“You’re probably right. Even though it feels more like work than going into Hot Rod’s, I’d probably miss getting that time with my family,” Carson reluctantly admitted. “That means the only other option is to figure out a way to keep you around so you can be in charge of decorating. We’ll get done quicker, and then we can sit around and have hot cider until Mom sends us out to hang the lights on the house.”
“Man, could your family be any more cliché?” It wasn’t until the words were out of my mouth and Carson started laughing that I realized how horrible my comment sounded. “I’m sorry. I just meant that when you tell me about everything your mom has you doing for the holidays, it really does seem like the start of the plot for a made-for-TV movie.”
“Yeah, for all I know, that’s where she gets her insane ideas.” Carson hefted the industrial mixing bowl into the soapy water, tipping it onto its side to fill with suds. “The woman is obsessed. Can you believe they’ve already been playing for over a month? Every week when we go over for dinner, she’s got one on.”
It was a good thing he hadn’t looked at the favorited channels on my cable box. As I cleaned, I imagined what it would be like to sit down with Eleanor once all the cookies were baked and watch a feel-good movie while her sons worked to get the lights strung across the roofline and woven through the spindles on the front porch. It didn’t seem like a horrible way to spend an evening.
With the two of us working together, it took almost no time to get the kitchen cleaned. I followed Carson out the back door of the bakery, trying to figure out how I could get the gingerbread pieces packed and ready to go without him knowing since he was my only transportation for the next few days. I made a mental note to ask Shiloh to help me. In exchange, I’d give him my full blessing to set up the event, and I’d even offer to work the event off the clock.
On the short drive home, Carson explained the delay in fixing my car. When he’d originally told me it would take longer than anticipated, I’d suggested picking it up and then dropping it off once the parts came in, but he hadn’t been a fan of that. There’d been a brief moment when I’d worried I was mistaking his concern for control. The sincerity in his voice reassured me I wasn’t reading the situation wrong. Even though he tried convincing everyone he was distant, he had a heart of gold. He didn’t want me driving my car because he didn’t want me breaking down on the side of the road. That was pretty dang sweet.
Carson pulled into my assigned parking stall, but tonight, he didn’t turn off the engine. He turned in his seat and rested his hand on the armrest between us. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if there was something he wanted to say but kept second-guessing himself. I rested my hand on top of his, which earned me one of those brilliant smiles that shone all the way to the corners of his eyes. “I wish I could be rude and invite myself in, but I have to get to dinner with my family. Unless we’re out of town, it’s expected that we all show up at Mom’s every Friday night.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “And you wonder why I said your family seemed like something out of a TV movie.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re probably right.” He scrubbed at the coarse hair on his cheek. “Thank you, Ezra.”
“For what?” I needed to be the one thanking him. He didn’t have to be my chauffeur, but he’d reworked his schedule around mine the past few days. And when I’d asked him about it, he swore that wasn’t the case.
He threaded our fingers together, giving mine a gentle squeeze. “You’re making me look at things in a different light. What I see as routine and a pain-in-the-ass obligation, you see as something cool. I probably sound like a total bag of dicks, complaining all the time because of my family when it’s easy for me to forget not everyone has that.”
“Well then, you’re welcome.” I should get out of the truck. He had places to be. When he started leaning across the console, I held my breath, wondering if he was finally going to kiss me. I’d been obsessed with the idea of feeling his lips against mine, of learning what it felt like to have someone claim my mouth. I’d heard the phrase often, but it was foreign to me.
I’d have bet money Carson was an expert kisser. Even if we were well-matched in the sense we’d both never been with a man, he probably had plenty of experience.
I froze when he reached up, cupping my cheek in his rough palm. He cleared his throat. “Are you still up for tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I confirmed. “If you were hoping to scare me away by telling me about your family, you’ve done a poor job.”
“Then I’ll pick you up a little before eight.” His hand was still pressed to my cheek, and I leaned into the touch.
Tomorrow, I hoped I’d be brave enough to do the same to him so I’d know what his beard felt like against my skin. “Can you make it about seven-thirty if that’s not too early? I need to run by Shiloh’s before we go to your parents’ place, if that’s okay.”
“Then I’ll see you at seven-thirty,” he confirmed. “Do you want me to swing by the Hearth & Foam on my way here?”
“I’d love you forever if you would.” I clapped a hand over my mouth and groaned. “I mean, yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“Damn, if I knew that’s all it would take to make sure you fall for me, I’d have brought coffee every day this week. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ezra.” I took that as a dismissal and unbuckled. His hand drifted down my arm, giving my forearm a gentle squeeze before breaking contact.
I swallowed hard as I opened the door. “I’ll see you then.”
I stood in the entryway, watching as Carson backed out of the parking stall. After checking my mail, I glanced out the door one more time in case I could still see his brake lights as he drove away. With nothing and no one to occupy my Friday night, I heated up some leftovers and turned on my guilty pleasure.
12
CARSON
By Friday,I was officially losing my shit. The parts for Ezra’s car still hadn’t come in. Something about being on backorder and no one having the part in stock. That meant I was his chauffeur, which was a job I didn’t mind at all. It was surprising how much I’d gotten to know about him during the short drive between his apartment and the bakery.
The problem was, every time I dropped him off, it took every ounce of willpower I had to not lean over the console and kiss him.
Tonight, I’d almost given in to temptation. But Billy’s warning had me stopping a split second before I took the plunge. Before I took that leap, I needed to know for certain this wasn’t just some sort of perverse curiosity or fooling myself because I was jealous of the happiness my brothers had found. Which was why it was time for a fresh perspective.
“Hey, little brother,” Anson answered. The tapping against the mechanical keyboard told me he was still at the office, and I was on speaker. I hated when he did that because I never knew if he was actually listening to me.
“You busy?” If he was, I’d just talk to him when I got to family dinner, although that ran the risk of the rest of the family overhearing what was going on, and I didn’t want that. Maybe I’d give Waylon a call. He’d never been with a man when he and Jasper met, and they were the most oddly perfect pair I’d seen in a long time.
“Nope, just wrapping up a ratification on a contract so I can get the hell out of here for the weekend.” He said that as if there was a snowball’s chance in hell he’d be able to work over the next two days. Mom would drive down to the office and drag him out of there by his ear if she had to. “You heading out to Mom and Dad’s for dinner?”
