A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)

They’d been at the question game for over an hour. Kat watched from her seat on the back porch, wrapped in a large wool blanket, snuggled and warm, while Carter cooked their dinner on the grill and answered every question she threw at him. The smell of shellfish encircled her in the fresh wind, mixing with the scent of the sea and Carter’s cigarette smoke.

 

As well as looking unbelievably sexy in a large, black knitted sweater and dark jeans, Kat couldn’t believe how calm he seemed. He looked like he belonged, settled and free, as though the weight he carried around with him in the city had been swept away by the waves crashing against the shore not one hundred yards away.

 

“You look peaceful here.”

 

Carter finished his beer. “That’s pretty much how I feel. There’s something about the coast. It makes me feel different.”

 

“Better different?”

 

“Yeah.” His eyes glimmered, soft and gentle. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

“Me too.”

 

The food was incredible. Kat told him repeatedly about how good it was, and, in return, Carter made salacious comments about how he’d heard those kinds of words from her before. Kat had convinced herself that playful Carter would be difficult to adjust to; she was so used to brooding, serious, cursing, huffy Carter—and she loved him dearly—that cute and cuddly Carter sounded ridiculous. Kat realized that, in this case, she loved being wrong. His honesty and smile came easier the more they talked, pulling Kat deeper and deeper into the arms of emotions that no longer frightened her. She only worried whether they would frighten him.

 

After they washed up, during which Carter let his hands rub all over Kat’s ass, he led her down the porch onto the beach. It was dark, but small twinkling lights placed on either side of the walkway, and Carter’s flashlight, showed the way.

 

While Kat placed the beer and the bag he’d given her to carry to the side, and took a seat on the cool sand, Carter went about starting a fire in the pit filled with driftwood and logs with a can of lighter fluid, a match, and much enthusiasm. Kat doubled over laughing when she saw his ecstatic expression once he got the damn thing ablaze.

 

“Me. Man. Build fire for woman,” he boomed, pounding his chest and gesturing proudly to the pit.

 

Kat called him an utter loser, which encouraged Carter to attack her ribs mercilessly with his long, nimble fingers. He growled into her neck while he tickled her, and laughed when she tried to tickle him back. It was loud—a true belly laugh that came from deep inside of him.

 

It was wonderful.

 

Carter shuffled so his back was against a conveniently placed rock and pulled Kat between his legs, keeping the blanket around them both. He pulled two beers and a pack of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate from a bag. She stared wide-eyed at the bag in his hand.

 

“You brought marshmallows?” she exclaimed.

 

Carter deadpanned: “Um, we have an open flame going on here, Peaches. Of course I brought marshmallows. We have to eat s’mores on the beach.” He scoffed. “It’s the law.”

 

They ate at least three each before Kat called mercy and collapsed against Carter. “I’m so full. You always make me eat too much. I’m gonna get really fat.”

 

Carter clicked his tongue next to her ear. “What bullshit.” His hands moved under her layers of clothes and gripped her sides. “You’re fucking perfect. I love the way you feel. Besides, I’ll help you work it off later.”

 

“I’m sure,” Kat shot back and giggled when she heard him groan. “First, tell me more about the house and your time with your grandma.” He handed her another beer. She was on her fourth now, and she needed to slow down. If Carter’s aim was to get her drunk and have his way with her, then he wasn’t far from achieving it. “Tell me about your friends, girlfriends … tell me everything.”

 

Carter laughed. They continued to watch the flames lick and dance in the moonlight. The wind had died down now and the sky had cleared, dropping the temperature so that their breath was visible. Kat couldn’t feel the cold, though, wrapped in her blissful bubble.

 

“Okay.” Carter rubbed his hands across her stomach. “Well, my main group of friends work with me at the shop.”

 

“Max’s shop? Tell me about Max. How long have you known each other?”

 

Carter smiled. “Nearly twenty years.”

 

“Is he a good friend to you?”

 

“Yeah, he is. He laughed his ass off when I told him I was bringing you here.” He looked troubled, almost sad.

 

With a friendship of two decades, it was obvious there was more to their story, but Kat decided not to push. Like peeling the layers of an onion, he revealed himself to her a little bit at a time. He couldn’t be rushed. He would tell her when he was ready. She had to trust that.

 

“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he continued. “I was never with girls long enough to warrant a label like that. This may be hard to believe, but I was a complete asshole with girls when I was a kid.” His self-ridicule was adorable.

 

“No way.”

 

“Way.” The playfulness ebbed from his face as he held her close. His words were low and serious in her ear. “I want you to know something.” He took a deep breath. “I won’t ever be that way with you. I promise. You deserve more than that. I’m far from perfect, but I swear I’ll do my best.”

 

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