The flash of a shiny red Chevelle parked in the third row of the Bleachers lot stops me in the middle of the lane. Nibbling at the inside flesh of my lower lip, I glance around. No Carter. Did I miss him inside? Surely he would have flagged me down? Unless he’s pissed at how I rushed out of his bed yesterday. There can’t be another Chevelle in Rossview this beautifully restored with its candy apple red paint and black racing stripes over its hood. This is his car, I’m sure of it, but my legs lead me toward the vehicle for proof anyway. Proof in the form of a gym bag left in the back seat, a gym bag I find when I peer into the window.
I swing the backpack containing my discarded work uniform and shoes off my shoulder and dig in the front pocket. Maybe Carter parked here and met up with friends and went somewhere else. My fingers close around a pen as a sharp whistle causes me to jump. My head snaps up, hunting for the source. There, two rows back and off to the far left is another red car. My sun-faded, dented, and well-driven Acura, and leaning against the driver’s door is a much sexier sight. Carter Cooper wearing a bright white tee and a smile.
Burying my excitement at finding him here, I zip my bag and meander his way, my eyes admiring the view. He’s so damn gorgeous. No, the word doesn’t do him justice. Captivating, appealing, sexy, my mental thesaurus spits out alternatives to such a vanilla compliment as gorgeous. Irresistible, tantalizing.
Fuckable.
That one jumps to the front of the line. No denying it, Carter Cooper is fuckable. He straightens, making his six-foot frame taller, all while casually resting against my car door. It’s a gift, being so desirable while coming off bored. Not bored, but relaxed? That’s it, he’s relaxed. When I came upon him in the shed yesterday, he was tense. Today his smile extends from his mouth to his blue eyes. My nipples ache as they push against my cotton bra, puckering and turning hard. Their memory of Carter’s mouth is as fresh as mine.
“I was leaving you a note,” I say needlessly when I’m two cars away.
He remains nonchalant. “You were? What would it have said?”
My mouth opens, but I fail at producing a reply. What would it have said? I hadn’t gotten that far. I would likely have stood there for thirty minutes in my attempt at writing an amusing, sexy note, only to walk away, leaving nothing. “I guess you’ll never know.”
“Well, isn’t that just my luck.” He wrinkles his forehead, the corners of his mouth turning down, and I’m living for it. For the way his shoulders drop and his foot scuffs the asphalt. For the twinkle in his eyes as I round the final car between us.
“So, were you waiting for me?” I ask, dropping my backpack on my trunk and fluttering my eyes all innocent-like.
“Why would you think—” Carter removes his hands from his pockets and steps away from my car, slapping his hand over his slacked jaw. Spinning, he eyes my vehicle. “Wait, is this your car?”
“Ha. Ha.” I cross my arms.
Lifting a brow, he moves to stand before me, and I suck in a breath, inhaling a familiar scent of peppermint wafting off him. “Yeah, I was waiting for you. Who else would I be here to see?” He scratches his jaw, a rueful grin on his lips. “Okay, don’t answer that.”
I’m glad he corrects himself because I’m not up for a conversation about how many waitresses at my place of employment are biblically acquainted with this man. I’m not a prude, I’ve done my fair share of casual sex, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to pretend this boy I’ve crushed on for years wasn’t waiting for me to be the one. Oh hell, where did that come from? I shake the impossible thought from my mind. My gaze follows two couples walking toward Bleachers while I wait for Carter’s explanation of why he’s here.
“I planned on grabbing dinner before I heard you weren’t working.”
My thumb flicks over the leather tassel on my keychain. “Ahhh, yeah, Todd was prickly over my needing time off, and he cut me back to days. Apparently, I’m unreliable, and some girls bitched about it.”
“They’re aware of your dad’s injury, right?” His tone has a bite, and he glares over his shoulder at the