“Ready to go?”
I nodded.
“Bye, Mr. Carter!” Diego shouted from the dining room table, mouth full of his food.
“Goodnight, Diego.” Carter waved.
I quickly shut the door behind me after blowing Diego a kiss.
“I decided on Japanese for dinner. That alright with you?” He pressed the button for the down elevator before turning back to me for confirmation.
“I love sushi,” I answered, and then shivered when he reached back, placing his hand at my lower back as I stepped onto the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, my breath was stolen from me, when he moved to cup my face, pulling me into a powerful kiss. The purse I held slipped from my hands. I gripped his waist, steadying myself at the onslaught of his affection. His tongue moved over mine and I moaned into his mouth. I felt something hard and cool at my back and realized I was pressed against the wall of the elevator. Carter took his fill of me and I gave it all to him, unable to control my growing need.
Much too quickly he pulled away, still framing my face with his hands. “I couldn’t greet you the way I wanted to in front of your family.” He placed another quick kiss to my lips and the elevator doors slid open.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I mumbled. My mother nor Diego needed to see the way he kissed me, nor did I want them to see the completely dazed expression I saw on my own face as we passed the mirrors hanging on the wall directly in front of the elevators. “This is crazy,” I sighed, following closely behind Carter, my left hand tucked firmly into his right.
He glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve already established that, sugar.”
I shook my head, laughing lightly. We passed through the doors of my apartment building’s lobby to exit and directly in front of the door was a metallic colored GMC Denali. It was a huge car and I didn’t have to question who the owner was. My instincts were proved correct when Carter pulled his keys out of his pocket, pressing the unlock button and then holding the door open for me. He took my hand to help me step up in the vehicle and then closed the door.
“Do you eat Japanese regularly?” I questioned as we pulled off for the restaurant.
“On occasion. Mostly I grab whatever’s available at the station house.”
“You don’t cook?” I laughed when he made a face. “I should’ve known.” He probably grew up with all types of housekeepers and nannies and personal chefs. Of course he didn’t cook.
“I hate cooking for myself.”
“Of course you do. Can you even boil a pot of water?” I teased.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and I resisted the urge to reach across the center console and run my hand across his beard.
“My mother made sure all her boys knew how to cook.”
I leaned back, surprised. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “She said she didn’t want any lazy ass sons who only dated a woman because she knew how to cook and clean. And she didn’t want us to have to hire chefs and house cleaners because we didn’t know how to do shit for ourselves. It was a waste of money in her eyes.”
My brows dipped as I frowned. “How is that even possible? I saw your mother Friday night. She looked like the epitome of high-class and wealth who wouldn’t dare to have their children touch a dirty pot or pan.” I slapped my hand over my mouth after my statement, feeling ashamed of my judgmental comments.
“Looks can be deceiving, sugar. My mother wasn’t always wealthy. She grew up poor as hell. Her family is from the Appalachian Mountain region. Dirt poor. Hell, dirt poor’s a step up for where she came from.”
“Wow,” I stated, completely overcome by his honesty. I leaned my elbow against the console, resting my chin in my hand, giving him my complete attention. He continued to talk a little more about his mother and how she worked hard to go to school, studying mathematics at the university where she eventually met Robert Townsend.
We made it to the restaurant in about twenty minutes and Carter opted to have the car valeted, instead of searching for parking. Again, he held my hand as I exited his car, and didn’t let it go until he had to, to pull out my chair once we were at our table.
“We could sit at one of the community tables but I wanted you all to myself tonight.”
A shiver ran up my spine at his low words in my ear.
“I don’t want to share you either.” Those words fell from my mouth and for a split second I regretted them because they caused Carter’s eyes to darken, his breath quickening slightly. For a brief moment, I knew what it must’ve felt like to be in the crosshairs of a hunter’s rifle. That was how I felt from his sharp look. Like prey that didn’t stand a chance. And right then, I didn’t want to run or hide.
“You’re trouble,” I stated once he sat down across the table. “I knew it the day of my accident.”
A mischievous grin made its way to his face. “The good kind of trouble, sugar.”
“Is there such a thing?”
