Love Me: The Complete Series (9 page)

“What? Someone should say it.” David rubbed his shoulder. “Shit, you didn’t have to punch me, asshole.”

“Say what?” Carter asked.

Garth lifted his phone. “Yikes, David, we need to get back. All hell is breaking loose at work.” He pushed hard against David, almost sending him to the floor.

“Hey! Let me finish.”

“No time. Move it.”

Carter blinked and stared after his two friends as they all but ran from the restaurant. “What the hell was that about?”

Roger slid from the booth and moved to the other side, opposite Carter. “No idea.” He shook his head and stood as soon as the chick with the camera rose from her spot behind Carter and went for a refill. He pointed at Carter’s cup. “Want more?”

“I’m fine.”

It took Rog a full five minutes to fill his cup, add a bunch of sugar, and get a straw—which he normally never bothered to use. All the while, he hovered next to the spiked hair woman. When she placed a lid on hers and headed for the door, he finally returned. For some reason, the entire dance the two had just played reminded Carter of hanging out at the park hoping to run into Abby. Why hadn’t he just talked to her? It would have saved him the past three months with Amanda. Maybe.

“Take a picture next time,” he told Roger. “Then you can stare at it all you want. She probably thought you were stalking her.”

He shrugged. “Hey, she’s cute. I think I know her, not sure.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I said I wasn’t sure. Hair’s different. Say what exactly? You look just like someone I used to know—that’s a great line. Or maybe, I’m a tea guy, how about you? Or sooo, you hang out here often? What about—hey, that’s a cute cup you’re holding?”

“Anything’s better than nothing. Just curious, Roger, were hers real?”

“Huh? What? Oh, I-I don’t know, I wasn’t looking.” Roger’s face turned the color of a stop sign. “Hey, aren’t you going to Bangkok next week to work on that contract for the sports equipment guys?”

Carter nodded. Good change of subject.

• • •

Abby was with customers when Caroline rushed in from lunch and dropped a bag of food beside her purse. She had little opportunity to eat for another hour and even then, more customers were out front with Caroline. Between the two of them, they barely spoke until the end of day. Caroline said the luncheon outing wasn’t a big deal and she’d left because one of the guys was leering at her. It gave her the heebie-jeebies.

Abby wanted to pry Caroline with questions, but that would be desperate, which she certainly was not. In fact, she hadn’t cared one way or the other if Carter and his friends thought any part of her anatomy wasn’t real. It was ridiculous. Nor was she concerned whether Carter actually said anything about her. He was still on the rebound, and rebounders were a bad bet.

Carter braced for takeoff and closed his eyes. Flying was a ritual, or so he told himself. He’d been on a number of airplanes as the business grew. No matter where he sat or how big the plane, he was borderline claustrophobic the moment he clicked the belt around his hips.

He mentally voiced the numerous things he always did—thankfulness for his fortune, blessings for his friends and family, and promises to be his best self. Just in case he crashed and met his maker. If any of the guys he hung around knew what went through his head on a plane, they’d label him a sap for sure. Still, it had worked for him thus far; he had no intention of switching gears and breaking the good fortune and smooth flights. A small part of him believed karma was a good thing. Or at least nothing to mess with.

When the plane leveled off at full altitude, he pulled his laptop from below the seat and read through his presentation. The company had put him in charge of this venture and, with their new confidence, it was critical he prepare adequately. This was a contact Jackson knew and he was counting on that to be a good referral. They needed this contract if they were going to stay on target and minimize their production costs.

He’d called Jackson twice to discuss the project and gave up. As a last resort, he sent Jackson a quick text to let him know about the meeting, half-hoping he’d join him on the trip. No answer. Not like the guy.

A week and a half later, he reversed his flight routine and headed home. His laptop was filled with notes, copies of building plans and designs, and the longest to-do list he’d managed since starting his job six months earlier. He was exhausted and Jackson had been a no-show. It would have been irritating as hell if he hadn’t been too busy to think about it.

The ten-hour flight managed to satisfy his need for sleep but had done nothing to rest his mind. Swirling thoughts of work made him anxious. As the plane taxied to the gate, it dawned on him he’d thought of little else the entire trip. Not a single time had his mind wandered to Amanda or their breakup.

Then he passed the airport florist on the way to his car and he realized his thoughts
had
been on a woman. Or maybe not his thoughts, but his dreams. Only the woman was surrounded by flowers and ribbon, and she’d done some pretty crazy things with them.

Abby.

Once he reached home, he checked his watch then dialed Information. With the number in his phone, he dialed Jeffries Florist. The minute she spoke, he felt the smile behind the words.

He grabbed an apple from his backpack, took a bite, and spoke as he chewed. “I’d like to voice a complaint.”

“Oh, no! Whatever it is, we’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You promise?” He swallowed the apple and grinned.

“Of course. How can we make it better?”

“Well, I was in there a couple of weeks ago and bought some plants from this girl. Nice looking, good salesperson—but real bossy.”

Did she just suck in air? “Carter?”

He laughed. “Yeah, how’s things, Abby?”

“So, you’re not really complaining?”

“Well, I do kind of have a problem.” He glanced at the brown leaves drooping on the philodendron. “I’ve been on a business trip for a while and one of the plants is losing all its leaves. I watered it before I left but I think I killed it.”

“Which one?”

He told her and she proceeded to tell him it would perk back up with water.

“Perk—okay, sounds good. Hey, did you ever get a chance to meet that blind date?” He rolled the apple, seeking for a good spot to bite again.

“Um, sort of.” She quickly changed the subject. “I heard Maddie got her boot off and is walking now. I don’t need to worry about you losing control again, do I?”

Hmmm. Losing control. He wasn’t sure how to answer. He grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filled it, and doused his molting plant. “You mean with Ruckus?”

“Of course, what did you think I meant?”

“No idea. Listen, I was actually calling about business.” The thought popped into his head mere seconds before he spoke, but it was still good.

“Yours or mine?”

“Um, both. We moved into our building less than a year ago and it’s pretty empty. I wondered if you guys did corporate plant maintenance?”

“You mean watering, pruning, and all that?”

“Yeah. We need to spruce it up. So, do you?”

Seconds ticked as she considered his question. “Of course, but I’d need to come by and look at the space and give you an estimate. We’d have to charge for delivery, but other than that and the monthly care fee, it would be hands-free. No way you could kill them.”

“Great. Come by tomorrow at eleven.” He rattled off the street address and told her where to go once inside. “Oh, Abby—you can tell me about the loser blind date then too. Over lunch.”

He clicked the phone off before she could refuse and headed to the fridge for a beer. He’d completely forgotten to mention the baseball tickets and ask if she’d go. Again.

Carter figured that would get Jackson’s attention. He didn’t understand it. The guy had seemed more than willing to take the tickets off his hands when Amanda dumped him, but then he just disappeared. Carter had called him also, but it went straight to an automated voice mail. If not for the texting responses, Carter would have thought he was hurt—or something else was wrong. He frowned and pecked in a few more words.

He waited a full five minutes.

That would just make a fool of u, not me

Should I tell ur boss you took a picture of her changing clothes in the car for yoga?

Carter expected a smartass response, but nothing came. At all. He still had no idea about the tickets.

The blinking icon on his screen reminded him that it’d been a while since he’d looked at the Justchat application, not that he had time for any chatting with his crazy schedule. Still, he should at least respond if there was a message. He tapped the open key.

For a living? Own my own business. Just getting started and it’s a little scary.

Impressive. He keyed in a response.

Yeah, it sounded a little too preachy but she obviously needed a little encouragement. The pop-up surprised him with an instant response.

Carter chuckled, mainly because he should probably do the same. He clicked in a short answer.

He watched the screen till a response popped up.

Not sure why I couldn’t force myself to take the safe road—life would have been a lot less complicated
.

Yeah, well, complications happen regardless. He shrugged. When the office phone blared, he jolted. The receptionist announced Abby’s arrival. He thrust his phone into his pocket, grabbed his keys, and headed to the lobby.

She had her hair pulled into a ponytail and some silver hoops dangled from her ears. Was she wearing lipstick? Her lips were a little full anyway, but that was certainly … attention grabbing.

She met him halfway across the floor and reached a hand out to shake his. Fingernail polish, a skirt, and—heels. He flicked a glance at the tight lines of muscles just above her knees. It was a paradox. A damn teaser how her legs could be so toned from running yet he knew the skin to be soft, not hard. Or at least the skin on her face and arms, what little he’d touched.

Damn if there wasn’t a perverted desire to skip the office tour and get her out of the office. Alone. Would it terrify her?

“You look good.” It was the only thing he could think of because, for some stupid reason, he’d lost his voice and just stared like an idiot.

“Thanks.” She grinned. “It took twenty minutes to scrub the dirt from my fingernails. I finally gave up and just painted them.” She held up five digits and wiggled them in his face. Was that why she always wore nail polish?

The receptionist watched with a dark scowl. Carter put a hand to Abby’s back and pressed her toward the elevator, speaking loud enough to calm curious ears. “Okay, let’s take the tour. We have about twenty areas I thought could use something. We’re not touching the individual offices. Just the community spaces and meeting rooms. The lobby you saw. The rest is this way.”

When the elevator doors closed, she turned toward him. “You know the person who greets visitors sets the tone for your business. It’s the first impression one gets.”

He lifted a brow and leaned against the wall. “What are you trying to say?” He stared at the red polish as she pushed a loose hair back from her face.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Maybe she was just having a bad day.”

Badeep deep.

The noise came from her phone and she reached in her purse, shuffled around, then turned as the elevator opened. “Sorry about that. I turned it off.”

“You can answer it if you need to. It might be business.”

“No, Caroline’s taking care of things. No one would call me. Show me.” She held those shiny nails out and gestured him to lead the way. Which, for some reason, sent heat straight to parts of him that wanted those nails anywhere and everywhere
but
the public meeting rooms of his office.

He led her down the hall to the first room, the employee kitchen and lounge. Thankfully it was empty. The minute the door clicked behind them, he snagged her fingers and held the nails up for inspection. He turned the thin fingers in his and watched as her eyes flared.

She bit into her lip and the lipstick seemed to—beckon.

“I like it. The red. It suits you. Cheerful.” It was a stupid thing to say but hell, if he didn’t say something, he was going to
do
something really stupid. Their eyes locked. Oh, hell, why not. He reached out and slid his fingers behind her head, wrapping the ponytail between his thumb and fingers. He yanked her close and dropped his mouth on the lips that had him tied in knots the minute she walked in.
Holy shit.
She tasted like apples. And sin. Or maybe heaven. He wasn’t sure because as soon as their lips touched, she opened up and stroked her tongue against his.

It shocked him and turned him on instantly.