“But I keep cruisin'.Can't stop, won't stop movin'.”
He turned to me, wiggling his eyebrows as he sang.I burst out laughing, the sound mixing with the music and the rush of the wind.
“Come on, Sunny,” he said during the brief instrumental.“Don't leave me hanging.”
I was still giggling, but I joined in for the chorus: “Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play...”
We sang at the top of our lungs, not caring how off-key we sounded.Carter drummed on the steering wheel while I danced in my seat, our voices carrying out into the open air.
As the song faded out, we dissolved into laughter.I wiped tears from my eyes, my cheeks aching from smiling so hard.
“Okay,” I said, catching my breath, “who are you, and what have you done with the real Carter Cassidy?”
He grinned, shrugged, and reached over to take my hand.“I’m full of surprises, remember?”
I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.“Well, consider me thoroughly surprised.And impressed.Your T-Swift game is strong.”
“High praise indeed.”
We lapsed into comfortable silence, the radio playing softly in the background.
Just a few months ago, I was struggling to get out of bed, weighed down by pain and heartbreak.Now, here I was, cruising down the highway with a man who looked at me like I hung the moon and sang Taylor Swift without caring who heard.
I glanced at Carter, taking in his profile.His jaw was relaxed, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth.He looked happy.Content.
“What are you thinking about?”he asked, catching me staring.
I gave his knee an affectionate squeeze.“Just how lucky I am.How good this feels.”
His smile widened.“I know exactly what you mean.”
As we neared my house, a thought struck me.“Hey, what are we going to do with these pumpkins anyway?”
“Carve them, of course.”
I raised an eyebrow.“You carve pumpkins?”
“I'm an architect, Sunny.I think I can handle a little pumpkin carving.”
I chortled, shaking my head.“Alright, Mr.Architect.Let's see what you've got.”
* * *
I couldn’t suppressmy giggles as I watched Carter fight with his pumpkin.His eyebrows drew together, and his tongue peeked out between his lips as he struggled to carve a straight line.It was adorable.I leaned over to inspect his handiwork.
“You know, for an architect, your lines are surprisingly wobbly.”
Carter's eyes narrowed playfully.“Oh yeah?Let's see you do better.”
I’d just opened my mouth to retort when something cold and slimy hit my cheek.My jaw dropped as I realized he had just flicked pumpkin guts at me.
“You did not just do that,” I squeaked, wiping the stringy mess off my face.
His grin was downright wicked.“What are you gonna do about it?”
Oh, it is on.I scooped up a handful of pumpkin goop and lobbed it at him.It landed right on his chest with a satisfying splat.
Carter's mouth twisted into a feral grin.“Oh, you’re in trouble now.”
