Of course I do. Maybe he’s a bastard extraordinaire, but, honestly? I’m kind of used to the guy.
And I’d never leave Susa even if I was tired of Carter.
Life wouldn’t feel right without both of them in my bed every night. We’ve lived like this for so long now that in my head they are both my spouses, even if all we can tell people is that we’re close friends.
Even if I look like a pitiful professional third-wheel at this point.
I don’t care.
Because Carter and Susa know the truth. That’s good enough for me.
He locks up that house and we return to his car. He points at the privacy fence both houses share. “No one can see someone coming and going. You park there, or even in the garage, and walk over. We’ll put a gate in. If anyone is here or there for a party and they ask about it, well,duh. We’re friends. Why wouldn’t we have a gate?”
“Not sick of me yet?” I was only teasing, and had broken from his side to round the car.
With those spooky-fast reflexes of his, he grabs my hand and jerks me back, all business when he stares into my eyes again. “What part ofminedidn’t I make clear?” he softly asks.
I swallow hard. “Sorry, Sir.”
His gaze softens again and he squeezes my hand, pulls me in one last time to brush his lips over mine before donning his sunglasses. It’s an incredibly rare PDA that proves to me how deadly serious he is. “Let’s get back to the office. We’ll grab something to eat on the way.”
“Has Susa seen these?”
“Nope.” He reaches for his door.
“Are you showing them to her?”
“Why?”
Okay,nowI’m going to be stubborn. “Uh, so she can give her opinion.”
He opens his door, one hand on the top of it, one on the roof. “Why?”
“Seriously, Carter?”
Behind his sunglasses, I see an eyebrow arch.
Bastard mode: engaged.
“Sorry, Sir,” I mumble and head for my side of the car.
He smirks. “That’s better,boy. I’ll let that one slide because I’m in a good mood.”
But as we head back west to find food and return to work, I’m left confused about whyI’mthe one who gets to basically sign off on our new home.
I also know better than to question Sir about it.
Chapter Forty
Part of me is sad to leave the New Tampa house, but I know Carter is right.
Plus the move makes Susa happy. She loves the new houses, loves the idea of the ready-made cover story.
Loves that it’s one step closer to her own run for office.
Loves that it means she gets to help me with my campaign.
I give her free rein—or maybe that would be reign, considering who she is to me—in “my” house. I honestly don’t care what it looks like. It shouldn’t look like a clone of “their” house, and the decor should look like something I might pick for myself. That’s Carter’s only two stipulations. Well, and the budget. He sets one for her despite knowing she can easily afford to get whatever she wants.
