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I grab my phone off my nightstand and check the time, surprised that it reads 8:00 p.m. I must have been tired if I slept nearly 11 hours. On the days that Carter is home, I usually try to take a nap so I can spend most of my free time with him before he heads off on another assignment or I have to work another shift. I guess I forgot to set my alarm due to my fatigue.
When I get downstairs, I see Daphne resting on the couch, her arm draped over her eyes. She sits up when she hears me enter the room. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she teases.
“Is it good morning or good night?” I ask with a yawn, not quite awake. Not expecting an answer, I shuffle into the kitchen on autopilot and pop a pod into our coffee machine. It’s the longest minute of my life, waiting for my cup to brew.
“Did I miss dinner?” I ask.
“I left you a plate and put it in the refrigerator, figuring you could heat it up whenever you were ready to eat.”
“Thanks. You’re the best!” I hug my sister, showing my appreciation for her kindness. I grab my cup of coffee and walk over to the living room window to peek outside. Carter’s car is still missing from the driveway. I can’t help the frown that appears on my face, feeling let down that he’s not here. Daphne comes over and crowds my space, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.
“You’re invading my comfort bubble!” I snap jokingly, shoving her away from me.
She chuckles. “Girl, we shared a much more crowded living space for nine months. I have squatter’s rights and can get as close to you as I want.” Despite her words, she gives me a little breathing room and takes a seat on the sofa. “Lemme guess, you’re wondering where Carter is.”
I sigh. “I thought he would have been home by now. How long does a debriefing take?”
“He was here when I got home but said he didn’t want to wake you up, figuring you needed the sleep. You missed him by an hour.”
I furrow my brows, wondering where he would have gone on a Friday night. We usually have pizza and a movie marathon if he’s home and I’m off work. The first thought that pops into my mind is that he has a date. When the crease between my eyes becomes even more profound, Daphne throws up her hands in dismay.
“How many times have I told you that if you scrunch your forehead like that, those wrinkles will become permanent?” She gets up and licks her thumb as if she’s going to wipe my scowl away.
“Gross! Don’t you dare touch me with your thumb if you plan on keeping it!”
We both giggle, which does the trick and erases—what I like to call—my “deep thinking” face.
“Carter had his bags packed when I got home. He told me that while he was at the office, a last-minute request came in for additional security at a gala in Baltimore. He needed to leave right away so he could be there by tomorrow morning to scope out the location and meet up with the rest of the team. He should be home in two days.”
Lovely. He’ll return right about when I’m due to start my next shift. Now I’m bummed and don’t know what to do with myself. I look over at my sister and notice her eyes sparkle with mischief. “What?”
“I think you should get out of your pajamas and slip into a cute dress. Let’s go dancing!” she says excitedly. “Maybe we will meet some cute guys!”
I don’t really want to go dancing, but I haven’t spent any quality time with my sister in quite a while. “Fine. I’ll go get dolled up and be your wingman!”
She bounces giddily, “This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait!” Daphne takes off running for her room, not giving me a chance to change my mind. I slowly trudge up the stairs to get ready, trying my best not to dread the evening’s festivities.
Thirty minutes later, we’re heading out the door wearing cute cocktail dresses. Mine is a green bandage dress with spaghetti straps, fitted waist, and falls to mid-thigh. I’m wearing gold heels and jewelry to accent my ensemble. With my hair up in a fun but messy bun, I look like I’m ready to dance the night away, even though my heart isn’t in it.
Daphne always looks ready to go out, but even more so with the dark burgundy strapless dress she’s wearing paired with cute, silver peep-toe wedges. She grabs my hand and practically drags me from our house to a waiting Uber. As soon as the doors are shut, and she knows she has me trapped, she says, “Now, let’s go find you a man!”
Thankfully, Daphne didn’t try to set me up with anyone while we were out, and we simply enjoyed ourselves and spent time on the dance floor. She knew that if she did, I would have called one of our siblings to pick me up and bring me home, effectively ruining the night for her.
The next morning, Daphne wanted to go shopping and invited me to tag along. Loathing the idea of walking around a mall for hours on end, I declined. I would much rather spend the day doing something physical and productive to burn off my pent-up energy and keep my mind off missing my best friend.
Lo and behold, I had the perfect excuse when my brothers asked if I wanted to join them at Norman’s Rockwall for some indoor rock climbing. I jumped at the chance, much to my sister’s dismay. The activity wore me out enough that I slept through most of the night, feeling refreshed for my 24-hour shift this morning.
The smell of bacon wafts in the air, along with the scent of freshly-brewed coffee. Now alert and hungry, I make my way to the kitchen and stop in my tracks to admire the vision in front of me. Carter is at the stove shirtless and barefoot, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants, every muscle in his back clearly defined. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him shirtless, but the sight never gets old and only better as time goes on.
“Take a picture. It will last longer,” he teases, somehow aware that I’ve been standing there and silently ogling him. He doesn’t look at me as he continues to pan-fry the bacon with one hand while simultaneously scrambling eggs with the other.
Click.
At the sound of a camera shutter, he turns around to face me and sees the phone’s camera pointed directly at him. “Did you seriously just take a picture of me?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“What can I say? It was a good suggestion.” He chuckles while shaking his head in disbelief. I enjoy the way his soft curls bounce when he does it. I want to run my fingers through his hair but manage to control the urge. I don’t think it will go over well if I start petting him like he’s my dog.
“When did you get home? And how did your event go? Daphne mentioned you had a last-minute job for some gala in Baltimore.”
