“I see Sleeping Beauty has arisen.” He sat down on the bed, handing her one of the cups.
She squinted, opening the lid to blow the liquid cool. “How are you up so early? And why do you look like that?”
Carter was in workout gear, pants and a zip-up sweatshirt with a pair of fancy but unidentifiable-to-Perdie running shoes. His hair was windblown but otherwise he appeared fresh as a daisy. “Best cure for a hangover is a run.”
“Get outta here. How come I keep forgetting you’re a masochist?”
He leaned over to trail his hand up her thigh and under her shirt. “Because we do so much stuff that feels so good together...” His breath against her made her eyes shutter as he kissed her lightly on the vulnerable shell of her ear.
“Ah, speaking of.”
Perdie jolted from her daze when Carter pulled away to show her his phone.
“Email from Frank and Charles Joy already. Looks like the Fletcher Group is very, very happy with us. They want to debrief first thing tomorrow morning.”
Perdie sipped her coffee tentatively. “Ugh, is this a nightmarish monkey’s paw type scenario where I wished for success and all success turned out to be was a bunch of meetings with old men who say inappropriate shit to me?”
“Don’t be such a pessimist. Someday fairly soon they’ll die.”
Perdie snorted in her coffee. “We have a while until our flight, don’t we? I’m gonna need a bit to kick this hangover. Unless you want to make the trek to a dispensary and procure me some hangover weed. It’s what Spider-Man would do for Mary Jane.”
Carter unzipped his hoodie, tossed it to the bed, and reached behind his neck to pull off the shirt underneath.
Perdie leaned back against the headboard to ogle him. Nope, never gets old. “You ever gonna tell me what those tattoos are all about?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think we’ve been on our third date yet. But I’ll tell you what, I know where to get you the best hangover weed on the planet. There’s just one caveat.”
“And that is?”
“Don’t freak out.”
“Commencing freak-out. What.”
Carter scratched his ear. “It’s my mothers’ house...”
“Freak-out intensifying.”
“I understand, but I told them I’d stop by before the end of the trip. Also, if you come with, I’ll tell you—no, I’ll show you—all about my tattoo. Even before the third date. Scout’s honor.”
Perdie winced as if the very act of thinking was painful. And in all honesty, it was. Every muscle in her body screamed absolutely the fuck not. She didn’t need to meet Carter’s family, what a committed thing to do.
But she fought the impulse. Fought the fear. She’d created enough negativity in her life by finding problems where problems didn’t exist. It was time to push her own boundaries a little. Emphasis on little.
Deep breath in. “I know I’ll regret this but...” her lids squeezed together “...fine.”
Carter clapped his hands. “I’m impressed with you, Bad Girl.” And he leaned to kiss her before heading towards the bathroom. “Meet me in the shower and I’ll show you my gratitude.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bernal Heights was a quick fifteen-minute drive from the financial district near their hotel. They packed up their suitcases and went on their way.
“This is absurd, right? Me meeting your family? Like it’s totally absurd. How about instead I walk straight into the Pacific Ocean?” Perdie was hastily braiding her damp hair as they pulled up to the driveway of a midcentury two-story. While in Charleston, it would have been a modest house at best, Perdie couldn’t begin to imagine the price tag on this kind of place in San Francisco. More than her mom could afford working the lunch shift at Shooters that’s for sure.
Carter parked the car in the driveway, the hum of the engine falling silent. His soft expression made her stop fiddling with the ends of her braid.
“I’m going to ask you for something, okay?”
She chewed her lip, eyeing him suspiciously. “Okay...”
His hand snaked over her lap, enveloped her own and gave it a squeeze. “I’m asking for you to be brave.”
It was a plea, a plea for her to rise to the occasion. Meet the family of the man she probably...very likely...most definitely...loved? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
She swallowed hard. “I can be brave.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing the outside. “Never doubted you. All right. Let’s go.”
They headed to the front door but before Carter’s knuckles even made contact with the painted wood, it swung open.
“Ah. Carter, darling, right on time as usual. Come in, come in.” A curvy, ethereal woman in a long, flowy taupe gown ushered Perdie and Carter into the living room of the beautiful open-concept home. Perdie recognized Cindy from her dreamy voice.
Perdie’s eyes went wide. The walls were adorned with paintings with colorful, bold graphic lines. Awfully familiar, that style of art.
“And you, you...” Cindy held Perdie by the upper arms, examining her face-to-face. “You must be Perdita. Perdita Stone, I believe. Is that right? Will you look at these colors on you...” The woman inspected Perdie with such intense scrutiny that Perdie didn’t even protest. Just withstood the inspection. “Perdita. Per-di-ta. Latin for lost. Unless my Latin is rusty.”
“Um...it’s my mother’s name. And her mother’s name.”
“Carter, will you go to the back garden and fetch your mother please? And let’s see. Stone. Like a cave. Ah. Wait. But that’s not right. Like a mountain. Hmm...it makes one wonder.”
