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Carter actually moves his hand to pull it off, but Reagan grabs his wrist. “They don’t need to see that ridiculous thing. No man will ever measure up again. I won’t do that to Brody or Skylar’s future husband.” The two of them laugh. “And, Skylar, it would takewaymore than a few inches.” They laugh again. Clearly, these two lunatics are made for each other.
Harley narrows her eyes. “There’s no way he’s bigger than Brody. I’m not sure that’s physically possible.”
Reagan just smiles.
She starts to sit up, but Carter grabs her and holds her body down. “Do your sisters know about your T-A-T-T-O-O?”
“Well, Miriam, my sisters both have Ivy League undergraduate and graduate degrees. They can both spell tattoo. Skylar, since she was about four, and Harley, straight from the womb.”
Harley and I laugh. I put him at ease. “We all have the same tattoo, Carter.”
Reagan shakes her head. “I got mine first. They copied me, and Brody initially didn’t want Harley to mark herperfect ass.”
“I do have a perfect ass. Don’t be jealous.”
Without any remote care that we’re in the room, Carter pulls Reagan on top of him, completely naked, and grabs her ass hard with both hands. “Your ass is perfect too.”
She also doesn’t care that we’re in the room and bends down to open-mouth kiss him.
I grab two towels from the bathroom and throw them at them, hoping they’ll consider covering up.
I look out the window at the view while they cover themselves. “Reagan, are those your boob prints on the window?”
“Maybe.”
I turn back toward her. “Are those your handprints both aboveandbelow them?”
She smiles as she shrugs her shoulders in guilt.
Damn, I need some of what she’s getting.
Carter smiles. “I love your sibling banter. It’s so nice. I definitely missed out on that growing up.”
“We’ll be your siblings too soon enough, Carter. You’ll regret that statement.” He laughs.
Harley grabs my arm. “Come on. Let’s give them some privacy to get dressed. We’ll set up the breakfast we brought.”
Normal people would quickly get dressed and come to the kitchen. Not Reagan and Carter. They take a forty-five-minute shower, which is code for having sex in the shower.
They eventually walk out, hand-in-hand, freshly showered with huge smiles. It’s nice to see Reagan so in love. I’ve never seen her this way with a man before.
We finally sit down to eat. Harley asks, “So, this is where you guys plan to live, right?”
Reagan shrugs. “I don’t know. We haven’t really discussed it. I guess so.”
I’m surprised they haven’t discussed it. They’re getting married. “Don’t you need to figure that out? When are you moving in together?”
Carter and Reagan look at each other, clearly never having talked about this either. I look at Harley. Something is severely off here.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
REAGAN
The next few weeks are a blur of bliss. Carter and I go out. We stay in. We make love. We fuck. We take long motorcycle rides. We laugh. I’m falling deep for this guy.
We’re at a point where we rarely spend a night apart. Even if we have other plans, we end the evening next to each other, or rather, on top of each other, in bed. I don’t usually like clingy guys, but I can admit that I’m loving the fact that he can’t keep his hands off me. Ever. I find myself craving his touch when we’re not together.
Carter comes to every Sunday night dinner with my family. They’re falling for him too. He and Jackson, in particular, seem to have a strong bond. I appreciate that Jackson is making such a nice effort to get to know Carter.
