A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(152)

Keeping his eyes on the flickering flames in the hearth, he answered: “I’m sure people say stuff like that a lot. You know, when they get carried away in the moment.” There was a second of complete silence where Kat tensed in his arms. Lightning lit the room sporadically.

Carter’s eyes fluttered closed when her hand touched his chin, bringing his face around to hers.

“You think I got lost in the moment?”

He shrugged.

Kat shook her head slowly from side to side and cleared her throat. “I didn’t get carried away, Wes.”

His name never sounded as good as it did when she said it. He held her stare, searching for any hint of a lie, but all her beautiful eyes told him was the truth.

“You didn’t?”

Her head continued to shake, as she mouthed silently, No.

His chest heaved, as he tried to regain thought and the ability to speak. “Wh—” His throat closed around the word. He swallowed, and tried again. “If you weren’t caught up in the moment,” he muttered, “why are you sorry?”

Kat drew invisible circles around Carter’s belly button. She stayed quiet for an age, driving Carter beyond distraction.

“I’m sorry because I didn’t want to say it that way. I didn’t know if you’d want to hear it. I was afraid you’d not want to hear it.” Gradually she brought her head up. “I didn’t want to say it while we were together this way.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cliché. Tacky.”

“Kat.” He grabbed her wrists and shifted her back, sliding out of her body. He pulled her hands, clasping them over his heart. He breathed, collecting himself. “Did you mean it?”

His voice sounded so foreign. He felt so f*cking small. Weak. Breakable.

Kat’s forehead dropped to his. She trembled against him.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I meant it. With everything that I am, I meant it.”

*

Saying those three words to him—as scary and unexpected as it was—had made Kat’s whole body light. She loved him with every part of herself, inside and out, good and bad, past and present.

His fingers were suddenly at her face, tracing her lips. “I want to hear it.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I didn’t know how much until just now. Don’t ever be sorry about saying that.”

“But—”

He cut her off again with a burning kiss that made her toes curl. It was filled with lust, gratitude, and a long moan that came from his throat. He wanted to hear her say that she loved him. He wanted her to love him. Kat’s body folded into him in relief.

“Can I tell you something?” Carter asked quietly when their lips separated. “You’re the first person, the first person in my whole f*ckin’ life, to ever say those words to me.”

Kat blinked.

“But your family,” she began, garnering an amused and sardonic expression from him. Okay. Of course not. “Your grandmother?” she hedged. “Friends?”

Carter’s eyes dropped to her mouth. “I was always ‘precious’ to Gran, and she did love me, but she never said the words. And my friends?” He chuckled. “We’re not exactly the huggy, affectionate types. Max is like my brother, but … no, we don’t say that to each other.”

Kat was astonished. How could the man before her never have heard anyone tell him that he was loved? What kind of parents would allow that? How could he have lived for so long with no one telling him how special he was?