her head on his shoulder as his blood pounded in his ears.
“Wow,” she said.
Wow. Was that good? He had a feeling as quick as he was, he might not have given his best showing, but he was tired and he’d had that feeling all day that he might never have all he wanted from her.
“That good?” he asked gruffly.
“Yeah. I had no idea... My sexual experience isn’t as diverse as yours. I mean, mission-style, lights off is my usual thing.” He would’ve laughed if he’d thought that was what she wanted from him. “We’ve had the lights on every time.”
“Yes we have. You make me feel so comfortable in my skin,” she murmured. “Other guys seemed to just...”
Jealousy shot through him. The last thing he wanted to talk about were other guys she’d been with. But he was glad she felt comfortable around him. “I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.”
“Me, too. So what now? I invited you back here so I wouldn’t have to feel awkward and wonder if I should leave, but to be honest, I still feel weird.”
He shook his head. Lindsey was never going to react the way he thought she would. She surprised him yet again, but really that was proving to just be her way. “I’ll take that hot drink you offered, and then we can figure out what to do—or I can leave.” Turning toward her, he slowly searched her face. “What do you want?”
She hesitated, and at that moment he knew she was going to send him on his way. Disappointment churned inside him, but he kept his game face on. “Okay. Let me clean up and then I’ll head out.”
Lindsey stood. She smelled of sex and regret, he thought. But then she offered him her hand. “Silly boy. I’m not done with you yet.”
He took her hand and got to his feet, making sure his body brushed against hers. Felt her shiver, saw her lick her lips. God, was he really willing to be her boy toy? Because that was how this felt.
“A hot bath would be perfect after all that playing, but my tub is smallish. What do you say to sharing a shower?”
“I say hells to the yeah.”
“Good. That’s one of the things I meant to put on my resolutions list from last night,” she said.
“I actually have it right here,” he told her, bending to pick up his pants and pull out the card he’d shoved in there before he’d left his hotel room.
She reached out to take it from him. “I have a lot of blanks.”
“So do I,” he admitted ruefully. But in his mind he’d already started filling them in.
“Shower first, and then we can fill them in together and order pizza because I’m hungry. Then you can head home. Is that okay?” she asked after a moment.
He nodded. “It’s your show, lady.”
“It is?” She blew out a breath, biting down on her lush lower lip. “It’s not easy to believe that. I’m totally winging it here.”
“So am I. This is different for me, too.”
She took his resolution card from him and glanced down at it, wrinkling her brow as she read the few words he’d jotted down.
Crap. He wasn’t good with words or spelling. He had dyslexia, which was something he didn’t share with the world. And something he certainly hoped she hadn’t picked up on. He’d brought her list because he wanted to know what she expected from her year.
He should have left his at home.
But there was no point in worrying about that now. He scooped her up in his arms. Taking the stairs two at a time, he paused on the landing. “Which way?”
“Second door on the right,” she said. Nodding, he carried her into her room. This space seemed more like Lindsey—there was a bright floral-patterned comforter and a large stack of pillows at the head of the bed. The walls had been painted a pale blue color that reminded him of the reflection of the snow and sky first thing in the morning. He saw her medals hanging on the wall under a photo of her with the president.
Carter set her on her feet, and she put the cards on her dark-finished, solid-oak dresser as she led the way to her bathroom. She bent to get some towels from the cabinet, and he realized that there was something about Lindsey that would always leave him wanting more. That being here with her now wasn’t doing anything but making him crave her more intensely.
He wondered if he’d ever get his fill of her, but then she turned, held her hand out to him, and he stopped thinking and questioning. At least for now, he was exactly where he needed to be.
IT’S A BAD IDEA. She knew she had to say it as soon as they were done eating the pizza they’d ordered. They weren’t going to be a couple or start dating. She was a mess and he had to know it.
But she liked him. He was fun and he made her feel as though she was a fun person, too. Except that she was also acutely aware that she wasn’t really the woman she acted like around him.
She’d had more sex in the past twenty-four hours than she’d had in the previous ten years; which was both great and confusing. She couldn’t keep the compartments she needed Carter to stay in straight in her mind.
“Stay or hit?” he asked.
They were playing poker...well, blackjack or twenty-one, at her kitchen table. She wore her flannel pajamas and Carter had on just his boxer briefs. It felt intimate and cozy and would be if she’d just let it be. But she couldn’t.
She glanced at her cards, trying to recall the rule that Carter had shared with her for taking cards. She had an eight and a three. She needed twenty-one and had eleven. Seemed pretty safe for a hit.
“Hit.”
He turned a card up in front of her. Ace.
“Damn.”
He laughed. “I’m guessing you want to stay?”
She shook her head. Had she given the game away? She hated to lose, so she needed to pay better attention, but the truth was Carter was a distraction with his naked chest and tattoos sitting across from her. The light from the kitchen shone down on him, his face hidden by the shadows cast on him.
“No,” she said. No guts, no glory had always been her motto. “Hit.”
He gave her another card. It was a seven. A nice, safe little seven card that kept her from going over twenty-one.
“Stay.”
“Think you can beat me?”
He had a face card showing, so chances were he might have a twenty but... What? She’d just said no guts... “You bet I do.”
He took a card and got another face card.
“Ooh,
