Page 116 of A Better Place

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

James

The things that Carly end up getting herself into never cease to amaze me anymore. She always seems to find herself in the craziest of predicaments but it is part of her charm. Part of what I am falling for. Have already fallen for. When I got to her house, she’s standing on the front porch of her craftsman-style home, tennis racket in hand, and… yup, Jack’s football helmet on her head. That bears repeating.

Jack’s.

Football.

Helmet.

On.

Her.

Head.

So maybe she got the bird flu and lost her mind while she was waiting the five minutes it took for me to get here. I decided to just leave everything as it was. I had better and far more important things to worry about. Like getting to my girl. It took me all of five minutes to climb into my Jeep and make my way to her house from the restaurant.

“What’s up, buttercup?” I call out to her, smiling as I shut the driver’s side door.

She shakes her head and shrugs her tiny little shoulders. “I got freaked out. What if they get out and start flying around in the house?”

I don’t even try to hold back my laugher as I make my way to her front step. “Were they going to break through the glass or use their little wings to open the latch and escape?”

“Have you seen Looney Tunes? Animals are crafty and resourceful!” she argues.

“I’ll remember that the next time a roadrunner escapes the Acme bomb a coyote planted.”

I step up next to her and lift the helmet so it’s angled back on her head. “Hi,” I tell her and kiss her square on the lips.

I pull away but she’s still reaching for more, so she stumbles forward a little bit. I catch her as she falls toward me, and she smiles.

“Hi,” she says.

I pull the helmet back down and tap the top of her head, and she laughs.

“Looks like you’re all prepared for taking down the eagle that must have landed in your chimney?”

“I’m ready. Let’s get ‘em,” she says as she throws a fist in the air and turns around to move toward the house like she’s marching into battle, completely ignoring my dig about the size of birds we will surely find.

I chuckle and shake my head, following her into her house. My gaze inadvertently takes in her ass. How can I resist? Tight black yoga pants, light purple long-sleeve t-shirt, and a pair of socks that look like they’re covered in unicorns and rainbows? Adorable.

“Nice socks.”

“Right? It’s like I’m a ray of frickin’ sunshine when I wear them!”

“I don’t even have the right words to reply to that.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she sing-songs.

I stop dead, knowing I need to tell her about my visitor.

“Carly?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh, I need to tell you something before we tackle the birds.”

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