Page 17

16

May

M y head is pounding so badly that I can hear and feel each beat of my pulse. And why in the hell is my face so warm?

I try to crack open an eye but immediately decide against it when I see how bright it is. Groaning, I fling my hand over my eyes, only for my fingers to connect with something hard. Did I think it was a good idea to sleep on a brick? Testing out the pillow, I move my head side to side to see if it becomes any comfier.

“Mmm,” I hear from just above me.

What the hell?

Peeking my eye open again, I make out a circular, gold pendant resting against a firm, tanned chest.

Holy shit. Why was I just asleep on Carson’s bare chest? And why do the sounds Carson makes first thing in the morning have me squeezing my thighs together?

Heat pools low in my stomach as I take in this innocent accident, noticing certain things about Carson. Like the way his body is hard in all of the right places. His lean muscles and sharp jawline look as if they were carved by Michaelangelo. God sure took his time creating this man. I squint to get a better look at the medallion he never seems to take off his chest. It looks to be Saint Christopher. That explains . . . a lot about Carson. It feels like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, always trying to protect those he loves.

I shift to try to take him in more at the same time as his palm connects with the bare skin of my lower back.

That feels amazing . It feels so good that I give up trying to take him in because I’d rather melt back into him and pretend I’m still asleep—to extend this time together—before the reality of what I’m letting happen comes crashing to my conscious brain.

I’m not that lucky, though. Just as I nestle my head into the crook of his neck between his collarbone and jaw, Carson shifts again, moving his hand around my side. When his large hand grips a hold of my waist, I have to bite back the moan that nearly escapes my lips.

“Funny meeting you here, Austin,” he murmurs, sleep making his voice gravelly. I perch myself up on my elbow to take a peek at him, but I’m met with his aqua eyes already taking me in. A lazy smile spreads across his face, and in the morning light flooding through the glass panel ceiling, he looks god-like.

Knowing I probably have mascara smudged beneath my eyes, I perch myself up on his chest and cover my eyes with my hands. “I’m a mess.”

Carson gently tugs my hands down. “Don’t talk about my favorite author like that.”

My stomach pulls taut like the strings of a bow hearing that word leave his lips.

Biting my lip in apprehension, I ask, “I let that slip, huh?”

“You sure did.” He slowly dances his fingers across the exposed skin of my lower back. “So tell me, what is this future bestseller of yours about?”

“That is highly unlikely.” Pausing, I avert my gaze. “I’m writing a romance novel about two clandestine soulmates forbidden to fall in love. Sort of a modern spin on Romeo and Juliet .”

“Why is it forbidden?”

“I’m still mapping out the plot, but I think the main male character is going to be a professional football player who falls for his assistant.”

“And by football player, you mean hockey player. That doesn’t seem very forbidden.”

“You’re right. Until you find out the assistant is his rival’s daughter. And it’s most definitely going to be a football player. It’s the only sport I know.”

“Okay, I’m hooked already. We’ll circle back to the football detail at a later date. When can I read it?” I can’t help the questioning look I send his way, but he looks so sincerely intrigued.

“I haven’t written more than the first two chapters. So, not for a very long time. Or quite possibly ever.”

“Wait, why can’t I read it?”

“It’s a romance novel. You don’t think that’d be weird to read your friend’s romance book?”

“Not really. I mean, I read the books you leave around the house all the time.”

“What?” I squeal. “No, you don’t.”

“Oh, I do. Once we started watching Bridgerton and I realized you read more than just the classics, my curiosity was piqued.” He sends a shameless wink my way.

I cover my face again, this time in utter humiliation.

“Ohmygodthat’ssoembarrassing,” I mumble through my palms.

His chest shakes with laughter beneath me, and I peek a glimpse at him through my fingers. I can’t help but drown in the current that is Carson Wilder. I’m amazed at how easily he breaks down my walls and pulls me in. His golden hair shines in the light of dawn, and even though it’s only just started to get warmer, his skin already has a bronzed glow. He looks ethereal.

Pulling my hands from my face again, he says, “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re bashful first thing in the morning.”

My breath hitches as his words sink in. I lick my lips, and his gaze locks on the movement.

Carson’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, thankfully breaking the tension that was building. I shift to grab his cell for him. “You’re popular this morning, Golden Boy.”

He takes his phone when I hold it out for him. “Thanks. It’s probably the guys looking for me. I think we’re all eating breakfast together before our tee time this morning.”

I start to roll out of bed when he grips me by the waist, halting me in place. “Whoa there, where are you running off to, Austin?”

“I should get back up to the house and change so I don’t look like I’m doing the walk of shame.”

His lip quirks up at the corner. “There’s no shame in two friends spending an innocent night together, right?”

“You’d be right if I didn’t admit that this is starting to feel less . . . innocent,” I murmur. “I really should go.”

Moving out of his grasp, I slip from beneath the covers and start looking for my boots.

I’m just pulling on my second rhinestone boot when Carson stands from his side of the bed. He stretches his arms above his head, and my gaze slides down the sinew of his arms, across the expanse of his broad chest, to each rivet of his defined abs, until I reach the V that leads beneath the very low waist of his faded blue jeans.

Yeah, the way he’s turning me on right now is far from innocent.

He relaxes his arms and lightly scratches his bare chest. “I hate to watch you leave, Austin.”

Yeah, but I bet you’d love to watch me come.

Fudge. I need to get out of here.

“Then don’t.” I circle my hand in the air, motioning for him to turn around.

“Right.” He claps his hands together in front of him in the way I’ve come to know he does when he’s nervous or unsure. Pointing behind him, he says, “I’m going to take a quick shower down here before breakfast.”

“Okay. I’ll see you up there,” I tell him as he closes the door to the small en suite.

Grabbing a pen and notepad out of my purse, I leave Carson with a little token to remind him of me. Today’s Post-it affirmation reads:

Repeat after me, Cowboy Carse: My inner strength and confidence are attractive to others.

I’m still smiling to myself, thinking about how much shit he’s going to give me for that one as I head up the path back to the cabin.

This place is so peaceful and serene. I can see why Carson’s parents wanted to make sure they took time every summer to come up here as a family and make memories.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as a slender arm wraps around mine. “Good morning, bestie. Where did you run off to last night?” Kenna asks.

My stained cheeks don’t stand a chance against her knowing eyes.

“The boathouse is a favorite spot of one of the twins, but I can’t think of the last time I was up there since my mom and dad redecorated it for Carson.” She pauses, putting her hands on her hips. “And considering the guys have been looking for him for the past ten minutes, I’m going to guess the two of you had a little boathouse slumber party.”

Shit.

My stomach churns with guilt. “I’m so incredibly sorry, Kenna. We honestly didn’t mean to fall asleep up there. He wanted to show me the space, and then I told him about my book, and then we were drunk and must have passed out.”

Kenna claps her hands together and lets out a howl of laughter. “Oh my gosh! You should see your face right now. Dakota, you’re fine! I was only giving you a hard time.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Oh, you’re mean.”

“Wait. Did you just say you told Carse about your book?”

Groaning, I mutter, “I did. Why do I have the loosest lips when I’m drinking?”

“Girl, I don’t know. But I’m here for it. I was having the hardest time keeping it a secret from him. The second I told Griff about it, he made a bet with me, saying I’d crack and spill the beans to Carse within a week. Thankfully, your tipsy ass helped me win the bet!”

“I’m glad I could be of service,” I deadpan.

Kenna shakes her head before throwing her arm around my shoulder. “If it weren’t already obvious, you’re stuck with me, Kota. It’s a good thing we’re getting facials today. Maybe they can wipe that scowl off your face.”

I shoulder her lightly and make my way into her parents’ cabin while she takes the path between the houses to her and Griff’s new place.

McKenna doesn’t realize how serendipitous it is that she came into my life. I found her post about needing a nanny in the college bulletin the same week my school email was about to expire—only a week after Aaron first showed me his true colors.

The Wilder twins have changed my life for the better. I know I wouldn’t be here today without them, and that’s the only sobering thought I need to realize I shouldn’t risk my friendship with them just because a swarm of butterflies erupts in my stomach every time Carson smiles at me.

The theme for today is golf pros and tennis hoes. I’m honestly not sure where Cason and Jackson came up with these ideas, but I’m somewhat in love with them.

Last night, Carson stole the breath from my lungs when I saw him in his cowboy getup. Who knew a cowboy wearing a chain could be so hot?

Today’s theme has Carson looking even more in his element. He’s wearing a teal shirt that makes his eyes look like the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, a backwards white golf hat, and white golf shorts with that damn five-inch inseam that show off his powerful thighs. Since when did I become turned on by a man’s legs? I officially feel like a creep for being attracted to the definition of his tanned calves.

I was surprised to find out the ladies weren’t joining the guys for their round of golf, considering I’m the only non-collegiate or pro athlete in the group. Instead, we’re going for a spa day and I couldn’t be more excited to have a little girl time with McKenna, Brooke, and Alexa.

Carson spots me filling my plate from the smorgasbord worth of food Griffin cooked everyone this morning. He saunters over to me and says, “Who wakes up first and cooks breakfast for the entire group at their own bachelor party? That is a major red flag. I should warn Mack before it’s too late.”

I love an at-ease Carson.

“Someone woke up and chose violence this morning, Carse,” Kenna says from behind us. Carson turns around, resting his hips against the kitchen island. “I know you’re not talking about my soon-to-be husband having red flags. If Griff heard you, I think he’d revoke your best man privileges.”

“Is that so? For some reason I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” Carson quips as he tosses a strawberry in the air and catches it in his mouth. I watch, no, ogle the way his jaw works as he chews. When he swallows, I’m entranced by the lift of his Adam’s apple, which I have the strangest urge to bite right now.

What is happening to me?

He leans in when he catches me staring and whispers, “If you think watching me eat a strawberry is drool-worthy, you should see me eat a peach.” His lips brush my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin.

“You don’t play fair,” I whisper.

He pulls back, sporting a rakish grin. “When we get home, will you teach me how to make your mama’s peach cobbler?”

Home. Why does warmth flood my chest from that one word leaving his lips?

I set my plate on the island and face him, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter. “I’m not sure you’ve earned the privilege, Golden Boy. You’re acting like a brat.”

He tries to bite back his chuckle. “I like when you call me names, it turns me on.”

“Down, boy.”

“You’re probably right. Can’t afford to get excited in these shorts.” The waggle of his brows has me snorting.

“Oh my goodness. Chivalry is indeed dead.”

“Oh, I can be quite chivalrous, my lady. You just haven’t allowed me the opportunity to show you.”

“Is that so?” I muse. “And when would such an opportunity arise?”

“Let me take you out, Austin.”

My eyes widen at his request. I’m just about to ask him what he means by that when Jackson steps between us to grab a strip of bacon.

“Are you excited for the spa day today, Super Nanny?” Jackson asks me before eating the entire piece in one bite.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop the smile from spreading across my face at the look on Carson’s face. His brow is furrowed and I fear he may crack a molar from how hard he’s clenching his jaw. Note to self: he doesn’t like when others call me by his nickname.

It’s strange. I should find his possessiveness worrisome. Instead, I find it endearing. Clearly, I’m even more broken than I realized.

“Alright, alright, Jaxy. Super Nanny has a name. Dakota deserves your respect just like all of the other females here,” Carson says.

Jackson throws his head back and smacks Carson on the back. “You’re acting like a Neanderthal, Carsey-baby.” He shakes his head, laughing to himself as he walks over to his brother.

“On that note, I’m going to eat in my room so I can finish getting ready.” I reach to pick up the plate I set aside when his long, deft fingers eclipse mine. My skin prickles beneath his touch, and my heart rate skyrockets when he brings me in for a hug. There’s nothing I want more than to stay in his warm embrace.

“I wish I could join y’all at the spa today,” Carson breathes into my skin before pressing a soft kiss on my forehead.

God, this feels too good.

“Y’all, eh?” I question as I reluctantly step out of his embrace.

“Yeah, y’all. What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me, Austin,” he says with a devilish smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one, eh ?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re right. I am incredibly cute.”

Rolling my eyes, I feign annoyance. “Case in point.”

“You love it.”

“Hardly.”

“Dakota Meyer . . . she’s a real smitten kitten for the golden retriever of the group.”

“Dream on, Golden Boy.”

“I didn’t even have to dream last night with you in my arms. Best night of sleep I’ve ever had.”

It was for me too. But I’m not about to fan the sparks of hope in his eyes. Grabbing my plate, I head up the steps to add some much-needed space between the two of us.

No matter how attractive he is. No matter how easy it is to flirt and banter with him. No matter how nice it is to feel again. We wouldn’t work. I’m far too broken, and I refuse to tarnish his shine.