Page 84 of I Think He Knows
“He’s good with kids.” Mona suddenly appears beside me.
I hastily pick my jaw up off the ground, cheeks turning red at being caught practically drooling. “He is.”
“You know, Lana, I was skeptical at first. Almost called an emergency PTA meeting to discuss the likes of Carter attending an event like this.”
“The likes of Carter?!” My voice goes up an entire octave so that I sound like I’ve inhaled a tank of helium.
I must look like I’m about to lose my ever-loving mind at her, because Mona holds up her hands. “Lance talked me out of it. And, I’ll admit, I was wrong.”
What? Who is this person wearing a Mona skin suit right now?!
I turn to gape at the woman I’ve known for years, but wouldn’t call a friend. She continues quietly, “I was concerned about what the tabloids have been saying about him, but Lance reminded me that none of the dads at school are perfect. For goodness sakes, Alistair Wright practically gambled away the family home last year, and Tommy Ellison has been having an affair with Amand—oh, I probably shouldn’t say that. It’s not public knowledge yet.”
I shake my head with a wry smile.There’sthe Mona we know all too well.
“Anyhow.” She clears her throat. “I realized that we know more about Carter’s life because it’s splashed all over the internet, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s a bad guy. Doesn’t even mean that the rumors are true. When I saw him last night and this morning with Allegra—with all the kids—I could clearly see that he’s one of the good ones. And it’s clear that he truly loves you and Allegra.”
I blink at her, vaguely stunned by the appearance of this woman’s softer side (despite the inevitable gossip), and very glad to see it. In the same way that Carter isn’t as he appears to the world, Mona is more than what I see on a daily basis, too. I suppose we all are, and it’s such an important thing to remember when you form opinions of others—to be slow to judge, and kind, especially when you don’t know the whole story.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “I appreciate you saying that, Mona. He very much is one of the good ones.”
She shakes her head as she watches him with the kids. “Do you think he could share his workout routine with Lance? Because those forearms are…”
“Yup,” I say in full agreement as we both look at him (and his sexy firm forearms) in wonder.
After a few moments, he looks in our direction and waves. Says something to the girls before jogging over with a smile. “Hey, Mona. And good morning, beautiful.” He comes to a stop in front of me. “How’s my sleepyhead?”
“I’m good,babe,” I reply with a teasing smile.
He seems to see my sass as a challenge, because he shoots me the cheekiest dimpled grin before moving into my personal space, stopping an inch from my body and holding eye contact steadily. My heartbeat is in my stomach as he moves tantalizingly close. And then, for the briefest, most blissful, painful second, he barely—just barely—skims his lips over the edge of mine. He steps back with a gleam in his eyes.
Meanwhile, I am barely—just barely—avoiding melting into a human puddle.
Because good lord.
“Saved you breakfast,” he says, eyes still dancing. “Pancakes and coffee?”
“Mmpf,” I manage in response, which makes his smile stretch further.
He takes my hand, and the three of us walk to where the other volunteers are sitting, Carter making casual conversation with Mona as I try to keep my legs from buckling beneath me.
There are only two empty chairs and Carter indicates that Mona should take one before he grabs a plate of pancakes and sinks into the other. He wraps an arm around my waist to pull me effortlessly into his lap.
Holy moly, he isreallyplaying this up for our audience right now. And I am here for it. Because oh my gosh, his legs are firm and solid and he smells like clean laundry and fresh-cut grass and goodness. We talk while I eat my pancakes, but I’m wholly focused on where my thighs are touching his. How his hand moves casually over my arms.
And this? It feels so right. Me, on his lap, like I belong here.
When there’s a quiet moment, Carter rests his forehead against my back. “I was thinking you guys could come to my place after we’re done here today. Legs is dying to go swimming.”
His warm breath on my t-shirt sends heat up to my cheeks. “That sounds good.”
“And then, I was thinking that we could do Thai for dinner? I can head to the Asian grocery store in Decatur to pick up ingredients. Want to try my hand at making that stir fried basil dish you loved the last time we got Thai takeout.”
“You’re turning into quite the house husband,” I say with a laugh.
Carter wraps a big arm around my waist and squeezes. “I prefer the term ‘domestic god’.”
“‘Course you do.” I smirk. “Always punching above your weight class.”