Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) (20 page)

Actually, the thought of any man other than Trace—even one who wasn’t a weasel like Derek—touching me or kissing me or seeing me naked was unimaginable to me now. And, as excited as I was for Trace to come over tonight and “continue what we started,” I was equally as terrified at what would happen to me when we finished what we’d started and I was watching
his
retreating form metaphorically walk out of my life.

That morning, on my way to work, as I’d sat on the train and watched the scenery go by, I’d made a list of ground rules that would need to be implemented if we were going to continue this affair, in hopes of guarding my heart and mind. But, in the back of my mind, I had to face the very real possibility that, even if he agreed to everything on the list, I was still headed straight towards heartache.

I had to decide if being with Trace was worth the inevitable fall that would follow. Even as the question formed in my mind, the answer was undeniable. Yes. Being
with
Trace was worth it all.

All the pleasure. All the pain. All the joy. All the heartache.

Trace

“Never miss a good chance to shut up.”

~ Dolly Briggs

I
splashed cold
water onto my face and vigorously shook my head. All my life, I had thought that sleep was highly overrated, but I was quickly discovering that it was a necessity. Earlier that morning, I’d fallen asleep during a call with a potential new buyer, and that afternoon, I had zoned out while helping Travis repair the east pasture fencing. My momentary lapse of concentration almost ended in several goats making the great escape.

Maybe I was getting old, because in my glory days, I could have pulled several all-nighters in a row and been right as rain. That apparently was not the case anymore, and I was paying for my sleepless night. Not that I regretted it. Last night had been the best night of my life.

I might not have slept a wink, but I’d felt more at peace than I could ever remember feeling. Holding Cara snuggled to my side all night had been better than my wildest dreams come true. Watching her peacefully sleep, my arms wrapped around her, had cemented a suspicion I’d been harboring since I could remember: she belonged with me. As I’d stared at her, one word kept running through my mind.

Mine
.

I grabbed a clean towel off the guest bathroom countertop and scrubbed it over my face. A glance in the oval mirror above the sink reminded me that I hadn’t shaved this morning. I’d skipped my normal morning routine because I’d wanted to spend every second I could holding Cara in my arms, letting her get the rest she needed.

Thankfully, I’d been able to slip out from under her without waking her. There was a running joke in my family that I was a ninja because I had a habit of sneaking up on people without their knowing and being able to get in and out of places without being detected. That trait had come in handy that morning.

There was one moment when I’d thought my ninja status might’ve been in danger of being revoked, because I was pretty sure I’d woken her up after I’d put a note on the pillow I’d just vacated. I’d glanced at the sleeping beauty I had been about to leave, unable to resist kissing her on her forehead. She’d stirred briefly but then settled right back to sleep.

As I headed into the guest room to get dressed so I could go meet Cara, a smile spread across my face. Last night had been amazing, and although I wasn’t sure what the night had in store, just the fact that I was seeing her was enough to have me whistling as I pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

After stepping into my boots, I was out the front door of the main house and on my way to Cara’s. I’d officially been off the clock for less than ten minutes. It had only taken me a record five to shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed. Any trace of the effects of lost sleep evaporated and adrenaline took its place, making my strides even faster.

I took the steps of Cara’s porch two at a time, and as I knocked on her door, my heart started pounding.

“Come in,” she called out.

My pounding heart expanded. Just hearing her voice caused a physical and emotional reaction in me.

When I stepped inside, the delicious smell of tomato sauce and garlic hit me. Cara peeked her head around the wall that separated the kitchen from the front room.

“I’m making spaghetti,” she said. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s great!” I shut the door behind me, and as I rounded the corner, my pounding, expanded heart slammed against my chest.

Damn.
This girl was going to be the death of me.

Cara was standing at the stove, her back to me, in cut-off shorts and a tank top. Her hair was still wet, like she’d just gotten out of the shower, which had all kinds of visions a lot more X-rated than sugarplums dancing in my head.

“I missed you.” The words shot out of my mouth like a cannon as I stared at her. I hadn’t meant to tell her that, and I hadn’t even known how true that statement was until I’d heard it out loud.

I
had
missed her. All day.

She glanced over her shoulder, a shy grin lifting on her clean face. “You just saw me last night.”

Actually, it had been ten hours and fourteen minutes since I’d snuck out of her bed to go to work, but that observation might have freaked her out. So I kept it to myself.

“Well, you’re very missable.” I stepped behind her and rested my hands on her hips as she stirred the sauce, incapable of waiting one more second to touch her, to kiss her. Nuzzling against her neck, I brushed my lips over her skin as I continued, “And kissable.”

She giggled and wiggled her hips against my hardening-by-the-second dick. I’d spent the night with her mostly naked body draped over mine after some serious foreplay the man downstairs had been sure going to lead to release. It hadn’t. But the pain and discomfort had been worth it. I would have happily walked around with a permanent hard-on if it meant spending the night with Cara’s panty-clad body covering mine.

“It’s ready,” she announced breathlessly as a timer dinged.

I retreated, giving her the space she needed to pull the garlic bread out of the oven. We worked together like a well-oiled machine, putting food in dishes and carrying them to the table. Cara talked a mile a minute, telling me about a story she’d turned in to her editor today, which was fashion-related. I was only half listening since most of the blood that normally took up residence in my brain had migrated to the southern region of my body.

We sat at her kitchen table and filled our plates. I waited for her to take a breath so I could tell her how beautiful she looked. This conversation was the verbal version of Frogger and I was waiting for a break in traffic to cross the street. That opportunity did not present itself before she’d uttered the words no guy wanted to hear.

“We need to talk.”

I lifted my gaze from my fork, spinning my noodles around in a circle. Her sapphire eyes were brimmed with anxiety, and the rambling she’d been doing was really because she was nervous.

“What’s wrong?” I wasn’t sure how we’d gone from whether or not skinny jeans were still in style to “we need to talk,” but now, I was all ears.

“Nothing…” Her voice wavered as her gaze shot down to her plate and she pushed her food around. “I just think that, if we are going to do
this
, we need to talk. You know, work out some…ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” I repeated slowly.

“Yeah. So we’re both on the same page. So we know what to expect.”

Confusion swam in my head like sharks in a tank filled with chum. Was she talking about our physical limits, like safe words? That didn’t make any sense, considering she was a virgin.

When I didn’t respond, she lifted her hands.

“Like, first, I think we should establish if this is just a one-night thing—”

“No,” I cut in. There was no way in hell once would be enough. In fact, I was pretty sure I would never get enough of Cara, but the last thing I wanted to do was go too fast and push her too hard for something she wasn’t ready for.

Cara’s eyes widened. The corners of her lips turned up, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she dipped her head. She did that when she was nervous, but I’d also noticed last night she did the same thing when she was shy about something. If I had been a betting man, I would have put my money on the latter.

“Okay… Um….okay. See? That’s what I mean.” She licked her lips, and my perma-erection jerked beneath my zipper. “We should have ground rules.”

My phone buzzed, but I ignored it. Nothing was more important than this conversation. So, instead of reaching in my pocket for my phone, I grabbed my large tumbler of ice water.

“All right. So, what other
ground rules
are you thinking about?”

Before I finished my question, another vibration sounded.

“Aren’t you going to check that?” she asked.

“No.” It was probably one of my brothers and they could wait.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she dropped it and returned to our ground rules conversation. “The only way this can happen is if no one knows. This town is just too small, and not only do I not feel like being the center of the gossip arena, but I also don’t want people…you know…getting the wrong idea…about us.”

“What’s the wrong idea?”

“You know. That we’re a, you know”—she lifted her hands in the air—“a
real
couple.”

“A real couple?” I deadpanned.

“Yes.” She sat up straighter, determination radiating off her. “I don’t want a relationship. You don’t do relationships. You and I both know what is going on between us, and honestly, it’s no one else’s business.”

“Even Harmony and Destiny?” From what I’d observed, the three amigos—or Charlie’s Angels, as they liked to refer to themselves—didn’t really have too many secrets from each other.

“Especially Harmony and Destiny!” she exclaimed.

I tried to comprehend how I felt about her being so insistent about keeping us a secret. Every other girl I’d dated, even casually, had wanted everyone and their brother to know we were seeing each other. They would post it on social media and tell anyone who would listen.

My reaction must have shown on my face, because Cara softened her tone as she explained, “All my life, people have known a lot more about my personal life than I wanted. This is just for me. I don’t want to share this, share
you
, with anyone.”

Well, shit. When she put it like that, how the hell was I supposed to argue?

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again.

“Just check it.” She smiled encouragingly.

With a sigh, I pulled the device out of my pocket. I had two texts and a voicemail from Lizzy. Great.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Lizzy wants to hang out.” I turned my phone towards her so she could read the messages.

Instead of doing what any other girl would have and taking my phone so that she could see for herself, she kept her eyes trained on mine. “You can go if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice sounded much harsher than I’d meant it to. Hoping to smooth over my reaction, I grinned. “This is the only place I want to be. So, unless you kick my ass out, you’re stuck with me.”

“Okay.” She shrugged her left shoulder as if she weren’t completely convinced.

I turned off my phone and silence hung between us as we ate. I tried to read what was going on in her head, but I couldn’t.

Finally, I asked, “So, are those the only ground rules? Not a one-time thing and, like Vegas, what happens between us stays between us?”

She pursed her lips for a moment before blurting out, “One more thing. As long as we’re doing whatever we’re doing, I think we shouldn’t be doing that with other people.”

She looked at me with unsure eyes as she waited for my response. It boggled my mind that this girl really had no idea what she meant to me. That would be remedied soon.

“Are you proposing a monogamous affair, Miss McCord?”

One of my favorite blushes crept up on the fair skin of her cheek as she nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. Because I don’t share,” I stated huskily.

A smile broke out on her face as she tucked her hair behind her ear. We spent the rest of dinner talking about work, our friends, movies, and music. The whole time, I kept thinking,
This is it. This is what I want for the rest of my life. Spending nights exactly like this. Coming home to Cara, making her laugh, smile, and blush. This is exactly where I belong.

Cara

“Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.”

~ Dolly Briggs

A
s I rested
my head on Trace’s shoulder while he slept, I seized the opportunity to study his profile. Long, dark lashes outlined his closed eyes. His jaw line was sprinkled with just the right amount of stubble that had my hands itching to touch him. His full lips were slightly parted as he breathed in and out evenly. He looked so peaceful. So perfect.

When Trace had suggested a hangout session after dinner, I’d been equal parts disappointed, relieved, scared to death, and giddy as a school girl. If my emotional state had been a pie, it would have been split in four identical servings.

The slice of disappointment was mixed with the fact that, all day, I’d been wound so tight that I was sure I would have come apart after one touch from him. So, when Trace suggested watching TV and changed our sex forecast from possible virginity loss with a ninety-nine percent chance of orgasm to heavy snuggling, I couldn’t help but feel the loss.

On the flip side of the pie, my slice of relief’s ingredients included two cups of at-least-I-won’t-embarrass-myself mixed with three teaspoons of he’s-not-going-to-see-me-naked. As much as I wanted to no longer be a virgin, now that the possibility was not abstract, it was more overwhelming and emotional than I’d expected.

Next to relief was the helping of scared-to-death, which was baked with the fact that, since I was a little girl, I’d dreamed of
this
night. Exactly. Trace coming home from work. Me making dinner. Us snuggling on the couch and watching TV. Once I’d gotten sick, I was sure that was all it would ever be: a dream. But I was living it, and now that I was, I was afraid of what would happen when he wasn’t coming through my door, kissing my neck while I cooked, or smiling his bad-boy grin as he teased me about how cute I looked eating spaghetti. Now that my dream was a reality, what would happen when things went back to normal?