OLIVIA
EVER LET someone blindfold you and fuck you into oblivion?
No? Shame. You should try it. Trust me.
I feel wrecked beyond belief. That’s the only way to describe how I’m feeling when I stretch with a moan that’s indicative of the dull ache in my muscles, coupled with the most glorious sleep I’ve ever had. This bed is heaven and so is Carter.
Except he’s not here and the bed is empty. So, slightly less heavenly.
Music floats up the stairs along with the sound of dishes clanging and the smell of something both sweet and savory, letting me know where Carter is.
And he’s singing.
I flop over with a happy sigh, not even taking up a quarter of the giant bed when I starfish in the center of it.
I must be crazy, because I might somehow be in love already. Except I don’t think I simply fell. I might’ve accidentally tripped over my own two feet and face-planted in it.
Heavy footsteps thud up the staircase, and I smile at Carter’s voice as it comes closer, singing a familiar tune.
“My girl! Do-do-do-do-do!”
The giggle that bubbles in my chest is both embarrassing and hopeless.
When Carter pops his head in the door with a grin so saucy and charming, I bury my face in my hands and curl over my legs as my giggles pass the insane mark.
“Quit your laughing,” he orders, strolling across the room. Naked. Stark naked. Holding a tray of food.
Also, he’s naked.
“You’re naked.” I’m gaping.
He points to the ridiculous chef’s hat on his head that I nearly missed due to his flawless nakedness. “Nuh-uh. Got a hat on.”
“Uh-huh…” I’m not staring at the hat. “I see you’re staring at Mr. Incredible.” “You’re so vain it’s incredible.”
The smile he hits me with is extra smirky as he drops the tray over my lap, hands on either side of my face, leaning in for a slow, soft kiss. “Like I said: Mr. Incredible.”
“What’s this?” My heart warms as I blink up at him. “You made me breakfast?”
He runs a palm over his proud chest, nodding. “Uh-huh.” He swipes a piece of bacon off one plate that appears to hold at least an entire pound of it, placing the tip in my mouth before he devours the rest of it. “Bacon because you love it. Fruit and yogurt because they’re sweet like you. Blueberry bagel with cinnamon spread because Cara said it’s your favorite. And tea because coffee makes your stomach hurt.”
“I l-l-l…” Oh my. Oh my shit. Balls. Oh my shit balls. I almost said it.
Out loud. What in the fuck is wrong with me?
Carter lifts an amused brow, looking smugger than he ever has. “You l- l-l?”
“I—” flail a hand around, “—don’t know what I was trying to say.” That’s the best I can come up with? “I’m just overwhelmed by the thoughtful breakfast. And I woke up alone, and now you’re here, and you’re singing, and you’re…” I gesture at his body. “Naked.”
Carter plants his hands on his hips, swiveling. He sure likes to swing that thing around. “Is my nakedness distracting you?”
“I couldn’t spell the word if you asked me to while looking like that.”
“Mmm.” He swipes a smear of cinnamon spread off the plate and brushes it over my lips, eyes glazing over as my tongue flicks out to lick it off. “I like when I render you speechless.”
“Don’t get used to it. I can eat in bed?” The sheets are so white and perfect. There’s a good chance I’m going to change that.
“Yup. And when you’re done, it’ll be my turn to eat in bed.” The look on his face is nothing but starved, and my insides twist with delirious anticipation, because I can’t wait to be his meal.
Carter collapses next to me, munching bacon while he watches me eat, head propped up in his hand, elbow on the mattress, looking a lot like a model posing for a shoot. The cinnamon spread is warm and melty on my bagel, and when I bite into it, it dribbles down my chin and drops off the edge of my jaw, leaving a drippy line over the swell of my left breast.
His eyes hood, and when I go to wipe it off me, he snatches my wrist. “Don’t you dare,” he whisper-growls. “Mine.”
He rolls to his feet, plucks the tray off my lap, sets it on the floor, dive- bombs the bed, and devours every inch of me four times over. When we finally make it back to breakfast, the food is cold, my bagel is hard, and there’s not a single part of me that cares. In fact, by the time he drops me off at the arena for my girls’ hockey game, I’ve had three orgasms and earned a McDonald’s breakfast. Oh, and a pat-pat on my ass when I twist to get out of the car.
“Was that Carter Beckett?” Alannah whispers when I meet her at the front door, eyes wide with wonder as she fans at her cheeks, staring at Carter’s SUV pulling out of the parking space. He smiles and waves and Alannah jumps up and down, both arms flailing as she waves back. “It’s him, it’s him, it’s him!” she shrieks at her dad, giving him a violent shake.
Jeremy barely resists an eye roll. “It’s him, it’s him. Woo-hoo.”
“Please do try to contain your enthusiasm, Jeremy.” Twisting back to Alannah, I pull a gift from my bag and grin. “This is for you, from Carter.”
She unravels the small jersey, jaw hanging while she examines it. “To Alannah. Hustle hard, hip check harder. Carter Beckett.” She stares up at me, unblinking. “Omigod, omigod, oh my God!”
Jeremy’s still unimpressed, yet oddly enough, holds one expectant hand out to me.
I arch a brow. “Can I help you?” “Where’s mine?”
“Your what?”
“My…my jersey.” He gapes. “You…didn’t you…you didn’t—”
“Relax,” I say with a smug grin, pulling his jersey out. I’m giddy with anticipation. I might have dictated the message Carter wrote on Jeremy’s jersey.
He holds it up in front of his face as he reads, which sucks, because now I can’t see his expression. “To Jeremy. Don’t be an asshole to your sister. Carter Beckett.” He drops the shirt across his hips, giving me a clear view
of his face, which is…ecstatic. “Oh my God. He signed my jersey. Carter Beckett signed my jersey!”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
I’m at least five pounds heavier than when I walked in here. Which was approximately seven minutes ago. Seem impossible? Nothing’s impossible with Cara.
“Do we need all these snacks?” The box of Milk Duds shoved in my coat pocket wiggles itself free, and I slam my elbow against my hip to trap it there, then proceed to waddle down our row. I’ve got a can of beer in my other pocket, a package of Twizzlers shoved in the back pocket of my jeans, another beer in my right hand, and my left arm is wrapped around a bag of popcorn. “It seems a little excessive.”
“What a ridiculous question.” Cara scoffs. “Yes, Olivia, we need all
these snacks. Don’t ruin my life.”
I honestly don’t have a clue where Cara packs this all. She’s got a sweet tooth a mile wide but is one of those naturally lean women you spend your life cursing. I have to take myself to work early every morning so I can spend forty-five minutes working off whatever chocolate-infused disaster I made from Pinterest over the weekend.
“Did Carter tell Adam what happened last night?”
I nod. “Poor guy. He’s so confused, and he wants to see the best in her, but he’s just not sure anymore.”
Carter had a chance to talk with Adam about Courtney while I was at my game earlier today. He said Adam was devastated, not for himself, but for us.
“Courtney said she was drunk and didn’t remember, and when he kept pushing her, she told him to lighten up and learn how to take a joke.”
Cara makes a low, scary sound in the back of her throat, the kind that tells me she’s not above violence. “Liv, you know I don’t say things like this lightly, but that woman deserves to have an entire hive of angry bees released on her.”
I snicker, and Garrett comes to a stop in front of the bench, sending up a spray of snow as his eyes glide over our snacks. He squirts water into his
mouth and lifts his brows. “Hungry tonight, Ollie?”
I send a quick scowl Cara’s way. “All I wanted was popcorn.” “Well, whatever you don’t eat, I’m your man.”
Carter crashes into him from behind. “I’m her man.” Garrett cross-checks Carter in the chest. “I want her food!” Carter shoves him back. “Nobody gets her food but me!”
“What am I looking at here?” I ask out loud, watching what appears to be a game of slapsies between two grown men who are supposed to be warming up for their professional hockey game.
“You’re looking at what I have to deal with on a regular basis.” Adam stops in front of the bench for a drink of water, giving me a sheepish smile. “Children.”
“The food is mine!” Carter shouts out as he wraps his arms around Garrett’s head.
Garrett wriggles free of his grasp. “I won’t let you down, Ollie!”
It’s at this moment I realize Emmett’s leaning over the bench, winking, and Cara’s aggressively poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
“Oh my God. You two are—” My words die a gasp that feels like my heart is leaping from my throat when Carter’s body slams into the plexiglass right in front of me. “Carter, for fuck’s sake. You scared me.”
He whips his gloves off, cups his hands around his mouth, and breathes on the glass. The tip of his finger etches a heart into the fog, and when he writes C+O my weak heart takes flight, as embarrassing as this is. The wink he hits me with before he skates away holds all the promise of the night we plan to spend alone together after this late afternoon game.
Cara tosses a mixed handful of Skittles and M&M’s into her mouth. “My God, that man is head over heels in love with you.”
My nose wrinkles, and I send a pointed look at the hand she’s dumping both treats into. “That is disgusting and evil. You do not mix the two.” I twist back to the ice with a soft sigh, admiring the slowly fading heart on the glass. “And he’s not in love with me.” But, like, maybe one day. I hope. That’d be nice. Or whatever.
Cara snorts. “Liv. Look at that man. I’ve never seen such a lovesick loser.”
My gaze sweeps the ice, looking for the man in question, only to find his eyes already locked on me as he plays with a puck, chatting with a few
other players. His grin is electric as he lifts one gloved hand and waves. “Hi, pumpkin!” he hollers before firing off a shot on Adam.
My cheeks flame. “Did he just call me pumpkin in front of fifteen thousand people?”
“No. It’s still warm-ups. People are still buying snacks and beer.” Cara shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “You’re probably looking at more like twelve thousand.”
But Carter’s dead set on embarrassing me in front of the entire fifteen, because when he scores six minutes into the first period, he skates by the bench and yells, “That was for you, pumpkin!” When he scores in the third period and dedicates it to his princess, he points up at my red face lighting the jumbotron, places his gloved hands over his heart, and then pretends to faint.
He’s way too ostentatious, and yet when he emerges from the change room and strolls right by the reporters when he spots me, butterflies still erupt in my stomach.
By the time we get home, the sinking sun paints the sky in stunning hues of pink and orange, splashes of lavender, the dark pines and towering mountains a striking contrast to the beautiful backdrop.
Carter leads me to the kitchen island and sets a small tray of cheese, cured meats, cashews, and grapes in front of me.
“Dinner will be late tonight, so munch on this for now.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
His footsteps thud on the stairs, my legs swinging happily from my stool as I hum around my snack. When he returns ten minutes later, he’s wearing the most adorable smile, maybe a little shy, and he’s swapped his suit for track pants and a T-shirt.
His fingers thread through mine, tugging with his timid request. “Come with me.”
He’s vibrating with excitement, and I can tell it’s taking everything in him to be gentle, to accommodate my short legs and not yank me along behind him as he leads me into his bedroom.
The bathroom is dimly lit by the warm flame of the candles decorating the edge of the bath, the glow of the stars pouring through the skylight. John Mayer plays softly through the speakers, the book I’m currently reading sitting on the stool next to the large soaker tub. The water is
sparkling, a beautiful hue of magenta, littered with rose petals, and Carter’s quite literally bouncing on his toes.
“There’s a bath bomb in there. That’s why the water’s pink. Jennie picked it.” He scratches his head. “Um, it’s got, um…”
I inhale deeply as the scent hits my nose. “Lavender?”
Carter’s face lights up. “Yeah! Lavender. It’s for relaxing and all that shit.”
I stifle a giggle. This is utterly adorable.
“But the rose petals were all me. And the candles.” He couldn’t look prouder.
“For me?”
“For you.” He touches his lips to mine before wiggling my jeans over my hips, bringing my panties and socks with them. He pulls my shirt over my head, removes my bra much more gently than he ever has, and helps me step into the steamy water. “I want you to relax while I get us some dinner and get set up downstairs, okay? You have to stay in here for forty-five minutes.”
“Forty-five minutes? That’s awfully specific. What if I miss you?” “Then you can touch yourself thinking about me.” He snickers, then his
gaze hardens. “If you do, I need it on video. Add it to the holy bible of jerk- off material hiding in my phone.”
“Carter—”
“Get in the water, Liv.”
With a smile and a sigh, I sink into heaven, hands floating over the water, skimming the petals. I don’t last long after he leaves, forgoing the book and humming along to the music as my eyes drift closed. Before I know it, Carter’s warm hands are on my face, coaxing me awake.
“Sleepy Ollie girl,” he whispers. “I knew I had to come get you when I hit the forty-sixth minute.”
My arms fly overhead with my yawn as Carter holds out a fluffy towel. He wraps me up and ushers me into the bathroom, pointing to one of his T- shirts and a clean pair of underwear from my bag, all while draining the tub, scooping up the petals, and blowing out the candles. He does so much for me, his dedication and compassion unmatched. When he returns, I wind my arms around him, snuggling close.
“Thank you, Carter. I’m so happy with you, and I can’t wait to grow together.”
“We’re gonna have the biggest glow-up.” His brows furrow. “Emotional glow-up. ’Cause we’re both already hot as fuck.” He smooshes his lips to my forehead, pulling back with a loud muah. “Come on. I can’t wait to show you what I did.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to come on, instead lifting me into his arms and carting me down the stairs. He stops at the edge of the living room, and if it hasn’t already, my heart implodes. I can feel his beating away, strumming steadily next to where my ear rests on his chest, and I press my palm there, as if I might be able to touch it, feel the way it races.
I wiggle in his hold, sliding down his body, fingers at my mouth as I move into the room.
The TV is on, open to Disney+ and showcasing all the classics. The couch is…destroyed. The cushions are gone, though I have an idea where they might be. I round the white sheets that decorate the room, set up like a tent, and I find the cushions inside, buried under bundles of blankets and more pillows than I’ve ever seen. Twinkly lights line the inside of the tent, and the coffee table is littered with boxes of Chinese food.
My eyes settle on the amazing man I’m beyond blessed to call mine. He reaches for me before seeming to second guess himself, palming the back of his neck.
“I thought we could have a movie night. Do you…do you like it?” Do I like it?
I leap across the room, jump into his arms, and crush my lips down on
his.
Carter laughs. “I’ll take that as a hell yes. Fuck, I’m killin’ it at this
boyfriend stuff.” Together, we cuddle up in the makeshift tent, settling on The Lion King first, and Carter sings every single word while we eat. When it’s over, he disappears into the kitchen and returns with brownies, and I swear I’m going to burst but eat two anyway.
“Frozen?” He licks the frosting off his thumb as he sifts through the movies. “Or Moana? I can sing them both, in case you’re wondering.”
Tugging the blankets up, I snuggle into his side. “Frozen. I wanna hear you sing ‘Let it Go.’”
Carter looks down at me as he presses Play. “You gonna stay awake long enough to hear it?”
“Pfft. I’m wide awake. Had a catnap in the tub.”
The corner of his mouth lifts before he kisses me. “Mhmm. Well, just in case…” He scoops me into his arms, settling me against his chest, resting his chin on my head as he threads his fingers through my hair.
We’re only ten minutes in when he runs his palm over my back and whispers my name. When I meet his gaze, it’s tender and warm.
“My mom always told me that these things don’t come easily, that you have to work for the love and the life you want. The hard parts are challenging, but we get through them, and everything else with you feels natural, and I…I want to work with you. I want to build a life we love.”
With those words replaying in my mind, I don’t make it long enough to hear him sing his song, and I’m not sure what time it is when I feel him lay me down on the cushions, his body molding around mine. The heat of his palm warms my belly when it slips beneath my shirt, and soft lips touch my jaw, drawing up to my ear.
“You’re my favorite everything, Ollie.”
