A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(140)

“Better different?”

“Yeah.” His eyes glimmered, soft and gentle. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

[page]The food was incredible. Kat told him repeatedly about how good it was, and, in return, Carter made salacious comments about how he’d heard those kinds of words from her before. Kat had convinced herself that playful Carter would be difficult to adjust to; she was so used to brooding, serious, cursing, huffy Carter—and she loved him dearly—that cute and cuddly Carter sounded ridiculous. Kat realized that, in this case, she loved being wrong. His honesty and smile came easier the more they talked, pulling Kat deeper and deeper into the arms of emotions that no longer frightened her. She only worried whether they would frighten him.

After they washed up, during which Carter let his hands rub all over Kat’s ass, he led her down the porch onto the beach. It was dark, but small twinkling lights placed on either side of the walkway, and Carter’s flashlight, showed the way.

While Kat placed the beer and the bag he’d given her to carry to the side, and took a seat on the cool sand, Carter went about starting a fire in the pit filled with driftwood and logs with a can of lighter fluid, a match, and much enthusiasm. Kat doubled over laughing when she saw his ecstatic expression once he got the damn thing ablaze.

“Me. Man. Build fire for woman,” he boomed, pounding his chest and gesturing proudly to the pit.

Kat called him an utter loser, which encouraged Carter to attack her ribs mercilessly with his long, nimble fingers. He growled into her neck while he tickled her, and laughed when she tried to tickle him back. It was loud—a true belly laugh that came from deep inside of him.

It was wonderful.

Carter shuffled so his back was against a conveniently placed rock and pulled Kat between his legs, keeping the blanket around them both. He pulled two beers and a pack of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate from a bag. She stared wide-eyed at the bag in his hand.

“You brought marshmallows?” she exclaimed.

Carter deadpanned: “Um, we have an open flame going on here, Peaches. Of course I brought marshmallows. We have to eat s’mores on the beach.” He scoffed. “It’s the law.”

They ate at least three each before Kat called mercy and collapsed against Carter. “I’m so full. You always make me eat too much. I’m gonna get really fat.”

Carter clicked his tongue next to her ear. “What bullshit.” His hands moved under her layers of clothes and gripped her sides. “You’re f*cking perfect. I love the way you feel. Besides, I’ll help you work it off later.”

“I’m sure,” Kat shot back and giggled when she heard him groan. “First, tell me more about the house and your time with your grandma.” He handed her another beer. She was on her fourth now, and she needed to slow down. If Carter’s aim was to get her drunk and have his way with her, then he wasn’t far from achieving it. “Tell me about your friends, girlfriends … tell me everything.”

Carter laughed. They continued to watch the flames lick and dance in the moonlight. The wind had died down now and the sky had cleared, dropping the temperature so that their breath was visible. Kat couldn’t feel the cold, though, wrapped in her blissful bubble.

“Okay.” Carter rubbed his hands across her stomach. “Well, my main group of friends work with me at the shop.”

“Max’s shop? Tell me about Max. How long have you known each other?”

Carter smiled. “Nearly twenty years.”

“Is he a good friend to you?”