Crazy for Your Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #5)(3)
“You’re killing me,” I say, and the mic picks it up, making the crowd laugh.
Grinning, he passes the mic back to Molly and pulls me into his arms. I have no choice but to let him. Okay, I do have a choice. I could snatch that mic out of Molly’s hands and tell everyone that he’s a big, fat liar who is, in fact, single as a Pringle. But if I do that, tonight’s fundraiser might go all to hell, and as irritated as I am with Carter right now, I like him too much to sacrifice him to an angry mob of lust-crazed women.
And you do owe him, the little voice in my brain chides.
Fine. One very public night with Carter Jackson in exchange for him pretending he was my boyfriend for five minutes last year. Totally fair.
The band smoothly transitions into Etta James’s “At Last,” and Carter leads me into a dance onstage. I’m well aware of the heat of his body against mine. The smell of his aftershave fills my head and makes me forget this is Carter, my friend, not some guy who’s going to take me home and ravish me.
“Thank you for the incredibly generous donation, Carter,” Molly says as the song plays. “And thank you everyone for coming tonight, and of course a huge thanks to our sponsor, Jackson Brews. Don’t fret, ladies. Carter’s only the first of many bachelors ready to wine and dine you tonight. Stick around for your chance to bid on more men from the Jackson Harbor Fire Department, followed by dinner, dancing, and door prizes!”
“I cannot believe you used me to get out of this,” I growl in his ear. “Who knew you’d be so afraid of some handsy women?”
He chuckles and runs his big palms down the sides of my sexiest little black dress. A hot shiver races up my spine. “I thought it was genius. Thank you for playing along.”
I pull back enough to scowl at him. “You owe me so big.”
“How do you figure? You were returning a favor, remember?”
“I had to get onstage in front of hundreds of people.”
The band plays the closing chords of the song.
“Thank you,” says their vocalist. “And thank you to the beautiful couple on stage. You two look amazing together. Don’t they?”
The audience applauds.
“See what I mean?” I mutter. “This is hell.”
“Teagan, shut up and kiss me.”
Carter
I think I just stunned Teagan speechless, but now I have her in my arms.
Teagan Chopra. Teagan, who’s all mouth-watering curves and wicked humor. Teagan, who’s best friends with my brothers’ women and has become a fixture in my life.
Teagan, who’s friend-zoned me so many times that I vowed to stop fantasizing about her. But the moment she looks up at me with those big, dark eyes, I know my embargo on Teagan fantasies has been shot all to hell.
Truth be told, I’ve wanted to kiss Teagan Chopra for a long time now. Like, years. And, sure, I would’ve picked a different place than at a fancy-ass fundraiser in front of hundreds of people for our first time, but as I dip my head and touch my lips to hers, I decide I don’t care. I don’t care where we are or how long I had to wait.
“Carter,” she whispers against my lips. But the crowd roars its approval, and she gives a subtle shake of her head and a sigh of surrender. She slips her hand behind my neck, and her long fingers thread into my hair as she brings her lips to mine.
Her mouth is soft and sweet. I grip her hips, pulling her body against mine. I’m aware of every inch of her—every curve and plane, every hitch in her breath.
“That’s more like it,” the vocalist says. The band starts into Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud,” and someone pulls the curtain on the front of the stage, shielding us from the stares of the crowd and leaving us in darkness.
I keep her close for a beat, trailing my knuckles up her side and down again.
She trembles before stepping back, fingers to her lips. Even in the near darkness behind the curtain, I can see the worry on her face, and I don’t like it. “I haven’t had enough to drink for this.”
Damn. I don’t know what I expected to see or what I expected her to say, but her words hit me in the gut. I do my best to cover with humor. “Come on, I can’t be that bad at kissing.”
Her laughter breaks the tension. This is Teagan. Of course she’s not going to make a big deal out of a kiss. “If only you were, Carter. If only you were.”
As Molly introduces the next bachelor, I take Teagan’s arm and lead her through the service hallway so we can return to the party. “Was that a compliment?”
“Maybe.” She sighs. “Or maybe it’s been too long for me, and I’ve forgotten what it feels like.”
We stop at the double doors that lead into the Jackson Brews banquet room. “Any other physical sensations I can help you remember?”
She smacks me in the stomach with the back of her hand. “You are shameless.”
I turn up my palms. “What? I’m just offering.”
“Real selfless of you, Carter Jackson,” she says, but she’s still smiling, so I call it a win.
“Let me get you a drink. The least I can do.” Taking her hand, I lead her back into the fray and to the bar, where my brother Jake is flipping bottles in his best Cocktail impression, to the delight of the small crowd gathered there. “What are you drinking tonight?”