Pastor Adams is positively putting a bad word in for me with God.
He’s doing a sucky-ass job of hiding his frustration while strolling in our direction.
My kiss with Carolina was hardly a peck, but from his heated face, you’d think Carolina was straddling me, naked, on the teeter-totter.
While delivering my best face of innocence, I shove my hand out when he reaches us. “Pastor Adams. It’s nice to see you again.”
He shakes my hand, his firm tight, while his lips form an irritated frown. “Rex, I appreciate you coming.”
“Anything I can do to help,” I reply with a big, friendly smile.
Rick’s gaze shifts to Carolina, and he jerks his chin toward the other side of the parking lot. “Your mom needs your help with the donation baskets.”
Carolina’s cheeks are as red as the roses I bought for her birthday this year. “Of course.” She signals toward the tables. “Let me wrap this up, and I’ll be right there.”
“Nah, I got it,” I say, waving my hand toward a table covered in baskets. “Go help your mom.”
“Thank you,” Carolina says, shooting me an apprehensive glance before turning her attention back to her father.
The fundraiser reminds me of a mini carnival. A large pavilion is set up over the tables and chairs. The children have plenty to entertain them—playground, jump house, clown, and a DJ blasting kid shit. Carolina arranged a silent auction, and those entering the spaghetti cook-off are arranging their food placements. I raise a brow when I spot the dunk tank. Mr. Rogers, the old high school football coach, was the dunk tank dude, but he recently moved.
Who’s taking his place?
I situate the tables and chairs exactly how Carolina does every time, and she returns minutes after I’m finished.
“Perfect timing. Show up right when the hard work is done,” I joke.
“You’re so hilarious.” She rolls her eyes while walking away, waving me to follow her. “Come on, my favorite helper. I have the perfect job for you.”
I follow her, having no shame in checking out her ass. “What’s this job?”
“You’ll see,” she sing-songs.
“That’s scary. Last time you said that, you auctioned me off for a date, forcing me to endure dinner with the town’s cat lady.”
“Ms. Gorgman is sweet.” Her voice is full of sarcasm.
“She asked for her cake to go with the intention of me licking it off her later—verbatim.” I shudder, reliving the moment in my head.
“Oh, please. I doubt it was the first time you licked food off a woman.”
“Not cake, and most definitely not off a sixty-five-year-old woman who has the stench of cat piss.”
“Lucky for you, it’s not a date auction.”
“Better not, or be prepared to drop your savings to buy a date with your boy.” I signal down my body. “You know this sells for big money.”
She scoffs. “Calm down, Casanova. Your job is way better than paid dates.”
When she stops, a groan leaves me.
“The dunk tank? Not fucking happening.” I make a circle around my head. “Do you know how long it takes to perfect this look?”
“Five minutes,” she deadpans.
Next argument point coming. “I don’t have dry clothes to change into.”
“You’re covered. I brought some of yours from the loft.”
“I love how well you planned this out without telling me.” My finger moves to my chin, tapping it, as her face floods with delight. “If I recall correctly, whenever I ask for my clothes back, you say once they make it to your place, they’re no longer mine. Sorry, babe, but I can’t change into your clothes. It looks like you’ll be sitting your pretty ass in that tank.”
The thing looks like a death trap with the wire net around the tank and the red target on the bright yellow backstop.
It’s her turn to signal to her hair. “It takes me a good hour to do this work of art.” She grins, slapping my shoulder. “I win. Follow me, and I’ll show you where to change and shower when you’re done.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’m only doing this because I love your ass.”
She grins wildly. “I know.”
How does she always manage to talk me into this shit?
I’ve been chilling in the dunk tank for a good thirty minutes, and I have yet to go underwater.
One reason might be that only kids have played.
I’m ninety percent sure that will change when Molly hands Maliki the ball.
Shit.
“Dude,” I blurt out, shifting in the uneasy wooden seat, the ice-cold water up to my knees. “Hand the ball back to the kid, and I’ll buy you a round of beers.” I pause to hold up four fingers. “Make that four rounds.”
Today’s goal is to not get wet.
Maliki turns his hat backward, throwing the ball up in the air and catching it. “Did you forget that I own a bar and get my beer for dirt cheap?”
“Fifty bucks then!”
He continues tossing the ball in the air.
“I’ll give you permission to marry my sister.”
“He doesn’t need your permission,” Sierra pipes in before throwing her attention to Maliki. “Dunk him.”
“Why don’t you allow me the honors?”
The crowd, filled with grown-ups and children, part as Rick comes through, all dramatic and shit. He stops in front of Maliki and holds out his hand. Maliki shoots me an apologetic look before passing the ball to Rick. My eyes widen when Rick faces me, and the serious expression on his face confirms he’s determined to make this shot.
I’m unclear why Pastor Adams has a beef with me, but I thought after our breakfast, we were cool.
“Dad,” Carolina warns, catching on to the tension.
“What?” Rick asks, acting clueless. “It’s a game.” His eyes flash my way, meeting mine. “Right, Rex?”
“Just a game,” I repeat, hoping he’s never been an avid baseball player. “Let him have at it.”
Everyone’s attention is on us as they watch my girlfriend’s dad stretch his arm back as if he were throwing the winning pitch at the World Series and then chucks the ball toward the target. The crowd jumping up and down notifies me he’s going to hit the target, and seconds later, my seat collapses, dropping me into the pit of freezing water.
“Holy shit,” I can’t stop from yelling as I come up for air before standing.
Rick doesn’t pay me another glance while handing the ball to Maliki. “Your turn.” Without waiting for his response, he spins around and walks away.
Aren’t pastors supposed to be understanding, kind people?
That’d better have been a truce.
Maliki raises a brow in my direction as I shiver like a wet dog. “Seems you’re bonding well with your future father-in-law.”
“Never had a better relationship,” I reply, my teeth chattering as I wrap my arms around my body.
“Thank you for getting wet for me.”
Carolina is leaning against a wall in the hallway when I step out of the church restroom, wearing fresh, dry clothes.
Lucky for me, after being dunked by her father, my job ended. Carolina had a towel waiting for me when I jumped out of the tank, and I wrapped it around my body while rushing inside the church, barefoot. She was behind me, asking for a volunteer to be the next dunk tank victim, but no takers were speaking up. Not surprising. I doubt my fall looked enjoyable.
I drop the bag of clothes onto the floor and run my hands through my damp hair. “Next time, put me at the kissing booth.”
She shakes her head, pushing off the wall. “Never happening, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Why not?” I pick up the bag and throw it over my shoulder, walking in step with her. “Would you be jealous?”
We turn down a hall, passing volunteers, and my hand finds hers, weaving our fingers together.
Us doing this is more comfortable than I ever thought it’d be.
It might be only holding hands, something we’ve done countless times, but it’s more than platonic now.
She looks up at me with a radiant smile. “Absolutely, and you’d be the same if it were the other way around.”
“Nah, I’d cut in line and buy all your kisses.”
I grunt when I’m pulled down a vacant hallway and pushed into a dark room. While I wrap my head around what’s happening, the door slams shut behind us, and Carolina’s lips hit mine.
It’s a sweet kiss.
Minimal tongue.
Lasts only seconds.
Her eyes search mine as she pulls her mouth away, but she doesn’t move. “I’ve wanted to do that since you agreed to the dunk tank.”
I lick my lips to taste her. “It was my pleasure.”
She snorts. “It definitely wasn’t.”
“You’re right.” I kiss the tip of her nose and stare into her beautiful eyes. “You can make it up to me later.”
“Question.”
My eyes sweep over to Carolina at her … question. She’s sitting next to me in one of the two remaining chairs we left after cleanup. I’m in the other.
It’s dark, nearly ten o’clock, and the fundraiser has ended. A group of people stayed behind and helped clean up, but it’s only us now. Rick has dodged me since he dunked my ass, but I remind myself to reach out to him and figure out what’s on his mind. My guess is, he’s unhappy that Carolina and I are so serious yet not married. For as long as I’ve known Carolina, she’s expressed her parents stress marriage and abstinence.
I’m tired, every muscle in my body aches, and I can’t wait to go home and collapse onto the couch.
“Answer,” I reply, stretching my legs out in front of me.
“Can you clarify this?” She signals between us.
I raise a brow in confusion even though I’m not confused about shit. “Huh?”
“What’s going on with us?” She delivers the words slowly, as if it’ll take a moment for my brain to digest them.
This is what I’ve feared since day one.
The dreaded what are we talk.
It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this question. Those discussions ended in awkwardness and me fleeing the scene.
I’m shit at expressing myself.
Shit at clarifying labels.
I clear my throat, scrubbing a hand over my now-sweaty forehead while gathering my thoughts before allowing them to fall from my mouth. Unlike with other women, there’s no walking away from this conversation with Carolina. No matter how weird it gets, I’ll have this talk with her. She deserves that.
“How about you clarify what you want us to be?” I finally say.
That’s a good answer.
Whatever she wants to be, I’m game.
Her furrowed brows inform me I’m stupid, and that was not a good answer.
“Nope,” she quips, shaking her head repeatedly. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” My mind races for the reasons we can do that.
She thrusts her finger into her chest. “I can’t clarify what you want.” Her finger points at me.
Valid point.
I want her, but I also need her help walking me through this so I don’t fuck anything up.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and her chair rattles as I drag it closer to mine. I soften my voice as I say, “I want what you want.”
Her head drops into the crook of my neck as she leans into me. “I can clarify what I want, Rex, but you’re the only person who can speak for your heart, for where your head is.”
“My heart is with you.” The words come out effortlessly, but their meaning is massive.
I grin as she relaxes against me, and my hand strokes her arm.
“And your head?”
My hair rises on the back of my neck. It’s not always the heart you have to fight. Sometimes, it’s your goddamn head that fucks you up.
“My head is …” I release a heavy sigh. “I won’t lie and say I know what I’m doing because I sure as hell don’t. I can’t promise to be perfect, but I can promise to give this everything I have.”
She loses a breath when I turn her in her chair so we’re facing each other, her features unreadable.
“Can you work with that?” I ask, fear storming through me.
Will that be enough for her?
A slow smile builds along her lips, settling my stomach, and her hands cup my face. “I can most definitely work with that.”
“Perfect timing!” Josh shouts when we walk into the apartment to find him and Angelica sitting on the couch while watching TV. “Looks like we’re about to have our first double date! How was the fundraiser?”
“Good,” Carolina answers around a yawn. “Long.”
“You have any leftover cookies?” He raises his leg to nudge a closed pizza box on the table with his foot. “I’ll share pizza.”
“They’re in the car,” Carolina answers, thrusting a thumb toward the door. “You can go grab them if you want.”
I followed Carolina home after we left the church to drop off her car. She made a pit stop into the loft and packed an overnight bag, and I drove us to my place.
Josh stands. “Be right back. You two make yourself comfortable, and everyone pick a movie.” He snaps his fingers and does a circling motion around the three of us. “Make it a good one, so I don’t pass out.”
Angelica scoots over to give us enough room on the couch, and I collapse onto the other end. Carolina falls down next to me, her body halfway on top of mine.
The remote is in Angelica’s hand as she glances over at us with a raised brow. “What kind of movies do you like?”
“I have a feeling I’ll be outvoted, and we’re bound to watch something romantic,” I comment.
Carolina rolls her eyes while patting my thigh. “Honey, don’t act like you didn’t get emotional during A Walk to Remember.”
“Yes, because the girl reminded me of you!” I argue, throwing my right arm up in frustration before counting my reasoning with my fingers. “Preacher’s daughter. Ugly-ass sweaters. The guy is the complete opposite of her. At the end, she dies.” My attention briefly flicks to Angelica. “Spoiler alert.”
A flash of understanding flashes in Carolina’s eyes. “Oh shoot, I never thought about that.”
“That entire week, I stressed, waiting for you to tell me you had a terminal illness and that the movie was a silent warning. Scared the shit out of me.”
Angelica points at me with the remote. “You wait until you watch The Notebook.”
“Already seen it,” I reply.
“The Fault in Our Stars?”
I nod.
“The Vow?”
I nod again.
“P.S. I Love You?”
Another nod.
Angelica looks back at Josh when he walks in. “You need to step your movie game up, babe. Rex has watched nearly every movie that I’ve cried over!”
Josh plops next to her with the container of cookies in his hand and whistles through his teeth. “Dude, quit making me look bad, or I’m not sharing the pizza or cookies.”
“Don’t get mad at me for being smart,” I fire back.
He snatches a cookie and takes a large bite before gagging. “Jesus! What are these?”
“Oatmeal raisin,” Carolina replies around a laugh.
He sticks out his tongue, gagging again, and tosses the cookie back into the container as if it were toxic. “Why would you do that to a man? I thought they were chocolate chip.”
The three of us crack up in laughter.
“Told you,” I say to Carolina. “Oatmeal cookies are blasphemous.”
“And banned from our apartment,” Josh adds.
“What about Save the Last Dance?” Angelica asks, flipping through the options.
“I love that movie.” Carolina peeks up at me. “You haven’t seen that one.”
Angelica hits play.
The movie is actually pretty damn good.
Josh and Angelica are knocked out when the movie credits flash across the screen.
I’m spent as my eyes dart over to Carolina snuggled in my arms. “Another movie or bed?”
She yawns loudly, standing and stretching, and I do the same.
“Bed. Definitely bed.” Her attention drifts to the snoring couple. “Should we wake them?”
“Would you want to be woken up?”
“Probably.” She nods. “That couch isn’t very comfortable.”
Josh’s eyes pop open when I nudge his foot with mine.
“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s bedtime.”
He shakes Angelica awake, and they grumble a quick, “Good night,” before sluggishly poking along down the hall. Carolina and I turn off the lights, moving to my bedroom in slow motion.
As soon as I close the bedroom door, Carolina rummages through my drawers, pulling out her favorite tee of mine. With her back to me and with no hesitation, she whips her dress over her head, causing my heart to nearly jolt out of my chest. Only seconds pass before she unsnaps her bra and slides the tee over her head. The shirt hits the top of her knees, and her nipples are poking through the thin fabric when she turns around and looks at me.
My mouth waters at the sight.
I gulp when the memory of us in the hotel room courses through my mind—of how similar the situation was and how I turned her down. I fight with myself on how to handle this. Sure, we hooked up last night, but we didn’t take that final step.
No doubt that will happen if I touch her tonight.
She smiles back at me while walking to the bathroom, her hand brushing against my stomach when she passes me. I follow her, and Carolina snags the toothbrush I bought for the nights she stays over. My hand is nearly shaking as I brush mine. Her smile grows the second time she slips past me, and my knees nearly buckle when she hops into my bed and yanks the blanket up her body, stopping only inches underneath her neck.
My cock is obnoxiously hard, and there’s no hiding it. The room is dead silent while I change into sweats, and the sheets are cold as I settle on my knees on the edge of the bed. She scoots over, giving me room, and I leave the bedside lamp on when I join her. My sheets still smell like her—a vanilla mixed with cherry scent.
She wastes no time in getting comfortable under my arm, resting on her hip, with her leg slung over mine.
Carolina is halfway straddling me, and I’m not freaking the fuck out.
It feels right.
Natural.
Where she belongs.
“Thank you again for everything,” she says, rubbing her foot up and down my leg.
My arm swings around her waist. “Always.”
I release a hmph when she pushes herself up to straddle me.
“I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.”
My hands settle on the tops of her thighs as I fight to control my breathing and not shift my hips. She’s only wearing panties underneath that shirt, and her pussy covered with only panties would feel amazing against my cock.
“You normally reward me with cookies.”
Yes. I’m suggesting she reward me with cookies rather than straddle me.
Fucking idiot.
She smirks, her pink lips full. “Would you rather have cookies?”
“I don’t know.”
Her smile wavers, confliction on her face as her gaze lowers to me, and my stomach twists at the sudden disappointment.
My hand leaves her thigh when I reach forward, pushing away a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Hey. What’s up?”
She hesitates.
I slide my hand up and down her thigh in reassurance. “Come on, tell me.”
Her face tightens, and she bites into her cheek. “I suck at this whole seduction thing.”
A heaviness falls over me, and my voice is tender. “Trust me, babe, you don’t suck at this.”
She’s not convinced. “You look like you’d rather me pluck your eyeballs out than be on top of you.”
I tighten my grip on her to stop her from moving off me.
Here, I thought I was doing us a favor by holding back, and she thinks it’s because I don’t want her. As scared as I was that us being together would push her away, my constant rejection will do just as much damage, if not more.
I tilt my hips up, and she gasps when my erection presses against her core. “There’s never been a question of if you turn me on. It’s always been if this is a good idea.”
Her eyes widen, understanding flickering on her face. “So, I do turn you on.” The grin she was sporting minutes ago resurfaces.
The air grows thick, and I curl forward to cup the back of her head with my palm. Not a word leaves my mouth until our eyes are locked—hers with traces of every emotion.
Fear. Excitement. Love. Hurt.
We’re so close that I feel her chest heaving underneath my shirt.
“I want this as much as you do, babe,” I say, inches from her lips, not breaking our eye contact. “Hell, more than you do.”
That gorgeous smile of hers grows larger than I’ve ever seen in all the years I’ve known her. “If I say something, do you promise not to throw me off your lap?”
Not going in the direction I thought this was going.
I arch a brow, my hands digging into her hair. “Sure?”
“I want you to take this step with me, Rex.”
“Step?”
She blows out a long breath and lifts one of her hands, smoothing her palm over my face before settling it on my cheek. My mouth goes dry. Affection simmers in her eyes as we focus on nothing but each other, in our own little confused world.
Her words come out slow. Her tone soft. “Rex, you’re capable of a relationship, and as someone who believes in you, who trusts you, I’m willing to put my heart on the line to prove it.”
My hand covers hers resting on my cheek. “Carolina—”
She shoves my hand away to press a finger against my lips. “I’m not finished.” Her finger leaves my lips and brushes my chin before she lowers her hand to my chest, tapping the spot over my heart. “This heart is capable of being a good friend, a good boyfriend, a good lover—”
“Is that what you want?” I cut in, my head spinning. “For me to be your boyfriend?” Just the thought sends a jolt of excitement through me.
Us together.
Boyfriend and girlfriend.
Lovers.
She nods. “More than anything.” The serious look on her face morphs into a smirk. Her next words come out in a song, one sounding like a cheesy-ass car commercial, and she moves her shoulders from side to side in a dancing motion. “You know you want to.”
She further proves her point by wiggling on top of me, rolling this romantic moment into a hungrier one filled with need for her.
“Let’s do it then.”
Her face brightens. “Really?”
My answer comes in the form of kissing her with everything I have.
We’ve lit the fuse, and I pray it doesn’t burn everything we’ve built.