“Or maybe you were made for me.” I poked him, and he captured the finger, bringing it to his lips. “And I can’t get enough of you either, but I’m not your wifeyet.”
“Something I plan on amending very soon.” He wiggled his brows proudly. “Is my dick your kryptonite?” He practically begged for the affirmation.
“He’s certainly something.” I murmured, and laid back down, at a loss for poetic words. “He’s a hell of a lot better than the unicorn horn, that’s for damn sure.”
Carter barked a laugh. “I should hope so. And by the way, you can bounce on mybanana dickas long as you want, because even if you ride him until the sun goes down—he’sneverfalling off.” Carter’s chest shook with laughter, and I rolled my eyes, while he absentmindedly played with my hair.
Suddenly, I sucked in a sharp breath, and stilled.
“What’s wrong?” He tensed, head lifting out of the grass, hand flying to my injury in worry. “Are you in pain? Was I too rough?”
“Never.” I murmured and brushed my fingers over the inside of his arm, discovering a tattoo I’d never seen before—two tiny little Sour Patch candies hidden in his floral sleeve.Our candy.Holding hands. One yellow, one blue.“How long have you had this?” My gaze snapped to his.
His expression went sheepish. “Got it the day I left.” Thecorner of his mouth pulled as he admitted quietly. “I told you I’d think about you everyday I was gone, and I did. Every single day.” I gazed into his eyes, those final questions inside me finally settling for good. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve always loved you, Sara, and I always will.”
I smiled, and laid my head back down on his chest, running my fingers over his skin where our tattoo was.Ours.
He played with my hair as I laid there and stared at his tattoo, at theflowershe’d gotten in honor of his mother, and I suddenly had a realization.
“Carter,” my gaze lifted to the flowers all around us. “I overheard Tag and his father talking about finding a painting with roses.”
Carter hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, there was a woman who’s been checking all the paintings at the estate for some information.”
“They said it was blackmail. Do you know anything about it?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Apparently, my father hid something behind my mother’s favorite painting.” He followed my gaze, realization slowly dawning on him.
“What if it’s not an actualpaintingat all?” I breathed, “What if it’s in your mother’s—rose garden.” We said in unison.
“You’re incredible.” He kissed me hard, being mindful of my bruised face. “You know that?”
“Oh, I know.” I mused, smirking. “And I don’t plan on letting you forget it.”
CHAPTER 59
Shovels and Pennies
SARAFINA
I grimaced as Carter paused his digging and rested a hand atop the shovel. He panted, looking mildly distressed as he surveyed his mother’s now torn-up rose garden. “We’ll find it.” I encouraged, passing him a cold bottle of water. We needed to find it soon or at least take a break. I was worried about his shoulder. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was in pain.
Carter guzzled the bottle down to the last drop. “What if I just destroyed all this for nothing?” He grimaced, wiping his brow. “I mean, it could be anywhere. We’re probably just digging up another pile of decade-old pennies my mother buried. We could dig for months and still not find it.”
He was right, the metal detector was lighting up all over the place, because there were literally pennies everywhere. I wondered if that was exactly what his father had intended. “Maybe if I go upstairs, I can get a better view?” I offered at my wit’s end.
“When you come back will you bring me another bottle of water?” He asked, looking all too exhausted.
“Of course.” I nodded, shoulders sagging as he started back in with the shovel.
Upstairs, I realized the best view of the garden was in the south wing, and it didn’t take me long to realize his parent’sbedroom was positioned with a perfect view. Because of course it was, his mother had probably planted the garden on that side of the house so she could look at it more often.
I hesitated before pushing the door open and finally slipping into the dark room. As I dragged the heavy brocaded drapes open, I coughed, a cascade of dust tumbling loose. The housekeepers had clearly left this room alone.
As I scanned the garden from the window, an odd pattern of flowers caught my attention, but before I headed back down to check it out, I couldn’t help but take a lingering look at Carter, shirtless, sweaty, and sexy as hell, his muscles rippling with his every movement—then my heart froze, crossing the lawn, headed straight for the gardens was a tattooed man with a small army of men behind him.
I struggled to force the old heavy window open, only prying it up a mere inch—I screamed through the crack at Carter in warning.
His gaze snapped up to mine, and then across the garden. “Hide.” He belted a panicked scream.
