Page 71 of Betting on the Bad Boy
Second, because there was no way in hell I was ever going to be the kind of girl Carter wanted and needed in his life. He was a good guy. A little too evangelical for my taste, but he would make some modest, virginal woman a wonderful, devoted, and loving husband someday. Everyone assumed I’d fit the bill. How could they not? I’d never done anything to show them otherwise.
I’d followed along with my mom and Clem, like a little lamb being led by the almighty shepherd. But that wasn’t who I was. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not Carter, Clem, or especially my mother. But this whole setup with Carter had gone too far.
What would they think if I told them about the books I’d written? And how would I ever explain the arrangement I’d proposed with Dante? Would my mother and Clem ever willingly welcome the illegitimate bartender into their fold?
The car slowed, and Carter entered the security code at the gate. A few turns later, he pulled into the long driveway and stopped the car. He walked around and opened my door, then followed me to the portico.
He paused before the stone steps leading onto the front porch. “I’m really sorry about the way this evening went.”
I patted his arm. “It’s okay. I had a good time.”
“No.” He wrapped his hand around mine. “I embarrassed myself and you. And now we’re out of time. You head back soon, and I’ve missed my chance.”
“Carter, I?—”
My words were muffled as he drew me against his chest. “I won’t ask for a kiss, Faith. I don’t deserve one after the way I behaved tonight.” His hand stroked my hair. “I think you’ll come around. I’m a patient man. I’ll be waiting.” He pulled away and kissed the top of my head.
I stood motionless on the step as he walked back to the car and ducked inside. As he backed down the driveway, he lowered the window and waved. Stunned, I lifted my hand in response, then turned and slipped through the front door.
Wait a minute. He’d be waiting? Waiting for what? As the realization of Carter’s intentions sank in, I staggered against the door and leaned into it for support. Unless I’d completely misunderstood, he seemed to think we’d made some kind of commitment to each other.
CHAPTER 36
Dante
I pulledinto the parking lot in front of Tapped and killed the engine. It was good to be home. The stress of not knowing what was going on with Meemaw had clawed at me all week. I’d made sure she was settled in and arranged for her friends to check in on her several times a day for the next few weeks.
What was I going to do if an offer from a division out east finally came? If I landed one of those jobs, it would mean up to ninety percent travel. I could never put her in a home. Not only would she flat out refuse to go, it would squash her spirit. I sighed and raked my hands through my hair, wishing I had someone to talk to about my problems.
As I climbed the steps to my apartment, I thought about Faith. I’d found myself thinking about her a lot over break. Too much, in fact. She’d gotten under my skin, burrowed in like some fucking wood tick or something.
If I wasn’t careful, she’d suck the life force right out of me. I needed to focus on my job and my mentorship to secure that damn letter of recommendation. A transfer out east to a bigger division and a higher-paying job would guarantee my and Meemaw’s future. I’d just have to figure out a way to convinceMeemaw to come with me if the job panned out, and I damn well wasn’t going to let my fuck buddy get in the way of that.
That wasn’t fair. She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want anything to do with me besides the free use of my body. It was my problem I was starting to let her get to me. Should I pull the plug on our arrangement before it even really began?
I opened the door to my apartment and flipped on the lights. The cushions on the couch sat askew. I hadn’t fixed them after that night we’d reinstated her crazy sex-only plan. I dropped my bag on the floor and set my keys on the counter, then slid my coat off and walked over to the couch. Grabbing a cushion from the floor, I held it up to my face. The faint scent of her shampoo teased my nose, and I took a deep inhale.
I was turning into Wyatt. Grunting, I tossed the cushion back onto the couch and exited my apartment.
Less than a minute later, I’d claimed a stool at the bar and watched as Oliver attempted to switch out a keg under the counter.
“Need some help with that?” I asked.
“Nah, bro. The fuckin’ hose is just givin’ me a bit of trouble. She’ll be right in no time.”
I smiled and shook my head. Hiring Oliver might prove to be a mistake; even after a few weeks, I could barely understand him. The girls seemed to like him, though. And Wyatt was a big fan of anything that brought more girls into the bar. More girls meant more guys, and more guys meant we’d sell more beer.
Oliver wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed a pint glass. “So, what’ll it be, mate?”
“How about a Honeyweiss?” Damn, that’s what Faith always ordered.
“Right. Sweet-as.”
“Sweet as what?” I asked.
“Aw, nothing, just sweet-as. You know, like cool.”
“Whatever, dude.”
