Something I need to show you.” I murmur into her hair.
She breaks away from our embrace just slightly and puckers her lips, which I kiss immediately, “okay, before dinner or after? Oh and where are we going for dinner, mom just mentioned all of us going to cut out multiple house trips,” she questions after our lips part.
“We are going to Blanco’s, so go do what you need to do get ready,” I smile against her mouth, “I am going like this, so don’t get too fancy, beautiful,” kissing her softly before I back away and head into to the living room.
I hear her clear her throat about thirty or so minutes later, based on my Castle episode time meter, and look her way to see her shyly smiling, her hair braided back and tendrils framing her face. I motion with my finger in a come-hither motion, and look her up and down as she moves closer. She still fits right in, dark jeans tucked into her brown suede knee boots, a pink and blue flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves. With her brown scarf and cream cardigan in her arms, she bends forward and kisses me chastely, winks and moves away.
“Let’s go before that fervor in your eyes changes my mind,” she giggles heading towards the door donning her sweater and scarf.
“Don’t play coy, and you know better than start shit you can’t finish,” I growl at her neck, gripping her hips and pulling her into me just before we reach the door. She rubs her ass suggestively against my crotch, and I lightly nip her ear.
“Oh we both know I can finish what I start Carter, but we have shit to do, so let’s get a move on,” she laughs and reaches for the door. Walking slowly out the door still not letting her go, I chuckle in her ear as I see her posture and breathing alter, I pull back to open the passenger door to my white Porche Cayenne.
“I am certain that if we are late to dinner, we will have your parents beating down my door, and I don’t think they need to see what I am planning to do to you,” I retort with a smirk and wink.
Somewhere along our twenty-minute drive to dinner, our fingers interlace, and she rambles on about how crazy this all feels, her and I going to dinner with her parents, and it all seeming so natural and yet surreal. I agree, but am completely content with where we are. We both agree that if it wasn’t for my trip to Florida, none of this would be taking place.
We pull into the parking lot, and I help her out of the car, ready to get back to where we once were, exchanging hugs as we meet David and Tracie in the entryway of Blanco’ and are seated shortly after. Blanco’s is the all-time best Italian pizzeria, it’s like heaven on earth setting your taste buds into a state of bliss. Once our drinks are delivered and dinner is ordered the conversation between all of us flows smoothly, and I sit back and drink up this moment, knowing from experience, it can vanish when you least expect it.
It was a little past nine when we left Blanco’s; dinner was great, the conversation flowed without any awkwardness up until my discovery that EVERYONE knew of Carter coming to Florida except me, which then prompted my mom to engage excitedly about how it turned out. By the time we are halfway across town, I notice that Carter is not driving towards his apartment any longer, in fact, we are traveling north opposed to east, and I’m beginning to wonder why.
“Carter, where are we going?” I ask through a yawn. He looks at me with eyes full of hesitation before giving me a weak smile.
“I told you, I had something to show you, one of the reasons I needed you to come home” he responds quietly.
I finally notice some familiarity along the dark roads, and squeeze his hand that is resting in mine. Maybe having me home has made him want to finally come out to the Browning Memorial Grounds where his grandparents were laid to rest. They passed away our freshman year in college within months of each other, and he refused to even drive out this way, I
She breaks away from our embrace just slightly and puckers her lips, which I kiss immediately, “okay, before dinner or after? Oh and where are we going for dinner, mom just mentioned all of us going to cut out multiple house trips,” she questions after our lips part.
“We are going to Blanco’s, so go do what you need to do get ready,” I smile against her mouth, “I am going like this, so don’t get too fancy, beautiful,” kissing her softly before I back away and head into to the living room.
I hear her clear her throat about thirty or so minutes later, based on my Castle episode time meter, and look her way to see her shyly smiling, her hair braided back and tendrils framing her face. I motion with my finger in a come-hither motion, and look her up and down as she moves closer. She still fits right in, dark jeans tucked into her brown suede knee boots, a pink and blue flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves. With her brown scarf and cream cardigan in her arms, she bends forward and kisses me chastely, winks and moves away.
“Let’s go before that fervor in your eyes changes my mind,” she giggles heading towards the door donning her sweater and scarf.
“Don’t play coy, and you know better than start shit you can’t finish,” I growl at her neck, gripping her hips and pulling her into me just before we reach the door. She rubs her ass suggestively against my crotch, and I lightly nip her ear.
“Oh we both know I can finish what I start Carter, but we have shit to do, so let’s get a move on,” she laughs and reaches for the door. Walking slowly out the door still not letting her go, I chuckle in her ear as I see her posture and breathing alter, I pull back to open the passenger door to my white Porche Cayenne.
“I am certain that if we are late to dinner, we will have your parents beating down my door, and I don’t think they need to see what I am planning to do to you,” I retort with a smirk and wink.
Somewhere along our twenty-minute drive to dinner, our fingers interlace, and she rambles on about how crazy this all feels, her and I going to dinner with her parents, and it all seeming so natural and yet surreal. I agree, but am completely content with where we are. We both agree that if it wasn’t for my trip to Florida, none of this would be taking place.
We pull into the parking lot, and I help her out of the car, ready to get back to where we once were, exchanging hugs as we meet David and Tracie in the entryway of Blanco’ and are seated shortly after. Blanco’s is the all-time best Italian pizzeria, it’s like heaven on earth setting your taste buds into a state of bliss. Once our drinks are delivered and dinner is ordered the conversation between all of us flows smoothly, and I sit back and drink up this moment, knowing from experience, it can vanish when you least expect it.
It was a little past nine when we left Blanco’s; dinner was great, the conversation flowed without any awkwardness up until my discovery that EVERYONE knew of Carter coming to Florida except me, which then prompted my mom to engage excitedly about how it turned out. By the time we are halfway across town, I notice that Carter is not driving towards his apartment any longer, in fact, we are traveling north opposed to east, and I’m beginning to wonder why.
“Carter, where are we going?” I ask through a yawn. He looks at me with eyes full of hesitation before giving me a weak smile.
“I told you, I had something to show you, one of the reasons I needed you to come home” he responds quietly.
I finally notice some familiarity along the dark roads, and squeeze his hand that is resting in mine. Maybe having me home has made him want to finally come out to the Browning Memorial Grounds where his grandparents were laid to rest. They passed away our freshman year in college within months of each other, and he refused to even drive out this way, I
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