arrow to his heart. Shit. “I definitely want you to.”
A hint of a smile tipped her lips. “Good. Because I’m pretty sure you’ll need help carrying those cookies.”
An idea pinged into his brain. “Might need some help with Bea’s cream, too.”
The shy smile morphed into something more wolfish. “What the hell are we still doing out here?”
What the hell, indeed?