level of fanciness?”
“Ava said he was fancy, and I trust Ava.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God.”
He glanced up as a new customer entered, and she saw his jaw get tight, that Marine look stealing over his face – there was no such thing as an ex-Marine, after all. “Your boyfriend’s here.”
She nearly choked on the bite she’d just taken. “My what?”
A glance proved that Carter was walking across the shop – or, had been, before her dad’s look brought him up short. He glanced uncertainly between her and her dad. “Um…”
“It’s fine, Carter,” she said, motioning toward the counter. “He doesn’t bite.”
To her dad, after Carter had skirted around him and headed for the counter: “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Then why’s he coming in here all the time now?”
“Are you going to turn away a paying customer?”
He folded his arms. “I am if he’s got ill-intentions toward my daughter.”
The statement deserved such a dramatic eye-roll, she decided not to attempt it and risk pulling something. “I’m the last person on earth Carter Michaels is interested in romantically. But we are friends, and have been for years. Plus, I’m almost thirty: the dad-with-a-shotgun routine isn’t cute anymore.”
He grumbled, but pushed off and returned to the counter. She watched him go, ready to interfere if he said anything to Carter; but he didn’t. Went over to the cappuccino machine and let Noelle fill Carter’s order.
That look, though, had caused some doubt. Carter stood with his wrapped sandwich and a green tea after he turned away from the counter, surveying the tables – few of which were available – and darting Leah a questioning glance.
She waved him over. “Please ignore my dad. He’s regressing, apparently.”
“I heard that!” Marshall called from behind the counter.
Carter’s face went pink as he dropped into the chair across from her. “I told you he doesn’t like me,” he whispered.
“He likes you fine. He thinks you’re trying to seduce me, or whatever. And won’t listen to any of my assertions that we are definitely just friends.”
His face went blank a moment. “Oh. Okay, well.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “It’s good he’s protective, I guess.”
“It’s ridiculous, is what it is.” She took a bite of her own sandwich and chased it with coffee. “Subject change: you were dressed like that yesterday, too.” She nodded toward his outfit: shorts and t-shirt, sneakers, no cut or wallet chain in sight. “You hitting the gym? I thought Ghost had a weight room at the clubhouse.”
“No. He does. I’m…” He hesitated, regarding his sandwich with undue attention. “I’m actually doing some coaching.”
“Of…?”
“The varsity quarterback over at the high school. I’m helping him work on his long ball.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected at all.
Whatever her face did in response, it had him saying, in a rush, “It’s nothing official. I’m not charging him or anything. I wouldn’t even call it coaching, really. We’ve met a few times at the park, and I’m giving him some pointers. He already had the raw talent, it was just that he needed some tips, and Coach isn’t–”
“Breathe, Carter.”
He exhaled unsteadily.
“I think that’s great,” she said, and meant it; hoped he could hear that she meant it. “It’s great,” she repeated. “I was surprised is all, because you’re…” Belatedly, she realized what she was about to say, and the way it might be perceived.
“A criminal?” he guessed, rueful smile pulling at his mouth. He looked unbearably sad in that instance.
She wished she could start over, but that wasn’t possible; all she could do now was try to smooth what she’d already said. “No, not that. I’m pro-Lean Dog, remember? But I didn’t know if you were still involved in anything football related.” Gently: “Sometimes it’s hard to pick back up where you left off when your role is different. It’s probably hard to be the coach instead of the athlete.”
His brows lifted, and his face smoothed with surprise. “Actually…it’s not as hard as I thought.”
“Really?”
“No. I thought it would be. I have a hard time watching a game sometimes. It feels like I’m left out. And I thought it would be that way working with Elijah, but…” She watched realization break over him, as golden and beautiful as a sunrise, his blue eyes dancing with light beneath the soft glow of the overhead lamps.
God, it was a good thing she didn’t go for pretty boys, because sometimes Carter was gorgeous enough to stop a girl in her tracks.
“Watching him get better makes me feel good, you know?” he said, nearly