Sculpting Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 2) (25 page)

He couldn't hold the sad expression for more than a couple seconds. "Fine, fine, I'm ordering!" he insisted, placing the phone up against his ear.

The pizza arrived in short order, and Carter wrapped a towel around his muscled hips long enough to go downstairs and collect it from the delivery boy. I took advantage of his momentary absence to throw myself down on his newly vacated spot in bed, doing my best to soak up all the residual warmth that he left behind.

"Hey now, taking my spot?" Carter exclaimed when he returned, now accompanied by the delicious smell of hot, fresh pizza (and garlic bread sticks, at my insistence - I'd just burned a lot of calories, and I needed to make them up!). "Give it up!"

"Only if you give up some pizza!" I answered, rolling over to let him in.

We devoured the pizza in bed, Carter not even caring when I dripped a bit of tomato sauce onto his sheets (I hurried to lick it up, but he still noticed). Afterwards, the two of us just lay together, curled up in each other's arms and listening to our mingled breathing.

It was only then that I finally thought of Salem, still alone at my apartment and probably going crazy as he wondered what had happened to me. "I really do need to get back and check in on him," I insisted. Carter wasn't moving to stop me, not exactly, but his hands didn't seem to be in any hurry to release me, either.

"Well, I suppose that I do need to let you go eventually," he finally gave in, although he still hit me with the puppy-dog eyes as I pulled away from him and started searching for my scattered clothes. "But don't think that I'll let you slip away for too long."

"Trust me, I'm pretty sure that I'll be crawling back anyway," I answered, pausing for a moment to let my eyes roam across his still-naked, still-amazing body. God, how did the man find time to keep himself in such good shape? If it wasn't for the lust that was clear on his face whenever he looked at me, I'd be feeling like a lump of lard right about now.

"Good." Carter watched me for a minute longer as I struggled back into my clothes (maybe that pizza hadn't been such a good idea, after all), and then spoke up again. "But really, Becca. Can we put some of that fear behind us?"

I swallowed as I turned to him and nodded. "Yes. I'd like that, I think."

He stood up from the bed, moving forward and taking my face in his hands. He was still gloriously naked, but that didn't phase him in the slightest. "Don't think. Do it. Feel how good we'll be together."

Just the touch of his hands on me, his fingers pressing against my bare skin, his lips just an inch away from mine - it all set me off. "I can feel it," I murmured up to him, tilting my head back to meet his lips as they descended.

He kissed me slowly, savoring the feeling, as if we hadn't spent the last few hours getting to intimately know every single inch of each others' bodies in bed. "Do you work tomorrow?" he asked softly after we parted.

"Well, I'm not scheduled to do so - but I need to figure out how we'll introduce de St. James' sculptures into the gallery, where we'll make space, whether we need to throw some sort of party..." I watched as Carter narrowed his eyes at me. "...but I'm sure that I can find a bit of free time, in amid my work."

"Good. Don't ignore the lesson that de St. James passed on to you."

I blinked innocently up at him. "And what lesson might that be?"

His hand curled around my ass, pinching it just enough to make me yelp and squirm with a grin. "Don't get too caught up in work. There's plenty more that you can be doing - and I'll do my best to make sure that you have a lot of fun."

I didn't doubt him for a moment.

Still smiling, Carter followed me downstairs as I reluctantly left behind his amazing, massive bedroom. Even thinking about my own bed back in my apartment, small and cramped and not nearly as soft and luxurious, slightly depressed me. And as an added bonus, this bed happened to have Carter James in it! A naked, handsy, warm Carter James, who couldn't seem to keep his hands off of me...

"Excuse me," I said, pausing at the front door as I looked down at the foreign pair of hands that had slipped forward to wrap around my chest.

"Oh. Sorry. You're leaving, right. Forgot for a moment."

I didn't say anything, but just kept looking down at the hands. They didn't seem to want to relinquish their grip.

Carter sighed, spinning me around for one final kiss. "So what are we?" he asked, after tasting me.

"We're going out. Dating." I smiled up at him, happier than I could remember feeling in years. "Together."

He nodded. "Good. Don't forget it."

Finally, I forced myself out of Carter's house. I drove back to my own apartment, although try as I might, I couldn't shake the silly, stupid-looking smile on my face. Even Salem's meowing when I opened my apartment door made me beam even more.

"Oh, Salem, I'm with Carter! We're together! We're an item - and I'm not scared at all any more!" I cried out, bending down and sweeping Salem up into my arms. I spun in a circle, holding his warm, furry body against me. He meowed again, but put up with this new humiliation for at least a few seconds before growing too annoyed and starting to paw at me to get himself back on solid ground. Even back down on all fours, however, he still hung around me - although it was probably more because he wanted food than because he had absorbed any of my exuberance.

I ladled out some wet food into his little food bowl for him, grabbing a yogurt out of my fridge. Only two days past the expiration date - it was probably fine. "You know, Carter's next test is going to have to be meeting you," I told Salem, looking down at him as he shoved his bewhiskered face into the food bowl. "Won't that be fun? Another human for you to torture and intimidate into waiting on you hand and foot!"

Without lifting his face from the food he was presently inhaling, Salem purred, as if he already approved of the man.

I finished off the yogurt - apparently I still had a bit of room in my stomach, even after eating more than half of a pizza and several bread sticks - and headed for my bathroom. A long, hot shower and then bed, I told myself. That was all that I needed to make this day end on a perfect note.

Of course, even as I stepped into the steaming water, I couldn't help but wish, already, that Carter was there. With his big arms and broad shoulders, it would be a bit tougher for him to fit in the shower alongside me, but I didn't imagine that he'd raise any protests about being pressed up so closely against me...

Sighing with happiness, I climbed out of the shower, toweled most of the water off of my body, and headed off to bed. I still had a lot of work left - my comment to Carter hadn't been an exaggeration. I did still need to figure out how to spin this de St. James thing to make sure that we got the maximum publicity, that the introduction of his works registered as more than just a little blip on the radar of the art scene.

But, I decided as soon as my head hit the pillow, I could tackle that starting tomorrow.

I closed my eyes, once again imagining Carter lying in bed beside me. He would drape his big, strong arm around me, pressing his fingers gently against my back and rubbing them back and forth in slow little circles, his chest slowly rising and falling in counterpoint to my own breathing...

Already, I felt my eyelids starting to droop, consciousness slipping away from me. But even as I drifted off to sleep, I smiled, knowing that my dreams would be sweet.

Carter and me. Carter and Becca. Becca James.

Half asleep, I frowned for a moment, wondering if I was getting too far ahead of myself. We'd only just started officially dating, after all, despite all the flirting that we'd previously engaged in together. No need to rush this forward. After all, I could afford here to take my time, exploring each new step together with Carter instead of seeing this as a mad dash for the finish line.

And to think, I hadn't even yet told Portia! Even in the darkness of my bedroom, I nearly reached for the cell phone right there, intending to text her - but my fingers paused before opening the app to send the text. As soon as Portia read this news, she'd be blowing up my phone with questions.

Tomorrow, I told myself, setting the phone back down. I'd tell her tomorrow.

For now, all I wanted to do was lay back, sleep, and dream about Carter holding me, kissing me, loving me. He'd seen my craziest side, my wild texts, and still wanted me.

We had a future together - and I couldn't wait to take my time in exploring it together with him.

The End - for now...

Keep reading to see what's next for Becca and her friends in the Art of Grace Series, Book 3:

Partying with Grace

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Check out the first two chapters of Becca's next adventure!

PARTYING WITH GRACE

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Chapter One

*

"I hesitate to say this, in case something goes wrong," I called out, holding up my glass of wine, "but I think I need to just put it out there. I am, right now, happier than I can remember feeling. Ever."

"What, ever?" Portia Skye burst out next to me, almost spitting out her own mouthful of wine. "What about when you got engaged? For the next week, you were practically floating on air! Or how about the time that you got your college acceptance letter after it spent a week getting bounced around and lost in the mail? You couldn't even stand, you were so happy that time!"

The smile on my face didn't slip, even as I smacked Portia in the ribs with my elbow. "Happier than that," I told her, doing my best to fight the little note of irritation that wanted to creep into my voice.

Despite the hit from my elbow, Portia turned to frown at me, rotating sideways on her tall bar stool. She wobbled a little but kept a tight grip on her wine glass, a skill she'd mastered after many hours of practice. She didn't look the slightest bit winded from my elbow blow.

In fact... I reached down and rubbed at my elbow, wincing a little. That hit probably hurt me more than it hurt my best friend. Portia had an annoying habit of paying regular visits to the gym - which probably explained why every single inch of her body appeared fit and trim, while I tended towards the more... chubby... side of the spectrum. I probably hit her right in some muscle group that I couldn't even name, my elbow just bouncing right off.

"Becca, I'm thrilled for you that you're happy," Portia said, pointing a finger at me like a lecturer, "but I just want to be accurate, here. That's all."

I sighed. "Portia, those other times, I was really happy for a short little bit of time, because my life had just changed. But this time, I'm not happy because something's changing. I'm happy because it's all staying the same!" I paused for a moment, trying to find the right way to explain this new feeling.

Fortunately, the man sitting on the other side of the table from us finally opened his mouth and helped me out. "Portia, she's happy because she feels like her life is in the place that she wants it to be." His eyes rested on me, and his whole face lit up as he smiled warmly. "Isn't that right?"

Looking back at his smile, I practically felt my insides melting. Carter James. Not only was he possibly the single sexiest man I'd ever laid eyes on in my life, in person or anywhere else, but he was sticking up for me! Dating me! And, unless the leg rubbing against my own under the table belonged to someone else, planning on doing some very intimate things with me later tonight.

"That's exactly right," I agreed, after I realized that I'd been staring into Carter's warm brown eyes like a lovestruck puppy for a little too long. "I'm happy because finally, it feels like everything is working out for me. And for once, I can't think of anything that I'd want to change."

Next to me, Portia regarded me cannily for another second - and then her face split into a smile, and she set her wineglass back down on the table. "That's what I wanted to hear!" she exclaimed, sweeping me up into a hug. "And I'm so happy for you!"

Hit by that tidal wave of enthusiasm, I couldn't help but squeeze her back, grinning like an idiot. Even though Portia always made me feel a little sloppy whenever I stood or sat next to her, I knew just how much she worried about my happiness, how she cared so selflessly for me. I'd been buoyed by that affection and kindness ever since we first met, all the way back in elementary school, and I always did my best to reciprocate.

After Portia finally released me from the hug so that I could get a fresh breath of air, I sat back on the stool, lifting my wineglass up to my lips for a sip. All around us, the tables were full of young people, just off of work and enjoying a glass or two of delicious alcohol before heading off to find dinner, return home, or hit the town for a night of partying.

The wine bar, Vini, where we sat was located only a couple of blocks away from my own workplace - the Halesford Gallery, a small private art gallery that featured many local artists in a collective, cooperative setting. Created by my uncle, Preston Halesford, I'd been given the reins as manager, and essentially oversaw every aspect of the day-to-day business operations.