Page 17 of Blind Date with a #Doctor (Love Canyon: Blind Date #3)

Aspen

I should have known Nan was up to something.

The second I walked into the bookstore, I could feel a buzz of anticipation, see the way Nan, Sally, and Marie exchanged smug glances, and the way Nan locked the door behind me before I even made it three steps inside.

I’m standing in the middle of the darkened store, after hours, facing Carter Reed. The man who’s been pulling away from me all week. The man I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. The man I’m in love with.

His jaw is tight, his hands resting on his hips, his expression unreadable.

The ache in my chest that hasn’t gone away since he left me standing in my doorway Saturday night intensifies.

Carter exhales.

“Guess we’re locked in,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair.

I cross my arms. “Guess so.”

He looks at me then—really looks at me. And just like that, all the anger, all the frustration, all the goddamn longing I’ve been holding back this week—snaps.

I shake my head, biting back the lump in my throat. “What the hell, Carter?” My voice wavers, but I don’t care. “You just shut me out? Barely text me back? Act like we weren’t spending every night together?”

His throat bobs. “Aspen—”

“No.” I step forward, fire burning through my veins. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel like I imagined everything between us. I didn’t. I refuse to stand here and let you pretend I did.”

His eyes darken. “I never said you imagined it.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, really? Because that’s exactly what it felt like when you couldn’t even look at me after the party. When you left instead of staying the night. When you started treating me I was just some woman you could walk away from.”

Carter flinches. “That’s not what happened.”

“Then tell me what did.”

A silence, heavy and unbearable, closes around us.

His hands clench into fists at his sides.

And then he finally says, “I saw you with him, Aspen.” His voice is low, rough.

“I saw the way you looked at Ryan. The way you—” He exhales, shakes his head.

“I realized I don’t fit in your world. Not the way he does. ”

I stare at him. Holy shit. That’s what this is about? That’s what he’s been torturing himself over? I blink, take a slow step forward.

“Carter,” I whisper. “Ryan isn’t my world. You are.”

His head snaps up and he’s looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

I swallow. “Ryan is my past. He’s a mistake I made years ago, one I learned from. One I left behind. You? You’re everything I want, Carter. You’re my—” I stop, voice catching, but I force the words out anyway. “You’re my future.”

His breath shudders and he closes the space between us in two long strides. His hands cup my face, his forehead pressing against mine, his breathing ragged.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his voice raw.

I reach for him, my fingers curling into the front of his shirt. “You’re my future.”

A low sound rumbles in his chest and then his mouth crashes into mine.

It starts fast, desperate, we’ve been holding back too long, and now neither of us can stop.

Carter backs me up against the nearest table, lifting me onto the smooth wood, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading them apart so he can step between them.

His mouth slants over mine, deep and claiming, his tongue sliding against mine with the kind of need that makes me lightheaded.

I moan against his lips, my nails digging into his shoulders, and I feel him smirk.

“Missed me, sweetheart?” he rasps against my mouth.

I bite his bottom lip, tugging slightly. “Shut up and take my dress off.”

His chest vibrates with a dark chuckle.

And then his hands are on the zipper, dragging it down, peeling the fabric from my shoulders, kissing every new inch of skin he exposes. My head tips back. This man knows exactly what he’s doing.

His lips trail down my throat, his teeth nipping at the sensitive spot below my ear, and I arch against him, gasping.

My dress slips down completely, pooling around my waist, and Carter pulls back just enough to take me in.

His jaw tightens and his gaze darkens. When his eyes lock onto the deep green lingerie I wore just for him, he exhales a sharp, shaky breath.

“You wore this for me?” His voice is low, dangerous.

I nod, suddenly breathless.

His fingers skim over the lace, teasing, barely there. Then he rips it.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips. “Carter—”

“I’ll buy you another set,” he mutters, his mouth already on my neck again, his hands sliding up my bare thighs.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer. I feel exactly how hard he is through his slacks, I can’t stop the whimper that escapes me.

Carter groans, gripping my hips, grinding against me, letting me feel every inch of what I do to him.

We lose ourselves completely. His shirt? Gone. His pants? Gone. My hands roam his body, memorizing every ridge, every scar, every flex of muscle.

His mouth devours mine, his hands guiding my hips, his body pressing me down onto the table until there’s nothing left between us.

He fills me in one smooth thrust, deep and slow, stretching me until I can’t think of anything but him.

And when he starts moving, when he rolls his hips in that way that makes me see stars, I let go of everything but this.

Him.

Us.

The way we fit so damn perfectly together and the way he whispers my name like it’s a prayer. It’s like I’m the only thing in the world he’s ever needed.

And when we finally fall apart together, when we finally shatter, his forehead presses against mine, his breathing ragged, his arms locked tight around me.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking.

I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

The walls between us are gone. This is real. We’re finally where we’re meant to be.