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Because one thing I know for sure is that Carter will seduce me and bail on me. All of his sexy smiles and his lustful glances looking me up and down are just his usual tools of the trade. I’m a librarian, he’s a ballplayer. I know this story, and it won’t end up well for me.
Still, I did agree. And I do have Rudy, who’s currently watching me as I get ready for my and Carter’s first fake date. I’ve done everything I can to refocus. I didn’t trust myself on my usual hike through the woods, so instead, I went to the library. Sure, it’s my day off, but I needed an escape. The kind only a book can provide. Or three books. Three really dry books. I avoided all romance like the plague since I don’t need any extra titillation right now.
Still, not even a book about taxes could erase the effect Carter had on me. So I decided to do some good instead. I boxed up some of the extra dog treats that I made and walked them around the neighborhood, saying hello to everyone and handing out dog treats to every dog I passed. As an added bonus, I got to hear all the hot gossip from my neighbor Jillian, who suspects there’s something going on between one of my besties, Maggie, and Ryan Sheppard.
I really like Jillian.
She’s old enough to be my grandma and she’s got all the best gossip.
Anyway, I’m not surprised something is going on between Maggie and Ryan because Maggie has been all riled up about Ryan and his lack of Christmas décor and also because these damn Sheppard brothers are clearly casting some kind of sexual voodoo.
They’re like presents with the prettiest wrapping paper that contain the worst gifts. Like socks. Or a sweater that’s too tight.
Actually, no, those aren’t even terrible presents. Because, I’ll admit, a good pair of fuzzy socks? Perfection. And a tight sweater?
Suddenly, I’m thinking of Carter’s eyes as they traveled over my sweater. Was he imagining what I looked like underneath? I’m not a Shepphoe, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Carter. The way he looks at me? Well, it thrills me, and I realize too late that I’m down the rabbit hole of lust again.
And as I dig through my closet, I’m already kicking myself for gravitating towards my sexier items. Which, let’s be real, are still fairly conservative. But I decide on a V-neck red sweater and a plaid skirt that’s just a couple inches too short for the library. He might even remember what my name is in this outfit. If not, at least I’m ready for this mysterious photographer he’s booked.
And because I’m getting a little carried away, I take the time to tame my hair, adding product to control my curls. Then I pay extra attention to my makeup, adding some winged eyeliner that really pops behind my glasses, and I even manage to dig out some red lipstick that’s hiding at the back of my makeup drawer. When I look in the mirror, I almost don’t recognize myself.
Give me a new nickname now, Carter. I dare you.
Soon, there’s a knock on my door, followed by Rudy making a beeline to greet the visitor. I take a breath to steady myself and resist the urge to change at the last minute, then follow Rudy to the door. I do my best to school my face into calm disinterest, as if I’m always going on fake dates with professional athletes, and then I let the door swing open.
Carter’s dressed in dark jeans, a graphic tee, and a blazer. And yes, he manages to look hot as hell and fashionable in an effortless way. He’s wearing brown leather boots and his hair’s tamed for once, his jaw freshly shaved without a nick in sight. And he smells divine, like the world’s most expensive cologne with notes I can’t even begin to identify.
I force myself to not look impressed. Thankfully, Rudy provides a distraction by doing several excited twirls in front of Carter as he begs for ear scratches.
“Rudy,” I start to scold. “Stop—”
“How’s my favorite guy?” Carter asks Rudy, dropping down to his knees as he gives Rudy not just ear scratches but belly rubs too. “You miss me?”
I hate to say it, but clearly, Rudy did miss Carter. He gives a few happy little yips as Carter continues to belly-rub him into nirvana.
What the hell? I thought Carter was a shitty dog owner. And now he and Rudy are acting like long-lost family?
Unreal.
“Where are we going?” I ask coolly, still feeling pouty about Rudy’s lack of loyalty.
Carter looks up at me, eyes sparkling. “You’ll see, sprite.”
“Excuse me,” I say. “I wore heels. Therefore, you’re not allowed to call me that.”
I gesture to the heels. Carter stands up, at his full height right in front of me. And even with three inches of help, he’s still a giant. A tall, muscular, deserves-to-be-climbed giant.
