Chapter Thirteen
Kenna
Sipping my coffee, I contemplate making excuses to skip this morning’s excursion to the coffee shop. After last night, if I goanywherewith him, he might get the wrong idea. Then again, I promised Amelia she’d get to meet the baby. I really don’t want to disappoint her.
There’s a knock on the basement door and my insides quiver.
I tamp down the butterflies dancing in my stomach as I try to forget about lying in bed last night wondering what it would have felt like if he’d been lying next to me. I swallow this burgeoning feeling of… utterly and completely falling for someone.
After heaving out an explosive sigh, I shout, “Come in!”
Footsteps echo off the stairway walls, and then Carter appears. He tilts his head. “You forget to use the chain?”
“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t think it was necessary.”
Oh my God, Kenna. What are you doing? Now he probably thinks I wanted him to come down here last night.
There’s a moment of awkwardness where we’re not sure what to say to each other. I mean, what do you say to someone after what happened last night?
Is he still thinking about it? Is he wondering how far it would have gone had we not been interrupted by Amelia? Is he wondering what it would have felt like? How we would have been together? How many times we would have settled for?
Yeah, I should definitely bail on coffee.
Amelia comes skipping out of the bathroom and squeals, “Carter!”
Before I can stop her, she runs over and plows into him, giving him a hug.
“Amelia, no!” When I race over and peel her away, I visibly cringe at the paint stains all over Carter’s pants. I cover my mouth, horrified. I’d sent her to the bathroom to wash the finger paints off her hands, but she still has on the old shirt she was using as her smock. And it’s covered with fresh paint. Because… why wouldn’t it be? My daughter does know how to make a fabulous mess. “Carter, I am so sorry.”
He looks down at himself to see why I’m apologizing. But instead of being irritated, like Cyrus most certainly would have been, he’s smiling. And laughing. “It’s okay. Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”
He walks over to the table and picks up one of Amelia’s ‘works of art.’ He almost looks like a proud father as he admires it. Amelia sidles up next to him, her hands now clasped in front of her, and he ruffles her hair. “You’re very talented, little lady.”
Her little nose scrunches. “What does talented mean?”
“It means you paint very well. Keep it up, and who knows, you might grow up to be a famous artist.”
Amelia beams, her face cracking with a smile so huge and luminous it makes my heart burst.
I chuckle inwardly when I look at the same messy, goopy, splotchy ‘painting’ Carter’s looking at, amazed at how he turns even the smallest of things into opportunities of praise.
Cyrus, on the other hand? Well, let’s just say he’d most likely have docked my salary to pay for the clothes she ruined, lectured me on controlling my kid, and reminded me we were basically guests in his home. And I’d have felt so guilty about it, I’d have done things in bed that I normally despised.
But Carter—I shake my head. He’s turning out to be the opposite of Cyrus in every way. The thought does nothing tosquelch the feelings I was having earlier. The ones I’m having now. The ones I have every single time I look at him.
“If you give me your clothes, I’ll wash them. The paints are water-soluble, so it should come out.” He goes to undo his belt, and I hold up a hand. “I didn’t meannow.”
He laughs loudly. “Got you good.”
I roll my eyes and realize the awkwardness is gone. I point up the stairs. “Go change.”
He winks. “I knew you’d find a way to get my pants off.”
My cheeks flame so badly I have to turn away. “Oh my God. Go!”
More laughter trails behind him as he ascends the stairs.
A few minutes later, his clothes in the wash, the three of us are stepping outside into a beautiful sunny day.
