Page 90 of No More Secrets
“What?” She leaned back, looked up.
“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.” Carter brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I love you, Summer. I’ve loved you almost as long as I’ve known you. I loved you even before you let me put my hands on you.”
“You love me?”
“Baby. How could I not? You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.” He wrapped his arms around her, snugging her head against his chest.
They rocked, side to side, in the candlelight and Summer listened to the strong, slow beat of a heart that loved her.
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Saturday morning Summer yawned mightily and snuggled deeper into her pillow.
“Oh, no you don’t.” The bed sank as Carter sat on the edge. “Open your eyes.”
“Mm,” Summer muttered in the very comfortable pillow.
Carter slapped her on the butt and she rolled over lazily. “Why are you torturing me awake at ...” she squinted at the bedside clock. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
It was after eight. She needed to take her pills.
“Here.” Carter took her hand and dumped three capsules and a tablet into it.
She stared down at them, panic rising in her chest.
He handed her a glass of water.
She kept her gaze down as she washed down the pills.
“You slept through the alert on your phone, so I followed the instructions on it. You’re very thorough.”
Summer was still silent. He couldn’t know. Not after last night. He said he loved her. She wanted to hang on to that as long as possible. Maybe it was selfish of her, but if love turned into obligation and worry it would ruin what they found together.
She needed just a few more weeks.
“Hey.” Carter put his hand over the fist she had balled in the comforter. “You can tell me when you’re ready, okay?”
Summer let out the breath she had been holding. She risked a look at his face.
Those serious gray eyes studied her. Hair tousled from sleep. He wore his Pierce Acres t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. The body of a warrior and the face of an angel. And he was hers. She could tell him and he would do what he thought was the right thing. He would stick. But she wanted more. Didn’t she deserve more than a sense of obligation? Didn’t he deserve more than an iffy future?
“Can I buy you breakfast?” she asked.
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It was closer to brunch by the time Summer finished getting ready. Sex hair was much harder to tame than regular bed head. And walking out the door in the city was a different story than in Blue Moon. She could probably walk into Overly Caffeinated or OJ’s in pajama pants and no one would blink.
But go out in last season’s “it” shirt here and she’d be labeled immediately.
Over the commotion in her head Summer had managed to pull herself and an outfit together and made herself Manhattan-brunch presentable.
Carter was sprawled on the couch in gray shorts and a tight black polo.
“Have you starved to death, yet?” Summer asked.
“I ate one of your throw pillows to take the edge off.” Carter sat up. “Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him, but when she got there he pulled her into his lap.
“Are you going to let things get weird because of last night?” he asked, resting his chin on her head.
