Love on Beach Avenue(78)
He rolled her to the side, tangling her limbs within his, and smiled down at her. “Hey.”
She smiled a bit dopily, still stunned from the powerful release. “Hey. I guess you’d term that a power nap.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Sorry, I can’t keep my hands off you for long. I’m thinking you can become an addiction.”
“I have less calories than a chocolate croissant.”
This time, he laughed deep and hard, and she caressed his hair, her fingers trailing down the back of his neck. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said.
“The answer is yes. To anything you want or need.”
“Good to know. When did you get your tattoo?”
He blinked, as if just remembering he had ink on his back. “When I was young. Seventeen. I was a senior in high school, and my buddies had some fake IDs. We got into a bar, had a few beers, and ended up at a tattoo place. Thank God we all got something meaningful. I doubt anyone had regrets.”
“It’s beautiful.” She urged him forward, and he leaned over so she could see the faint outline in the dim light flooding into the room. “Why is this symbol important to you?”
“It represents my belief that you have to wander in order to find yourself. Getting lost isn’t an obstacle, but a way to experience an adventure.”
Her fingers traced the ink in wonder. Surprise struck her as she fought to make sense of his choice. “I don’t understand,” she finally said. “This seems like a complete contradiction of the life you chose. I always thought you didn’t believe in travel, or impulsive decisions, or having a wanderlust soul. Remember when Ally and I wanted to go to the Bahamas on break? You lost your shit.”
“I didn’t trust either of you would be safe on your own. There were rumors about rich guys drugging girls’ drinks. I kept thinking about Natalee Holloway.”
“Exactly. Yet this is inked on your skin, by choice. What happened, Carter?”
It took a while for him to answer. She sensed the struggle inside him, and her gut clenched in fear. He’d promised to open up to her and give what he could. But would her first request be brushed off with an excuse? Was he really able to share parts of himself with her?
Then he spoke, his voice holding a lifetime of maybes and what-ifs, tearing at her heart. “I was different before my parents died. I’d planned to go away to college and be a big-shot journalist. I wanted to travel and write and explore the world on my terms. I never wanted to go to a local community college, study computer science, and get a stable job. Before my mother got sick, I was just a kid who believed I could have it all. The compass was the symbol of every direction I craved to travel, and having it permanently inked was my Fuck you to everyone who thought I was going through a phase and would end up becoming practical.”
In the silence, she heard the quiet sound of his breath, the faint whir of the air conditioner, the steady click of the bedside clock. The picture became sharp and startlingly clear—the life he’d once believed he’d live versus the one he’d chosen in order to raise Ally.
Jagged emotion tore at her insides, along with a humbleness of the strength of the man wrapped in her arms. God, he was special. And though he swore it wasn’t in him, Avery knew he was wrong.
Carter Ross was meant to love.
But she said none of that. Instead, she pressed her lips to the precious ink, her tongue tracing the graceful curves and angles of the compass. Her hands stroked his back, slipped around his stomach, and squeezed tight.
Slowly, his breathing changed, and his erection pushed into her hands in demand. She touched him everywhere, her teeth sinking into the hard muscle of his shoulder, and with a curse, he turned toward her and pulled her against him.
He kissed her long and deep and hard, laying her back on the mattress. His gaze was wild and hungry, but she spotted the flicker of grief there, ready to be soothed, so she caressed his rough cheeks and gave herself up to him to use and fuck and savor.
To forget.
But he didn’t. Instead, his hands were achingly tender, his lips gentle and reverent as he worshipped her body and made love to her until the darkness was gone and the hopeful flicker of dawn soaked the Atlantic City skyline.
Chapter Eighteen
Carter dragged in a breath and stepped into the room.
The groomsmen were getting ready to head to the beach for the official ceremony. He greeted Jason’s friends and brother, grinning at the flasks lying out on the table. Jason turned and waved them ahead. “Be right there, guys,” he said, glancing over as if he sensed they needed a private moment.
The groomsmen disappeared and left them alone.
“You’re not here to tell me she ran off in a horse and carriage, are you?” Jason asked, dark eyes glinting in humor.
Carter laughed, but his chest felt too tight, as if he couldn’t breathe. Jason stood before him, his elegant black tuxedo emphasizing his lean strength. His hair was slicked back, and his handsome face held an excitement that every man should show on his wedding day.
But it was his eyes that made all the difference. They were full of love and a kindness that Carter’s sister deserved.
Carter thought of his parents and knew how much they would have loved Jason and trusted him with Ally. He wanted to tell his future brother-in-law so many things. That he was getting a woman who was fierce, and beautiful, and true. That he was happy Jason had chosen her to spend the rest of his life with. That he loved the way his entire family had welcomed Ally into their lives with joy. But the importance of the moment overwhelmed him, and the words twisted up and remained stuck and silent.