A pair of black-and-white Chuck Taylors.
She looked down at her own outfit. Gray T-shirt, worn jeans, black-and-white Chuck Taylors. Of course she had the added element of a big old red wine stain. Cute. Still, the sight of their matching outfits made her slap her hand to her mouth, an unfortunate giggle escaping.
She dropped her hand at his surprised look, straightening up. “Is that your sister?” she asked before she could stop herself. Years of diligent rom-com watching had taught her that men were often out meeting their sisters early on Saturday mornings and not their lovers.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Don’t have a sister. But I’m pretty close to my sister-in-law.”
She looked down, shuffling her feet. “Oh, so like a cousin or a really young aunt or something then?”
Amusement played across his features, but he stood stock-still, challenging her. “Nope and nope.”
She fidgeted. “Okay, then. I gotta—”
“It’s something personal,” he said, scratching the top of his head. “Can’t really...talk about it yet.”
She pressed her lips into a facsimile of a smile. “Well, whoever, I mean, whatever it is you’re doing here, I hope it all goes fucking amazing. Great seeing you.” She pulled a big step to the right of him, but he moved with her. She pivoted to the other side, but he moved with her again. And again once more.
“You mind?” She stopped, hands on her hips, exasperation dotting her voice. The sun broke through the leaves, and in the dappled light his eyes looked especially green.
“You live around here?” he asked.
She paused, unsure how to respond, but then held up her dead phone. “No, actually. I might be stranded. Kind of a wild night...” Her voice trailed off. “Hey. Do you mind if I order a car from your phone? Promise I’ll pay you back.” She wouldn’t but it was nice to say.
He crossed his arms. “I’ll give you a ride.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, really. I don’t want you to keep Amanda waiting.”
“Aubrey.”
“Whatever.”
He held up his index finger. “Just wait. Just give me one moment. Don’t—don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
She held her hands up to decline but then let them drop. What exactly were her choices right now anyway? Still, she was suspicious. “Okay, I’ll wait right here.”
He jogged into the house, closing the door behind him. Instead of giving in to the urge to eavesdrop through a window, she picked away at her manicure—black gels, but she would maybe change it up tomorrow. She was thinking red. Red like—
“Okay.” Carter reemerged and waved her over to a large SUV parked out front. The car beeped when he clicked the key fob. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Six
Perdie breathed in big and deep like she was doing a line of coke. Except it wasn’t coke she was inhaling, but that familiar, cool scent Carter seemed to naturally exude. She wanted to push her nose into his chest and rub it all over her. He smelled like air smelled the morning after it snowed.
She crossed her arms, squishing her seat belt into the crevice of her boobs, feeling dank and musty in her day-old T-shirt with the red wine stain. It would’ve been nice if she had brought a jacket with her, but the weather had been wonky in Charleston.
“Congrats on the settlement.” Carter’s eyes flicked to her, his large hand resting on the console between them as he drove. “Big personal win for you, right?”
It had been. In fact, Perdie had received an email from her managing partner, Frank, requesting to set up a meeting with her on Monday. “Good news only,” Frank had said.
Perdie had her hopes up. She tucked her hair behind her ears and caught a glance of herself in the side mirror. Shit. She smoothed down the errant hairs on the crown of her head. “Yeah, on my side of the table, we only eat what we kill. We don’t pump our clients for hours and then walk away with a fat check even if we lose.”
A puff of air escaped his lips. “I guess we’re not all natural born killers. You think maybe I could learn?”
She pushed her head into her hand against the passenger window. “Not a chance.”
He laughed. “Well, tell me how you really feel.”
She narrowed her eyes. There was levity in Carter’s voice, but people often said that to her as if she was too honest with them. What they really meant was stop telling me how you feel because I don’t like it. But it did make Noah’s words ring in her head. Holding in feelings wasn’t only bad for the soul. It was bad for the body too.
“Why’re you here?” She turned her head to get a good look at his profile offset by the white-blue Charleston sky whipping by them.
His smile faded and he scrubbed his hand down his mouth. “One a scale of one to ten, how irritating would it be to say I couldn’t tell you?”
She pursed her lips. “I’d say you’re gonna need a bigger scale.”
He chuckled. “Would a lie suffice, then?”
His large hands slid up to the smooth curve of the steering wheel, as they merged onto the Ravenel Bridge, its flared white rib cage swallowing them whole.
“Okay, man of mystery. I can take a hint. None of my business.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, gazing out the window, his reflection visible against the glass. It surprised her when the next sound was her own voice. “The blonde woman though.”
The sides of his eyes crinkled, but he seemed to suppress a smile. “Yes. Aubrey.”
“Aubrey doesn’t care that you left her hanging to drive me home?”
His eyes flickered over to her. “Oh, I see. You’re jealous.”
Like a reflex, she went to deny it, but then she stopped herself. For weeks she’d been thinking about this man, and then he finally appeared in the flesh right in front of her like some kind of dark apparition. She wouldn’t waste this moment on plausible deniability. “Honestly?” She shrugged, letting her hands fall together in her lap. “Yeah. I am.”
