The screen exploded into a rainbow of flowers that burst and blossomed in a continuous, beautiful loop of color and light. If it killed my computer, at least it would die looking good, but it didn’t die.
When he didn’t text to confirm by 7:15, I figured he wasn’t coming. I told him I wasn’t going on a date with him, so he must have talked himself out of it. That would be wise. Very wise.
But if he did show up?
If he came after a day of not contacting me?
What would I do?
He wasn’t coming, but if he did, I was going to be ready.
Aware that I made no sense at all, I showered because I was dirty, shaved because it was time, and dressed in something nice because sweatpants weren’t good date wear. Garter and a soft pink dress? That was good for a date.
Not that there was going to be a date, of course.
But if he spent the entire day trusting that I’d get ready for him, without checking or bothering me, and if he still showed up not knowing if I was going to turn him away, that in itself was a commitment. That was a guy who respected me and wanted me at the same time. He was willing to come here and be hurt so that he could keep a promise.
Not that he was coming. As I put on my makeup, I was sure I was getting dressed up for nothing.
But if he did come, I’d underestimated him. He wasn’t Vince at all.
The front gate buzzed at eight on the dot.
Holy crap.
I went to the closed-circuit monitor with the panel underneath. He stood at my front gate in a suit, holding flowers.
Was I being stupid?
Was I just falling for a different kind of crazy behavior? I’d told him no, but I’d put on a dress. I’d convinced myself he wasn’t coming and gotten disappointed about it.
Do you like him?
I liked him. A lot.
Do you trust him?
That couldn’t be answered so easily.
“Carter?” I said through the intercom. He looked at the camera. “I said there was no date tonight.”
He leaned into the keypad panel. “I know.” He let the button go, then pressed it again. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Could I?
He stuck the flowers between the gate’s rails and stepped back. Waved at the camera.
He was really going.
I spoke sharply into the panel so he’d hear me.
“Wait!”
CHAPTER 35
CARTER
She came out in heels and a light-pink dress, fully made up with her hair in a twist and a matching purse. One side of my brain wanted to grill her about when she knew she was coming on the date and how long she’d intended to keep me kissing the intercom.
The other side of my brain wanted to take out those hairpins and watch her blonde hair fall over her naked shoulders.
“Hi.” She unlocked the gate. “Let me bring these in.”
She swung the heavy gate open and pulled out the flowers. I took them and held my other hand out to her.
“Bring them in later.” I put them on the ground just inside her property. “If you go in, I’m going to follow you, and if we’re alone in the house, we won’t make our reservation.”
“Where are we going?”
“Downtown.”
She pulled the gate closed. I let her in the car and went around to the driver’s side. I barely had my seat belt on when I smelled her perfume. I usually saw her at work, where she smelled like sweat and lemongrass. I thought that was hot. This perfume with the pink dress was a whole new level of sexy.
“We going to go?” she asked.
“You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” She touched her hair as if I’d told her it was out of place. If she kept doing that, it was going to be more than out of place. It was going to be tangled in my fist.
I got us onto Olympic and headed east. It was a straight shot to our destination.
“Thank you for coming out,” I said, because there was nothing else to say. Gratitude was all I felt. It was in the way of any other conversation starter.
“I had nothing better to do,” she said with her head high in fake arrogance. When I stopped at a light, she was smiling at me.
“Good. I figured we’d check out the Three Stooges marathon at the Rogue Theater.”
“Divine. Then a boxing match, perhaps?”
“Actually, you’re making me really nervous about what I have planned, so stop joking around.”
“Okay, no joking. How is life? Are you going to move, since Darlene announced your neighborhood?”
“Nah. I’m going to pretend it never happened.” That wasn’t a real strategy, but I didn’t have much of a choice. “But I’d appreciate it if you kept away from specifics when you talk about me to all your girlfriends.”
I turned down Factory Place and into a parking lot.
“I can do that.”
“Thank you.” I stopped the car and put it in park.
“If you tell me why.”
Her fingers hooked around the top of her purse, and she held her head high. I twisted to face her as much as I could, getting an elbow on the steering wheel and draping my other arm over the seat.
“When?”
“When, what?”
“When do you want me to share everything that’s important to me?”
Her head tilted slightly and her eyelids scrunched. She was thinking.
“Sometime. Not today. But not never.”
“Deal.”
I got out of the car before I spilled everything just to get it out of the way. I was going to have her. I had no doubt about that, but I didn’t need to go off half-cocked just because my dick was working my brain’s control panel.
I walked her across the lot.
“Are we going there?” She pointed up a flight of corrugated iron steps to the Los Angeles Gun Club.
“Yeah.” I put my arm on her shoulder and stroked her skin. “I booked half an hour. It’s fun, and this way you’ll know how to hold a fake gun.”
“I don’t carry that anymore. You scared me out of the habit.”
“Good.”
I opened the door.
CHAPTER 36
EMILY
The ear protectors muffled the pops and cracks around me. The visor was so clean and light I barely knew it was over my eyes. The gun was pink, which I didn’t think was possible, but it was the club’s most popular rental. I liked it because it wasn’t as scary as the others.
All I felt was Carter’s body behind me. His right foot pushing mine into place. His arms around mine, meeting at the focal point of our joined hands. His hips just an inch away, too far for me to feel for his arousal.
I had earmuffs on, so he tapped my shoulder when he wanted me to squeeze the trigger. My arms bent with the recoil, and I smelled a more intense Carter smell—gunpowder. The bullet missed the black and white paper target by a mile.
Carter moved the muff away from my ear.
“You keep flinching when you shoot. Don’t turn your head.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Pretend it’s Vince, and if you turn your head, he might come at you.”
He slid the earpiece back on, pressed his body against me, and squeezed my hands. I squinted until I could see Vince’s goatee, his leering smile, smell his sense of entitlement.
I shot, missing the bull’s-eye. But I didn’t turn my head, and I didn’t flinch.
I pushed my mufflers off my head. “I did it!”