Page 101 of A Better Place

CHAPTER TWENTY

Carly

“Hey, I have the enchiladas done!” James calls out from the kitchen, not realizing I am already in it. “Want to grab the drinks?”

He came over to celebrate New Year’s Eve with me. Jack has gone over to the Ryan’s house. Even though it’s only been a week, it still feels like we’re moving at lightning speed. Yet it doesn’t feel too fast. Because, according to all our friends and family, we had basically been dating for weeks leading up to the night at El Charro. Since our technical first date at The Shore and gun range, we haven’t been apart, but tonight is the first time since that we’ve been alone. And we weren’t really alone at any point during our date. To me, him being in my home and not having the distraction of other people around, feels like so much more.

“Sure!” I call out, and he turns around quickly, laughing. The fast movement causes him to bump into me since I am already standing so close to him, nearly causing him to drop the bowl of salsa he is holding.

“I’m sorry! So sorry, James. I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry,” I repeat over and over again.

He sets the salsa on the counter next to him and gives me an odd, yet knowing, look.

“What?”

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“Why? Because I turned around and bumped into you?”

I shrug my shoulders, and he immediately walks over and stands in front of me. “Carly. Babe. That wasn’t your fault. And if it was? I wouldn’t have been upset. Know this, okay? Accidents happen.”

When I don’t respond, he gives me an expectant look. I finally nod my head and give him a small smile, feeling relieved. One day I will move completely past it. One day.

He offers me a blinding smile in return. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, starved,” I say, thankful that he has moved on and doesn’t ask more questions.

He makes his way to the oven, removes the enchiladas, and then places the pan on a trivet he’d set on his kitchen table. I watch as his black V-neck t-shirt shifts with him. I can see the tattoos that wrap around his right bicep, flowing down his arm, ending just above his elbow.

I’m so mesmerized by the sight of his arms that I forget what I was tasked with. Who knows how long I’ve been standing there, staring at him like a creepy creeper when I finally manage to drag my eyes from the offending (but not offensive in the least) appendage and up to his face. His eyes are trained on me, a heat in his that spreads over my entire body, making it feel like it is lit up in flames.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he winks so slowly it makes me wonder if life is moving in slow motion. It isn’t cocky; it isn’t sleazy. It’s James, and it’s perfect. That simple wink makes my stomach flutter, and I have to reach out my hand to grip the back of the kitchen chair to steady myself.

He slowly makes his way over to where I’m standing and reaches out a hand. I take a deep breath as the back of his hand grazes my temple. His fingers make a trail down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder, down my arm until his pinky is laced with mine. His other hand reaches up and, with what feels like a move straight out of a book, tucks a piece of hair behind my ear then circles his hand around my neck. He leans in, and my eyes flutter closed. Two minutes ago, I was about to come out of my skin from nerves because of my past. Now I am about to come out of my skin for a whole different reason. James Cole makes me feel like a Yo-Yo being pulled on a string and spinning in circles.

His nose skims mine, moving slowly over my cheek until his face is buried in my neck. He inhales, causing goose bumps to come to life over my entire body. I take a shuddering breath before he moves, and soon his lips are on mine. Hot, demanding.

His movements just moments ago were slow, calculated.

Now he’s all passion.

The hand on my neck squeezes once, twice, then puts just enough pressure so that he can tilt my mouth to meet his the way he apparently wants. The way we both need.

The hand that was once only holding my pinky now has my hand pinned behind my back with his still laced through. A brief moment of panic hits before I remember who is holding me.

The kiss deepens, our tongues dancing and demanding of each other. I moan so quietly I am positive he didn’t hear. I pray he didn’t hear. But James, being James, so in tune with me, so perceptive, hears it and jumps on it. The second the moan escapes my lips I know I am in this more than I have been letting on, and somehow James knows it too. It’s as if that tiny little noise emitting from the back of my throat is the go-ahead we both need. The noise that I can no longer control, can no longer hold back, triggers a lust so deep inside both of us that we don’t have any semblance of control anymore.

He moves his hands and lifts me so my legs wrap around his waist. Suddenly, we’re on the move, my entire body feeling like it will take flight if he doesn’t have a good hold of me. My back hits the refrigerator, his strong body presses against mine, rough and demanding. No longer am I ready to take flight. The shift is like a bucket of ice water being dumped right on me.

I tear my mouth from his, hitting my head on the fridge door, but the pain in my head is nothing compared to the panic that hit the moment he pressed me against that surface. Memories come screeching to a halt in the front of my mind, not being able to control the waves of nervousness rolling off me.

“Carly?” James asks, concern evident as he gently lets my body slide down and takes a tentative step backward.

I look down at my hands that are now twisting together in front of my stomach. I know he has to be confused. And turned on. I felt how turned on he is. It only fueled my own desire. Until it didn’t.

He reaches up and carefully takes my chin between his fingers and thumb and lifts so that we’re looking into each other’s eyes. The unshed tears are now on full display.

I feel so stupid.

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