Page 64 of I Think He Knows
“What?” she asks as I drink her in, laughing awkwardly as her petite hands smooth over the front of her silky, slinky dress, which makes that pink dress from all those years ago pale in comparison. “Is it okay?”
I realize I’m staring, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away. Or pull my thoughts out of the gutter. Her dress clings to her body like a glove, accentuating her soft curves that are allwoman. Her hair is pulled back to show off her delicate collarbones and long, graceful neck. But best of all, her beautiful face is… happy. Those plump lips of hers are parted and smiling, and her eyes, when they sweep over me, light up in a way that sparks something within me.
“It’s way more than okay,” I finally reply, my voice low and thick. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Her cheeks are pink, and she extends a hand to touch my clean-shaven jaw gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen movie-star-Carter in the flesh before. I’m used to my Carter being scruffy and flannel-clad.”
MyCarter. That tiny two-letter word almost undoes me.
If only she knew that any and all versions of me share one thing in common: they’reallhers.
And this version ofherCarter has turned into a prepubescent schoolboy who has zero game and can’t get a single word out. Case in point: in reply to her intimate, face-touching gesture, I thrust the oversized bouquet of wildflowers into her arms. “These are for you.”
Her eyes go soft and wide as she looks at the flowers that I’ve practically just thrown at her, smooth operator that I am. “Thank you, CJ. I love them so much,” she tells me with a huge smile. “I’m going to put them in water and we can go.”
As she retreats into the house, Anthony appears at the door, smirking in satisfaction. “Isn’t she a vision?”
“She is.”
Anthony looks past my head and into the driveway, and his expression immediately sours. “For the love of all that is holy, Carter, you drove that old thing tonight? How do you expect to sweep a woman off her feet in that rustbucket? I’m all for vintage, but only the good kind.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Ant, I—”
“Am a lost cause, I know,” he finishes for me with a roll of his eyes.
“I was going to say that I like it. And I don’t think Lana cares what I drive.”
“But if she’s not after your money, what could shepossiblysee in you?” he teases.
“I think she’s into my massive ego that’s constantly inflated by my compliment-ladling assistant.”
Anthony snorts. “Happy to be of service.”
Lana has a theory (which I’ve never debunked) that I have an automotive kink, but the truth is that I keep my Jeep as my primary vehicle in Atlanta because it was the first place she ever told me she loved me—platonically, of course. Those words coming out of her mouth as I drove her and baby Legs home from a postpartum checkup did something to my insides. Wallpapered them in sunshine and wholesome goodness. Every time I climb into my battered old SUV, even now, the distant echo of her words makes me smile.
But I don’t tell Anthony this because the memory is so special to me. I selfishly want to keep it all to myself. Even if that makes him believe that I’m a cheapskate who won’t shell out for a new ride despite my healthy bank balance.
“Ready to go?” Lana reappears, holding a gold-beaded clutch.
I offer her my arm and she takes it, her small hand slipping through my elbow and circling around my bicep. I like how her hands feel on me. And this close, I can breathe her in. She smells different tonight—the cherry blossom and vanilla shampoo she’s been using for years mingles with an unfamiliar perfume that makes my head spin.
I can’t remember the last time I so badly wanted to taste someone’s skin.
Don’t think there was a last time.
Anthony catches the pained looked on my face and grins wickedly. “You two have a good time tonight, you hear me?”
Lana smiles wide at him. “We’ll see you there, right?”
“Of course.” Anthony kisses her cheek. “But I had to say it now because I’m sure you’ll both be so busy mingling at the party, you’ll hardly have a second to spare for me.” My assistant then looks at me and holds up his hand. Waggles his fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something? I brought a few options.”
I shake my head. “Nah, man. I have it covered.”
My smile stretches at the look of abject shock on Ant’s usually smug face. For once, I’ve surprisedhim.
“What was that about?” Lan asks as I steer her down the driveway and towards my Jeep. The evening air is thick and muggy, perfumed with damp heat and the smell of impending rain.
“I’ll show you when we get there.”