. . Carter, I’m so ashamed. You were so good to me, so good for me. You made me better than I was. I’ve been thinking about you. Thinking about you a lot.”
“What about—” He had to dig for the name. “James?”
She rolled those sultry eyes. “My mistake. My punishment for hurting you. It didn’t take me long to realize he was just a reckless adventure. He was a boy compared to you, Carter. Please say you forgive me.”
“It’s old business, Corrine.”
“I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me. Give me a chance to show you.” She walked back to him, trailed her fingers over his cheek. “You remember how it was with us, how good it was. We could have that again. Carter.” She wound around him. “You could have me again. You just have to take me.”
“I think we should—”
“Let’s be sensible later.” She pressed in as he tried to ease her back. “I want you. I want you so much. I can’t think about anything else.”
“Wait. Stop. This isn’t going to—”
“All right. You’re the boss.” With that sparkling smile in place, she tossed her hair. “We’ll talk first, all you want. Why don’t you pour me a glass of wine and we’ll . . . Is something burning?”
“I don’t—Oh, hell.”
He raced to the kitchen, and Corrine’s smile went sharp. This would take more time and effort, she realized. But she didn’t mind the challenge. Actually, she thought, the fact that Carter hadn’t come to heel as she’d expected only made him more exciting. And it would make seducing him all the more satisfying.
After all, the one place he hadn’t bored her was in bed.
She softened her smile as she heard him coming back.
“Sorry, I was cooking something. Corrine, I appreciate the apology and the . . . offer, but—Sorry,” he repeated at the knock on the front door.
“It’s all right. I’ll wait.”
With a shake of his head, Carter walked out to open the door. His brain, already on overload, hit the red zone when he saw Mac.
“Hi. Peace offering.” She held out a bottle of wine. “I handled things badly, and I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to do better. If you’re up for that, I thought maybe you could come over for dinner tonight. Maybe bring a bottle of wine. Hey, that’s a nice label you’ve got there.”
“You—I—Mackensie.”
“Who is it, Carter?”
Not good, was all Carter could think. This could not be good, as Corrine strolled out. He saw shock rush over Mac’s face.
“This isn’t—”
“Oh, wine, how nice.” Corrine took the bottle from Carter’s numb hand. “Carter was just about to pour me a glass.”
“Actually, I . . . Mackensie Elliot, this is Corrine Melton.”
“Yes, I know. Well, enjoy the wine.”
“No. Don’t.” He all but leaped out the door to grab her arm. “Wait. Just wait. Come inside.”
She shook his hand off. “Are you joking? Grab me again,” she warned, “you’ll have more than a bruise on your jaw.”
She stalked off to a car he realized wasn’t hers as Corrine called out from the doorway.
“Carter! Sweetie, come inside before you catch cold!”
Routine, he thought? Had he actually been worried about falling into the rut of routine?
MAC STORMED INTO THE HOUSE. “WHERE THE HELL IS everybody?” she shouted.
“We’re back in the kitchen! We’ve been trying your cell,” Emma called out. “Get back here.”
“You would not believe the day I had. First I run into Carter’s sexy ex in the shoe department at Nordstrom, which nearly spoiled my petty pleasure in having my mother’s car towed. Why didn’t anyone bother to tell me she was gorgeous?” Mac complained and tossed her coat on a stool.
“And as if that wasn’t bad enough with all sexy and sultry in these fabulous red peep-toes and her Catwoman with a whip voice, I spent sixty bucks on a bottle of wine as a peace offering to Carter, and another eighty at the market buying all this crap to fix a makeup dinner for him and what do I find when I go by his place? What do I find? I’ll tell you what I find. Her. Her in a black cashmere sweater cut down to here, with just enough pink lace under it to say, dive in, honey. And he stands there, introducing us, all flustered and befuddled.
“Now she’s drinking my goddamn wine.”
Parker held up both hands. “Wait a minute. Carter was with Corrine—his ex?”
“Didn’t I just say that? Isn’t that what I said? And she’s ‘Oh, sweetie,