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I also know a little secret about it, something that maybe Carter doesn’t want to share with a whole lot of people. “This is some of the stuff you sing with my mom, huh?”
There’s a little tint of red in him as he turns down the music slightly.
“No, no, keep the volume up. I like what I’m hearing, Carter.” I shoot him a slight smile and decide to hit him with the chaser. “And I like what I hear out of that room, too.”
The words only make him more bashful. “You’re listening to my singing lessons?”
“Sometimes. My mother’s right, by the way. You have a good voice. You’d blow a lot of the people at church away, and some of them used to be professional singers.”
He laughs, so overwhelmed by it all. This isn’t what he’s used to hearing. I have to confess that I’m using what I heard my mother tell him. She went on and on about how charming Carter’s voice is and how she wishes he would embrace his talents and sing for other people. She’s more than willing to give him all the lessons in the world, but her frustrations are clear to me.
We roll up to the Italian restaurant he talked about. He leads me in. The place is busy, and it looks like one of those fancy Italian places you see in movies and on TV. It’s still very much Burly County though. Not everyone is dressed in tuxedos and gowns. In fact, I’d say that Carter and I are easily the best dressed people here. There’s no live music, instead some ambient music plays from a jukebox. The restaurant has its own atmosphere, and it feels very welcoming. And not just because the hostess seems especially chipper about guiding us to our booth.
“I’ve never been to a fancy place like this,” I say as I sip the ginger ale I ordered. “Usually when my parents take me out to eat, it’s to some typical burger place. Like they don’t trust their three girls enough to behave in a fancy restaurant.”
“Maybe your dad just likes burgers more than shrimp scampi.”
“He’s always been pretty straightforward, so that sounds about right to me.” I lean in, looking him in the eyes. “So, what’s the occasion here? Are you just trying to impress me?”
He leans back to look at me. “You nailed it. Is my attempt to impress you working?”
“It absolutely is.”
We keep talking and enjoying the night, and everything that comes with it. A big plate of fettuccine alfredo for me, and the aforementioned shrimp scampi for him. Throughout our conversation, it’s undeniable I’m drifting toward him. Both figuratively and literally, the circular booth allows me to inch closer and closer to him until his hand is over my shoulder, him holding me close with a smile on his face, and one on my own to match.
He’s so sweet. Clever. Funny. He’s everything that you would think he wasn’t if you just took a single look at him. The feelings inside me are such a chaotic mess and I really have no idea how I’m supposed to deal with them.
“What do you say about me and you getting dessert to go and going on a bit of a drive to somewhere where it can be just the two of us?”
I giggle. “I think I’d like that very much.”
We order cannolis and when they arrive, he stands up from the booth, offering me his hand.
I take it and slightly shudder with the good kind of anxiety. My adrenaline is pumping and has been for the entire date. My anticipation of what’s going to happen next with Carter Rowdy is going to give me a heart attack.
And that heart attack is going to be totally worth it.
5
CARTER
Idrive her up the back roads of Home to some cliffs with a picnic area. It’s where my dad used to take the family for Fourth of July fireworks, and paired it with a huge cookout. This place is very special to him and my mother, he’s always said, and he’s never elaborated further. As a kid, I had no idea what he meant. As an adult? I’ve developed quite a few theories. Ones that I’d prefer not to think about too hard, honestly.
We climb out to enjoy the view, as well as the cannolis.
It’s such a serene night, and we can see both Home and Burly from up here as we lean back on the hood of my truck.
I look Cadence’s way and she looks mine. She’s adorably awkward, unsure of what to do next. I’m no veteran of love, but I’ve got a better idea of what to do than she does.
I push the hair out of her eyes and she stares into my pupils, those beautiful brown eyes of hers so damn charming. I go for it.
I kiss her.
And she melts right into me. It’s awkward for only a moment before she leans into me, more than ready to embrace me right back. Lips against mine, they meet again and again, and it’s not long before simple pecks become messy ones, and then our tongues start to get involved. Fingers through her hair, running down her body, I’m enjoying her endless curves and seeing more of the wondrous specimen of womanhood that she truly is.
My heart pounds as it turns into a good, proper make-out session. It just feels right. Like this is how it’s always meant to be. She’s the one. Pretty, sweet, innocent, and everything I’m not.
Everything I’m not. The thought pounds through me. There’s a part of me that demands I go further. That demands I pull her dress down and reveal that luscious naked form that she’s hiding from me. My cock is screaming at me to do so, to unleash him from his prison and for me to take her, and take her hard. To make her scream for me, toes curling, back arching, not making love, but good, hard fucking.
