Chapter 25 Dan
DAN
My shirt is buttoned wrong, and Carson’s hair is sticking to her face in frizzy, half-dry clumps, but we don’t care, because the CVS by the highway is open twenty-four hours.
Though truth be told, I’d drive to Indianapolis if I had to, as long as I got to end the night inside Carson Webber.
The CVS doors whoosh open, and I take Carson’s hand, a thing I wasn’t able to do just a few hours ago. But now it feels as natural as speaking her name. And the way she threads her fingers through mine, squeezing like she wants to make sure I don’t let go? It’s as good as kissing her.
To say nothing of the white lace panties that are currently in my pocket. We played a brief game of keep-away back at the quarry before she shot me a saucy little grin and told me to hang on to them. The thought of her bare ass beneath that little dress makes me walk faster.
As we enter the too-bright store, I notice her craning her neck toward the registers.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I just want to make sure I don’t know anyone working tonight,” she says.
“The one time I bought condoms in Cardinal Springs, when I thought I was going to get lucky with this guy I went on two dates with—he turned out to be in a vegan cult, I think? Anyway, that’s not important.
The point is, I drove out to the gas station on the county line so no one would report back to my mother. ”
I laugh. I love her nervous babbling and how she lets slip little bits of accidental Carson lore every time she talks. I suspect she thinks I’m not listening, or that I don’t like it, but the truth is that I collect those little bits of treasure that make up her.
“You remember that your mother doesn’t live here anymore, right?
” I remind her. It’s funny how easy it’s become to talk to her.
I suddenly get the connection Owen seems to have with Wyatt, that relaxed, lived-in ability to just…
talk. In all my relationships, fleeting as they’ve been, I’ve never been able to relax into conversation with anyone the way I can with Carson.
“You remember the Cardinal Springs phone tree?” she shoots back.
“Right,” I say, dragging her toward the family planning aisle.
I’m all too familiar with the way gossip spreads in Cardinal Springs.
I know I’ve been the chief topic of conversation for quite some time, ever since the Securities and Exchange Commission officers showed up at Wyatt’s niece’s birthday party looking for me.
But I’m not thinking about that right now. I can’t, not if I want to do all the things I want to do to Carson.
We stop in front of the shelves full of condoms. “Preferences?” I ask.
“Isn’t that a you question?” she replies.
“I think in an ideal situation, this would be a cooperative decision,” I tell her.
She glances at the shelves, her nose wrinkling. “Nothing neon or fruit-flavored.”
“Noted. Latex allergy?”
“Nope.”
I stop, turning to tip her chin up toward me, locking in on her wide blue eyes. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. And I’m not going to fuck her over.
“And you’re sure?” I ask. “This isn’t a heat-of-the-moment thing? We don’t have to do this. Not tonight. Not ever.”
Her pretty pink lips quirk up into a grin. “Dan, we’re standing under the harsh fluorescent lights of a CVS. There’s no heat in this moment.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Speak for yourself,” I say, then reach for a blue box of standard-issue Trojans. But before I can grab them, Carson gasps, then ducks.
“What?” I ask, my body springing to attention, ready to protect her from a drug store attacker or a bear.
“It’s Mrs. Eberle!” she whispers, pointing over at the next the aisle.
I don’t even bother to look, just drop down into a crouch beside her.
“I knew we should have gone to that sketchy Exxon,” she mutters.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you want to try to escape to the car? I can buy the condoms.”
“If she sees you, she’s going to have questions.”
“I don’t have to talk to her.”
“She’ll still have things to say!”
“I’m willing to fall on that grenade for you, Carson,” I say, and I mean it. As much as I hate the way this town gossips and hate being the subject of that gossip even more, I’ll let them all talk if it means I get to end this night in bed with her.
Carson looks like she’s considering it, but then her brow furrows, and she huffs out a sigh. “No. This is stupid. I’m in a CVS, hiding from my high school English teacher. I’m twenty-five years old! I can buy condoms!”
She stands, squares her shoulders, and reaches for the Trojans I was going for. “These?” she asks, her voice quivering only a tiny bit. When I nod, she grabs them, turns, and starts walking to the register.
I keep my eye on Mrs. Eberle, who hasn’t noticed us. She’s in first aid, contemplating the virtues of various Band-Aids. Carson leads me straight to the self checkout, which I think is a good move until the damn machine starts talking.
At maximum volume.
“Please scan your Extra Care Card,” it screams, shattering the silence of the too-bright drug store, and like a dog hearing a potato chip bag opening from three rooms away, Mrs. Eberle’s head pivots straight toward us.
I feel like I’m in a horror movie trying to escape a killer, and from the pricks of sweat at my temples, my body thinks so too.
It seems to takes Mrs. Eberle a minute to place us, but as soon as she does, she plucks a box of Band-Aids from the shelf and makes her way directly toward us.
Carson frantically smashes buttons on the screen, desperately trying to make the automated system work faster, but it just keeps yelling at her about her fucking Extra Care Card.
“Forget it, we’re caught,” I mutter, seconds before my least favorite high school teacher stops right in front of us, a smile on her face but questions in her eyes.
“Well, hello, you two,” she says, her eyes dropping down to the blue box in Carson’s hand. Carson’s eyes follow Mrs. Eberle’s gaze to the condoms, then dart toward the door, and for a wild a moment, she looks like she might simply throw the box and run.
I ready myself to bolt with her like a thief in the night. I’ll willingly participate in whatever crime she wants to commit.
Instead, Carson plasters on her fakest smile. “Hi, Mrs. Eberle.”
“What are you two doing out so late?” she asks with a pointed look at the condom box.
I’m seconds away from telling the old bat to mind her own business when Carson shrugs.
“Wyatt called for a refill. She and Owen cannot keep their hands off each other. We’re on our way over there for movie night, but I highly doubt the two of them will make it through Space Jam without sneaking off. You know how in love they are!”
The computer beeps and spits out a receipt, which Carson rips from the printer before pivoting on her heel and marching out. She’s clutching the box of condoms so tightly in her fist that the cardboard crunches.
“Space Jam?” I ask as we tumble back into the car. She’s already giggling hysterically.
“It’s the first movie that came to mind!” she says, hiccupping with laughter.
“I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think she bought it,” I say, gesturing to my mis-buttoned shirt and her wet, wild hair. I laugh. “Mrs. Eberle’s going to have quite the story to tell.”
“Owen’s going to kill me,” she says, gasping.
“Owen and Wyatt would absolutely fuck while watching Space Jam, and you know it,” I say.
I fire up the car and stomp on the gas pedal.
That whole scene was hilarious, but now the reality is setting in that there’s a box of condoms in Carson’s lap and an empty house waiting for us no more than a five-minute drive from here.
“If you need me to put on Space Jam when we get home to put you in the mood, just let me know.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting in the mood with you, Dan McBride,” Carson purrs, sending all the blood in my body straight to my cock.
I barely register the drive home. By the time we screech to a halt outside the little house, I’m practically ravenous for her.
I throw the door open and race around the car, taking her hand and dragging her out, then plant a kiss on her lips and slip my hand up her dress before I tug her up the path to the door.
“Down, boy,” she giggles, trotting after my long strides.
“It’s your fault for being so goddamn fuckable,” I grumble.
While she fumbles with her keys, I press against her from behind, dragging my lips and tongue along the shell of her ear. I coast my hands up her thighs, grasping her hips and pulling her ass back into my lap.
“Do I need to wait until we’re in your bedroom, or can I strip this dress off of you and fuck you against the inside of this door?” I growl.
“Why not both?” she murmurs.
A groan rumbles out of me as the door clicks open. With my hands firmly on her soft hips, I shove her inside, the two of us tripping over each other. I’m reaching for the zipper on her dress when Carson goes rigid.
And that’s when I notice we’re not alone.
There’s a woman sitting on the couch, her gray hair in a curly bob, a T-shirt reading trust in the lord always stretched across her ample bosom. She’s been flipping through a magazine, but now she’s looking at us with a wide—if suspicious—smile.
“Surprise!” she says.
I can’t see Carson’s face since I’m standing behind her, but I can picture her wide eyes, her lips parted in silent shock.
“Mom?”