My mouth tumbles open. “I can say with total honesty that I haveneverconsidered that possibility.”
I’d much rather wallop him upside the head. I’m only sorry that his reflexes are good and that he caught the remote control I threw at him the other night before it could smack him in the forehead.
How satisfying wouldthathave been?
Maybe Marnie and my mother have more in common than I’d originally suspected. She must be legitimately crazy to offer up that idea. I’ve learned enough about Carter Prescott to know that I’m not interested in discovering anything else.
Give him more of a chance?
Never!
Friday night wasn’t the first time he’s ruined one of my dates. The guy enjoys messing with me. It’s his favorite pastime. On top of that, he’s an arrogant, womanizing, football-playing jerk who likes to get into fights. I haven’t personally witnessed him getting into a physical altercation, but I’ve seen the aftermath on his face the next morning.
My eyes fasten on Carter through the window just in time to see him strip off his graphic tee and toss it onto one of the loungers scattered around the concrete patio. All his sun-kissed muscles ripple as he dives headfirst into the crystal-clear pool.
My mouth dries, and my heart picks up its tempo.
“Daisy?” Aunt Marnie’s voice sounds like it’s traveling through a tunnel from a million miles away as she waves a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Daisy.”
My face heats in embarrassment as I yank my gaze from the spot where Carter last stood. Under no circumstances do I want to watch him surface from the water. I’m liable to have a mini-orgasm right here in the kitchen.
I bite back a groan and try to pull myself together.
I don’t even like this guy!
No, seriously. I don’t!
My body obviously hasn’t received the memo. I really need to work on that.
“Yeah?” I say, trying to remain calm even though it feels like I’m experiencing a hot flash and my legs have grown shaky. I’d like to slap myself silly for the unwanted attraction zipping through me.
“Maybe,” Aunt Marnie says, picking up the thread of our previous conversation, “you should give it a try and see what happens.”
Ummm…no, thank you. I’ll take a hard pass on that proposal.
By the way she arches a brow, I have a feeling that my disgruntled expression conveys my thoughts perfectly.
“You know,” she pauses, her eyes fixed on something or someone beyond the kitchen window. She bites her lip in an unusual show of hesitation, which is odd for her.
I tilt my head and wait for her to continue.
Her gaze shifts back to me. “I know Carter seems?—”
“Cocky? Arrogant? Conceited?” And those are just off the top of my head. Give me a few moments, and I could come up with an endless supply of unflattering descriptors.
“No.” Her lips quirk and her eyes soften. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Huh.” I give her a puzzled expression. “I thought it was.”
“What I was going to say,” she repeats, ignoring me, “is that Carter comes across as a guy who’sself-assured, but?—”
“You know that’s just another word for cocky, right?”
This time, she gives me a flat look. One that tells me I’ve pushed her far enough. I promptly button my lip and allow her to continue without further interruption.
“Sometimes people feel the need to put up a front to cover what’s really going on inside.”
I frown at her vague explanation of the situation. Is she suggesting that Carter has reasons for acting the way he does? Reasons that have nothing to do with being an asshole?
