He swallowed hard. “I’m not sure how.”
“Then I’ll help. But, Goddammit, Henry, you have to give me a fucking chance. I can make you feel loved. I can do it—I swear on my life I can. You are my exception. Never in my entire life have I been so sure about something.” I paused then corrected myself. “Someone.” Dropping my forehead to his, I whispered, “I’ll be the best damn King Kong you’ve ever seen.”
A strangled laugh escaped his throat even as the tear rolled down his cheek.
Using my thumb to wipe it away, I pleaded, “Just let me try.”
His eyes drifted back to mine, and the slightest of smiles pulled at the side of his mouth. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated, relief washing over me.
“I see Levee’s been running her mouth. But that was a good speech.”
I grinned proudly. “It was, wasn’t it?”
His upturned lips brushed across mine. “It would have been better naked.”
“Obviously.” I winked, and his entire face lit.
“OH, HELL NO!” I said as Carter attempted to close the door to my limo after he had escorted Evan and me out the back door of the arena. “You’re riding back here this time, big man. We have shit to discuss.”
His lips pursed, but that was the only objection he gave before unbuttoning his suit coat and folding inside. He slid around the L until he was adjacent to Evan and me. Then he threw an arm up on the back of the seat and turned his full attention my way.
And I pounced. “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”
I can’t lie—I had been shocked and upset when I’d discovered that Robin was what made his little robot heart swell. But it was Carter—I trusted him implicitly. I was predominantly worried about Robin. She was fresh off a relapse. The last thing she needed was to jump into bed with someone. Even if it was a good guy like Carter. Hell, maybe especially because it was a good guy like him.
He pinned me with a disgruntled glare. Then he shook his head and peered out the window as the limo eased away from the mass of paparazzi snapping pictures through the glass.
“It shouldn’t have happened again,” he grumbled.
“Again?” I exclaimed in shock and confusion.
Evan’s hand landed on my thigh, shooting sparks that collected two hundred dollars as they passed my groin before traveling up my spine. Covering his hand, I turned to see if he’d heard the same thing, and clearly, he had, because his face was turning red as he attempted to fight back a great deal of mirth.
“King Kong doesn’t laugh,” I snapped.
Apparently, he did though, because that was when Evan lost it.
“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “I just can’t believe you didn’t realize this. I’ve met them once and I knew something was up.”
If he hadn’t been so fucking sexy while losing himself in humor—even if it was aimed at me—I would have been pissed. As it stood, he was unbelievably sexy, so I was just mildly annoyed as I refocused on Carter.
“Again? How long have you two been…” I would have finished if the words hadn’t made me want to dry-heave.
He uncomfortably scrubbed his palms over his knees and then asked frankly, “Do I need to be job-hunting?”
I jerked my chin in surprise. “What? No!”
“Give me your fucking word,” he pressed.
I curled my lip. “Seriously? You know I’ll just lie.”
Evan cut in. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, no. Not to you, honey.” I drew an X over my heart then flashed him a teasing grin.
He pinched the inside of my thigh, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips twitch.
So. Fucking. Sexy.
Doing my best to focus on the situation at hand and not climb into Evan’s lap, I impatiently tilted my head at Carter.
He grumbled. “She was eighteen the first time.”
“Eighteen!” I shouted, and Evan’s hand spasmed.
“It’s not what you think,” he defended.
“Says every pedophile ever arrested! You’re, like, forty!”
He suddenly sat forward, his bodying appearing to grow as he loomed menacingly.
It would have been intimidating if Carter hadn’t given me way scarier looks over the years. Like the time I’d bought him a lap dance at the fully-nude male strip club. I was only trying to be generous because I was making him work so late on a Saturday night. But the look on that man’s face as he came storming out of the back room with baby oil spread over his pants had me braving the paparazzi and escorting myself out to my car.
But it was the way Evan scooted to the edge of the seat—his posture equally as threatening—that really caught my attention.
I’d never been so turned on as I was when he barked, “Calm the fuck down,” at Carter.
“I’m thirty-eight,” he seethed at me, not sparing Evan a glance. “And she was completely legal, so if you even think about calling me a pedophile again, I will be job-hunting.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, the dramatics are usually my specialty.”