He pressed a kiss against her temple. “You deserve better.”
“I found better. I made my own family.”
He gestured in the direction of the living room where the painting hung. “Lucille?”
Memories flitted across Perdie’s mind. “We met in high school. Lucille was a weird art kid, and I was a total loner. She was my only friend and her family took care of me when my mother didn’t. Or couldn’t. A real Daria/Jane combo.”
“What’s Daria/Jane?”
She let out a laugh. “How could I forget you’re younger than me? Still, this is a reference you should know. Required education. We can watch it later.”
“Ask me more.”
She smiled at his insistence. For a man with A+ dirty talk in bed, there was something so pure about him in this moment. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do that you’ve never told anyone?”
“Something I’ve never told anyone? Not exactly a secret, but I don’t usually talk about it.”
Perdie gestured expectantly. “Well?”
“Climb Denali.”
“The fucking mountain?” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, you mentioned that our first night together. But why?”
“Unstoppable force...unmovable object...” He shrugged. “This will come as a surprise to you, but I’m something of a people pleaser.”
Perdie clutched at her sternum, in mock surprise.
He chuckled. “I spent so much time trying to please my parents with all my accomplishments, I think I forgot to do anything fun. They would freak out at the idea.”
Perdie couldn’t fathom her own mother caring that much about Perdie’s safety. “Ahhh... I see. But nothing’s actually stopping you. You’re a grown man, you can do what you want.”
“Even if that were true, there’s still the eighty-hour work weeks, and the new partnership position I took all the way out on the East Coast...and a certain person who seems to be taking up quite a lot of my mental capacity...”
Perdie fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Well, we don’t always get to follow all our dreams.”
Carter smiled affably. “Suppose not. Dreams are just that, after all.”
She peeked up from beneath her lashes. “Ever had your heart broken?”
His thumb brushed at the sensitive skin of her wrist. “Most of my breakups have been amicable. I had a serious girlfriend in college but we ended things when I moved back to San Francisco.”
“Amicable means you’ve always done the dumping. How inexperienced.”
“What about me says inexperienced?”
“I mean when it comes to heartache.”
Carter rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Huh, I never really thought about it like that.”
“Imagine not ever having to worry you’ll get your heart broken. That’s what I call a fantasy world. I always assume it’s inevitable. Misery lurking around every corner.”
“You a heartbreak expert, then?”
Perdie scoffed. “Expert? I’m the queen. Queen of the Dumped. First time was when I was nineteen. That’s when I got the tattoo.” She twisted around, lifting her shirt to show him the purple-and-yellow flower. “It was meant to symbolize freedom and beauty.”
He leaned over for the view. “Right, right. Of course.”
She yanked the shirt down again and adjusted herself against him. “Next time at twenty-three. Then again at twenty-seven, three times with the same guy if you can believe it. He kept convincing me to come back only to dump me again. He was a pastry chef, so you can understand my dilemma. Hell, Lucille made me sign a notarized contract to prevent a fourth go-around. And the last time at thirty-two. Ever since then, I’ve kept my heart out of the deal. Or maybe I’ve lost the key to it. That would be on brand, at least. It gets old after a while, you know? Lucille and I can live together forever without anybody else, and I’m just fine with that. Why risk what you don’t want to lose?”
At that, Carter’s face was thoughtful. “Hmph. And are any of those terms up for renegotiation?”
The jingle of Bananas’s collar grew audible from the hallway. The light clacks of nails neared.
“He’s gotta go out,” Perdie murmured. She rolled to her feet, Carter’s hand squeezing hers before letting go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rain boots were the wrong choice to wear out in snow, but Perdie didn’t have any other kind of inclement weather gear. So, she made do with the shiny black knee-highs, freezing snow particles leaking over the edge against her bare shins.
Luckily, Bananas, sun worshipper extraordinaire, was ready to haul ass back into the warmth of her condo. Perdie caught him by the backside. “No stairs for you, old guy.” She scooped him up and trudged through the foot of snow piled onto the outdoor staircase. Luckily the overhang in front of her front door had limited the snowdrift.
She waffled outside for a minute, shivering. She had to level with herself. She was existing in a dream state, a mystical, snowy dream state. And it wasn’t just the weed. Getting snowed in had inoculated her against worries about work and worries about her relationship with Carter. Like they were the only two people in the world. And because of that, she’d let her guard down. A dangerous thing to do.
But addictive.
She pushed the door open, and after setting Bananas gently on the floor, the little dog took off running towards Carter.
Carter knelt to scratch the dog’s head, distracted as he held his phone to his ear. “Ma... I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s one holiday. There’s no way I’ll be getting on a plane tonight. Besides, I have a deposition in San Francisco two weeks from now. You can wait two weeks. And don’t save me any fruitcake. I still won’t eat it.”
