furthest thing from a date that anything could be, but I feel like he’s asking me on a date.
“I guess that would be okay,” I finally agree and he lets go of me so I can run and gather up my things.
I forget all about the potato salad. It’s only deli brand anyway. I hope Candice chokes on it. And when I catch up with Carter, it’s quiet between us for a few strides. I’m not used to us being on “friendly” terms like this so I have no idea what to say. Luckily, Carter does.
“I didn’t mean to get you all riled up tonight, Iris. It’s just that, when I saw Meg this morning and realized you hadn’t told me about the meeting, I assumed –“ Meg?
I stop short. “What? No, I came by,” I promise.
His head tilts, confused. “You did?”
I nod before the words come. “Yesterday. Twice. I knocked and knocked but you didn’t answer and I saw your truck out front so I knew you were there; I just figured you were avoiding me after Saturday and how awkward things got.”
His stare is blank, like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying.
“I left you a note,” I assure him.
He runs his fingers through his hair and when he’s done, I’m tempted to fix it although it looks fine the way it is if I’m being honest. Better than fine really. Sexy.
“Iris, I’m sorry, I was up all night Saturday working and then I fell asleep and then next thing I knew, it was Monday.”
The realization that this was all just a misunderstanding wakes me up and I stop fantasizing about his hair long enough to engage in adult conversation again.
“So you weren’t avoiding me?”
“No, hell no. Why would I do that? I like it when we hang out.”
“You . . .” I trail off because not only do I feel like an idiot for assuming, but he likes it when we hang out ?
“Really?”
He gives his head a small shake and lets a humorous huff out through his nose and walks away. “And what do you mean, awkward ?”
“What?” I catch up to him after a few half jogs.
“You thought Saturday was awkward ?”
“Well, yeah.” Didn’t he?
“I didn’t think that was awkward. Did you really think that was awkward?”
“Oh no, I guess not. I just thought . . . I mean . . .” I try to play it off but in the end, I confess, “Yeah maybe a little.”
Carter laughs and gives an animated nod of his head. “The grocery store? Now that was awkward.”
“Hmmm?”
He stops to give me his full attention. “Fingering potatoes? Really?”
And now we’re both laughing. It feels so easy with him. The way he smiles and pokes fun but not in a mean way, and how he just totally stood up for me when I’ve been nothing but rude to him. We get to my car and he lets out a happy sounding sigh.
“I guess this is you.”
“I guess it is.” I take my keys out of my purse.
“Friends?” He offers a hand to shake.
How am I supposed to ever even consider saying no to that grin? I take his hand in mine. “Friends.”
“I’ll see ya ‘round, Iris.” He gives me an approving nod.
“Okay.”
He heads over to his truck but stops as he opens the door.
“Hey Iris?”
I tilt my head at him and that grin of his, I love that grin.
“I do have a nice ass, don’t I?” He winks and slides behind the steering wheel before the blood finishes rising to my cheeks.
I linger as he pulls his truck out of the parking lot, thinking over everything that has just transpired between us. Clearly I’ve misjudged the man. Maybe he isn’t the soul sucking, house flipper from hell who’s just out to make a buck. Maybe he’s the opposite.
And maybe I enjoy his easy smile and bright eyes a little more than I care to admit.
Maybe Carter Blackwood isn’t so bad, after all.
Chapter 8. Carter
After the unexpected truce and official declaration of friendship that happened between us earlier this week, I kind of expected to see Iris more, not less. Surprisingly, though, I spend the next few days holed up on the house, getting all
“I guess that would be okay,” I finally agree and he lets go of me so I can run and gather up my things.
I forget all about the potato salad. It’s only deli brand anyway. I hope Candice chokes on it. And when I catch up with Carter, it’s quiet between us for a few strides. I’m not used to us being on “friendly” terms like this so I have no idea what to say. Luckily, Carter does.
“I didn’t mean to get you all riled up tonight, Iris. It’s just that, when I saw Meg this morning and realized you hadn’t told me about the meeting, I assumed –“ Meg?
I stop short. “What? No, I came by,” I promise.
His head tilts, confused. “You did?”
I nod before the words come. “Yesterday. Twice. I knocked and knocked but you didn’t answer and I saw your truck out front so I knew you were there; I just figured you were avoiding me after Saturday and how awkward things got.”
His stare is blank, like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying.
“I left you a note,” I assure him.
He runs his fingers through his hair and when he’s done, I’m tempted to fix it although it looks fine the way it is if I’m being honest. Better than fine really. Sexy.
“Iris, I’m sorry, I was up all night Saturday working and then I fell asleep and then next thing I knew, it was Monday.”
The realization that this was all just a misunderstanding wakes me up and I stop fantasizing about his hair long enough to engage in adult conversation again.
“So you weren’t avoiding me?”
“No, hell no. Why would I do that? I like it when we hang out.”
“You . . .” I trail off because not only do I feel like an idiot for assuming, but he likes it when we hang out ?
“Really?”
He gives his head a small shake and lets a humorous huff out through his nose and walks away. “And what do you mean, awkward ?”
“What?” I catch up to him after a few half jogs.
“You thought Saturday was awkward ?”
“Well, yeah.” Didn’t he?
“I didn’t think that was awkward. Did you really think that was awkward?”
“Oh no, I guess not. I just thought . . . I mean . . .” I try to play it off but in the end, I confess, “Yeah maybe a little.”
Carter laughs and gives an animated nod of his head. “The grocery store? Now that was awkward.”
“Hmmm?”
He stops to give me his full attention. “Fingering potatoes? Really?”
And now we’re both laughing. It feels so easy with him. The way he smiles and pokes fun but not in a mean way, and how he just totally stood up for me when I’ve been nothing but rude to him. We get to my car and he lets out a happy sounding sigh.
“I guess this is you.”
“I guess it is.” I take my keys out of my purse.
“Friends?” He offers a hand to shake.
How am I supposed to ever even consider saying no to that grin? I take his hand in mine. “Friends.”
“I’ll see ya ‘round, Iris.” He gives me an approving nod.
“Okay.”
He heads over to his truck but stops as he opens the door.
“Hey Iris?”
I tilt my head at him and that grin of his, I love that grin.
“I do have a nice ass, don’t I?” He winks and slides behind the steering wheel before the blood finishes rising to my cheeks.
I linger as he pulls his truck out of the parking lot, thinking over everything that has just transpired between us. Clearly I’ve misjudged the man. Maybe he isn’t the soul sucking, house flipper from hell who’s just out to make a buck. Maybe he’s the opposite.
And maybe I enjoy his easy smile and bright eyes a little more than I care to admit.
Maybe Carter Blackwood isn’t so bad, after all.
Chapter 8. Carter
After the unexpected truce and official declaration of friendship that happened between us earlier this week, I kind of expected to see Iris more, not less. Surprisingly, though, I spend the next few days holed up on the house, getting all
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