Crazy for Your Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #5)(12)
“I hope you will.”
“The whole drive from the hospital, I told myself I wanted to check on you.” He wraps his hands around his coffee and looks up at me through thick, dark lashes most women would pay a premium for. “But the second I walked in the door, I knew that wasn’t what brought me here. I want to finish what we started.”
I bite my lip and whimper. “You’re killing me.”
“And when you look at me like that, all I want to do is seduce you into ignoring your better judgment.”
That! my traitorous body cries. Yes, let’s do that!
“But I get it,” he continues. “We’re friends, and as tempting as I find you—as tempting as I’ve always found you—if adding sex to our friendship is out of the question for you, this conversation is over. I want you, but I’m not enough of an idiot to ruin this just to take you to bed.”
My brain stumbles on as tempting as I’ve always found you before landing on adding sex to our friendship. Is that an option? Does that ever work? Crap on a cracker. I’ve known Carter for four years, and I’ve never had to exert so much self-control for something as simple as not straddling his lap.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is low, a husky rumble that bypasses my brain and speaks directly to the parts of my anatomy I’d rather exclude from this conversation.
I’m thinking I want you too. I’m thinking we could be naked and in my bed in less than sixty seconds. “I’m thinking you should leave,” I blurt, pushing the words past the other really bad ideas on the tip of my tongue.
He blinks at me, then nods as he pushes out of his chair. “Sure. I understand.”
Jumping up, I catch his arm. I can feel the heat of his skin through the cotton of his shirt sleeve. “I’ve never done this.”
His eyes go wide. “Wow. I thought . . . Seriously?”
“Not sex, you idiot. The whole friends-with-benefits thing. I’m not sure I’m made that way.”
He’s quiet for a long beat. “If you need more than that from me, Tea, I—”
I press my fingers to his lips and shake my head before he can say anything else. I’m not hoping for more. More is out of the question for me with someone like Carter. But even so, I don’t want to hear that he doesn’t want anything either. I know it’ll feel like rejection—even if that makes me a hypocrite. “I don’t want more, but I don’t know if . . .”
I drop my hand from his mouth and lift onto my toes to press my lips to his. I want to know if it’ll feel like it did last night, and the second our mouths touch, I have my answer. Electric need zips through me. I loop my arms behind his neck, planning to take the kiss deeper.
He doesn’t let me. With a hand on either of my wrists, he pulls my arms away and steps back, his eyes dark. “I’ll go. You think. If we do this, it needs to be a decision, not an accident.”
I nod and watch him leave, but I stand there for a solid five minutes, considering running after him.
Carter
I drive around for a bit after leaving Teagan’s, trying to get my thoughts in order before facing my siblings and their well-intended, overly intrusive questions. I shouldn’t be disappointed by our conversation—by her caution—not when Teagan’s being the voice of reason that could very well save our friendship. But I am. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I want to prove those sexy cotton panties wrong. Can’t touch this. I’m competitive at heart, and her damn underwear was issuing a challenge I was dying to win.
Before I walked in her door and saw her in those ridiculous panties, her long legs on full display and her nipples visible through her cotton shirt, I’d had myself convinced I was only there to talk her down from her panic. I’d apologize that we got carried away and maybe laugh with her over coffee to reassure us both that nothing about our friendship was broken. But my visit with Isaiah left me raw, pulled memories too close to the surface that I prefer to keep buried deep. One look at her messy morning hair and I knew the perfect cure for my aching heart.
I still want her, consequences be damned, and her kiss today could have so easily become something more. Does she want that? Would it be a mistake?
By the time I park in front of Brayden’s, I’ve had a chance to cool off and am ready to face my family. I’m a little late, so the sound of our weekly brunch chaos meets me at the door. The clatter of dishes is the musical accompaniment to my family’s laughter and conversation.
Every Sunday, the whole Jackson crew, plus or minus a few regular guests, meets at my childhood home for brunch. Brayden lives in the old house with his fiancée, Molly, and her son, Noah. He moved in years ago, when Mom relocated to Ethan’s to help take care of my niece. At the time, none of us were ready to see Mom sell the house that holds all our childhood memories . . . and all our memories of our father. Brayden held down the fort until it was clear Mom wouldn’t be able to move back in. He officially bought it from her last summer. Legally, it might be Brayden’s, but I don’t think any of us will ever stop thinking of it as our home.
I follow my nose to the kitchen and find everyone’s beaten me here. Ethan’s feeding Nic a piece of fruit, his eyes focused on her mouth in a way that makes me look away fast. Ava and Jake are cooing over their infant daughter while Lilly bickers with Noah. Molly and Brayden are at the kitchen table, looking at spreadsheets on his laptop—workaholics getting one more fix before the meal. At the counter, Ellie and Levi are pouring mimosas and laughing together over some whispered secret. Mom is handing out plates, encouraging everyone to eat up, and Shay is monitoring the coffee.