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“Can I help you?” is all he manages, almost snarling at the old man before I butt in.
“Mr. Shultz, this is Carter, you remember Carter, dad’s oldest friend; don’t you?” I ask him, pressing my hand onto Carter’s arm to signal him to let me do the talking.
Please?
“Ah, so it is,” he announces, peering into the car again, noting with his eyes just how close Carter and I still are.
Dad would’ve asked him to keep an eye on the place while we’re away, so it’s only natural he’d come out and meet us once we got back, especially since we’re five days early.
“Everything alright?” he asks, peering over his thick glasses and giving me a very stern look.
“Fine, thanks,” I squeak. “Daddy got called back to work and I sprained my ankle in the snow. Carter’s been looking after me,” I hear myself babble, sounding more guilty by the second.
“So I saw,” the old man remarks. “Anyway, just saw you pull up and came to give you some mail,” he adds, which Carter takes from him.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” I ask, sounding desperate now.
Fighting to sound normal, knowing the old buzzard will tell my dad everything he saw the first chance he gets.
And I just know how much he saw from the amount of fog he’d left on the window.
“No, no. I’ll leave you two to it. Just thought it was your dad home with you is all,” he drawls, turning to shuffle off but making sure he gives me one final glance that lets me know that he knows everything.
“Nice to see you again, Carter,” he calls over his shoulder. “Let me know when your dad gets back, Serena,” he adds, shaking his head to himself before disappearing behind the hedge at the bottom of the driveway.
Carter groans to himself as he rolls the window up.
“He’s old,” I stammer. “I could just say…” But it’s no use. We both know we’re on borrowed time before my dad has to know.
Before we both break his heart because we’ve found our own joined together.
Carter smiles and pats my leg. “You up to walking without being carried? I wouldn’t want to be seen ravishing you in the driveway again. You have any other nosy neighbors?” he quips, making me think of Mrs. Peterson on the other side, and the Cunningham’s behind us.
Come to think of it, all our neighbors are pretty inquisitive. Something I never minded until just now.
It always made my dad feel safer leaving me alone if he had to and especially when I was away at college, the house being empty most of the time.
“Don’t forget those dishes,” I remind Carter, trying to lighten the mood again, knowing we have to go inside at some point and at some point too, I’m gonna need him to do me in almost every room of my house to satisfy my fantasies.
Proving to me that all of this is real and not just a dream.
He chuckles to himself, commenting that he did ask me to remind him, although dishes aren’t the first thing he had in mind once we got home.
Hearing him say home again, makes me feel something warm inside like no matter what happens from now on and even if it’s not here, I’ll always be home as long as I’m with Carter.
“What?” he asks, noting my stare.
“I just like it when you say home and it includes me,” I confess, feeling myself getting a little flushed again, that arousal slowly but surely making a comeback.
“I am home with you, Serena, no matter where we are,” he says, reading my mind and kissing me again.
Neighbors be damned.
I want to tell him it doesn’t just always have to be us. That one day I’d like us to be more than just two people.
Like having a family.
Being our own family, not just me and my dad.
But I don’t want to spring the idea on Carter too soon, he’s only just claimed me as his.
Letting me hobble as far as the door to let us in is all Carter lets me do, making sure he brings in all the gear that needs washing up from the cabin and setting to work to clean it once he’s started my bath running at a slow trickle.
“I told you,” he reminds me. “A hot bath, something to eat… and then…” he adds with a devilish grin.
I’m glad I’m sitting down when he says that because I feel myself go weak at the thought of his huge naked body pressed against mine again.
“Let me do something,” I pretend to complain.
“Strip,” he says jokingly with a smile as he half turns from the sink scrubbing some cast iron pots and rinsing our plates before he turns his back again fully, smiling to himself still.
