The Husband Checklist Read online

  “All right, Daph, calm your horses.” I wink at her and gather my things. “Hurry. I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re done.”

  She gives me a huge grin. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t take long. I’m too excited to go shopping.”

  I groan, and she laughs, clearly enjoying my misery.

  She points her finger at me. “You promised.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now go.” I wave her off and watch as she makes her way through the maze of equipment to the changing rooms.

  What a way to get in over my head.

  * * *

  Two hours later, I’m fully convinced someone has carefully planned my death for today.

  “How about this one?” Julia spins in front of me. Left, then right, before doing it all over again outside her changing room.

  We’re still at the first store she dragged me into, and at this point, I’m not entirely sure we’ll ever leave. It’s like a black hole in here, and the enormous pile of clothes she stacked on the chair next to me doesn’t seem to get any smaller.

  At the moment, she’s wearing a red dress that fits her like a glove. It looks stunning on her, the color of the dress working wonders with her dark hair she left down after her shower. I didn’t realize clothes shopping with her would be this difficult. It’s a lot harder to look at her without . . . well, really looking at her. How does anyone expect me to give her an objective opinion if all I see is accentuated body parts?

  And hell, does this red number make both her boobs and ass look spectacular.

  She waves her hands in front of me, her eyebrows pulled together. “Carter? You’re doing this weird staring thing again. Are you sure you’re all right? We can go home and finish up another day if you don’t feel well. Or I can just come back tomorrow while you’re at work.”

  I shake my head, feeling a little guilty. “No, no. Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “If you’re sure.” She doesn’t look convinced but lets it go. It doesn’t escape my notice that she’s a little quieter, the light in her eyes a little dimmer. I hate even the slightest possibility that I did that. “So, what do you think?”

  Focusing on helping her as much as I can, I scan her body again, trying my best not to linger in certain places. “I think it’s great. It suits you. Are you sure you need all these fancy dresses, though? I mean, you’re not going to work in them when you’re home, right?”

  She brushes her hands over the material, keeping her eyes downcast. “Of course not. But hopefully, they’ll come in handy when I go out, you know, on dates and that sort of thing, maybe some business meetings. And I’ll buy more casual clothes too. I was just in the mood to try on the pretty dresses first.”

  Well, lucky me.

  “For your dates, huh?” The filter between my brain and mouth seems to be out of order.

  She lets out a long breath and walks over to me, letting herself fall into the seat next to me that’s not occupied by clothes. “You don’t think I should go on dates?”

  I push my hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Jules. I obviously can’t tell you what to do, but you’ve only been out of your relationship for less than a week. Don’t you think you should wait for a while? You might not even be ready for anything new yet, I don’t know. Isn’t there usually a certain amount of time that should pass? Like a mourning phase for your old relationship or some shit like that?”

  One look at her, and I know she’s going to burst out laughing in a second. And she does.

  A snort-like noise escapes her mouth, making her eyes go wide. “Carter, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re showing signs of PMS with the mood swings you’ve been having the past few days.” She still chuckles as she continues. “I think most relationships do have a natural phase of alone time in between, some longer than others. But I’ve already realized something, and I know it’s going to sound strange, but I don’t think I really loved Nate.”

  “Huh?” My eyes open wide, and I force myself to close my mouth that fell open at her admission.

  Her face turns serious and she drops her head, visibly shrinking in front of my eyes. “When Mom and Dad died, I felt incredibly lonely, even when I was in a room full of people, and I had no clue what to do with my life. I kind of lost my path there for a while and barely went anywhere. School got so bad I had to drop my classes and take some time off. I did the bare minimum to live. When I started going back to school, I ran into Nate. He was a nice guy, and the best thing was, he didn’t remind me of my old life. He didn’t know anything about me or what happened. Before I knew it, I clung to him like he was my lifeline. Since he never complained about it, I suspect he enjoyed the fact I needed him like that.”

  “Mmm.” What the hell am I supposed to say to something like that? Grief is such a difficult thing to manage, and standing by the sidelines unable to help sucks too. Ollie didn’t do well after his parents’ deaths either, but at least, he seemed to deal with it. I automatically assumed Jules did too.

  “Nate did help me to get out of my deep hole, I can’t deny that. I’m definitely grateful for that, and I think that’s exactly what happened. I confused gratefulness and friendship with love. One thing led to another with us, and I never really looked much deeper than that. I slowly started living my life again, but this time with Nate by my side. It wasn’t like my old life but a ton better than all the months following the accident. I can’t blame him for things not working out. It was mostly me putting on my blinders, not wanting to analyze anything too closely. We should have never stayed together, or maybe even gotten together in the first place.”

  She sniffles and wipes at her nose with the back of her hand, turning away from me as much as possible.

  “I still think he’s an asshole.” Leave it up to me to say the first thing that’s on my mind. Thankfully, she looks at me and laughs.

  “He’s absolutely an ass for dumping me the way he did. But I’m over it already. I’m more upset with myself for wasting so much time than anything else, but I don’t want to think about it anymore.” She slaps me lightly on the knee and gets up from the chair. “I still have a few things I want to try on, but you really don’t have to stay here with me. I can do the rest by myself.”

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t wait to see the other outfits.” I put on my best smile for her, wanting nothing more than to see her happy again. “Seriously, I promised you I’d do this, so I’m going to stay right here in this incredibly uncomfortable chair, waiting for the rest of the fashion show to take place. So, are we doing this or what?”

  Her eyes are still a little watery, but at least I can see a spark of the previous amusement back in them. For a moment, I thought I saw something else too, but it was gone before I could work out what it was.

  She bends down, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Thanks, Carter. I really appreciate it. You’re a good guy.”

  I nod, trying to smile but unable to pull it off. “Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for, right? I mean, I obviously can’t take you to Vegas in your yoga pants and oversized T-shirts, can I?”

  If the twitching corners of her mouth are any indication, she sees straight through my shit.

  Please, may there be no bathing suits in this pile. I will not cope with that.

  Chapter Seven

  Julia

  I’m not sure why anyone would call this tight space an airplane seat. I call BS, because my butt barely fits, and it’s not that big. It also reminds me of why I haven’t been to Las Vegas yet, or any other place you usually travel to via airplane.

  “You hanging in there, Jules? We should have talked about this before. Damn it.” Carter’s voice is low, maybe even a little frantic, and he looks at me like I’m a puppy that just got stepped on, his brows raised high.

  “I’m fine.” I’m not sure I say it for his benefit or mine, but I repeat it several more times in my head like it’s a mantra. It can’t hurt, and maybe I'll actually start to believe it.
r />   “You’re as white as a ghost, and I’m afraid you might rip the armrests off any second now, or at least leave some claw marks.” He leans closer, his breath tickling my face. “Not my definition of fine.”

  He’s right. Shoot.

  I slowly pry my fingers off the armrest and clench my fists tightly on my lap instead. “I knew I should have taken a parachute with me.”

  He chuckles beside me, and I glare at him.

  His hands immediately go up in surrender, and he stops laughing. “Sorry, I thought you were joking.”

  “Do I look like I’m joking about anything right now?” Leaning my head on the headrest, I close my eyes and take a deep breath in through my nose and out of my mouth.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  The total chaos that’s trying to take over my body slows down a little, my breathing still too quick and shallow, my skin still sweaty and flushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. It’s my fault. I didn’t realize it’s still this bad. Somehow, I just assumed you’ve gotten over your fear of flying over the years.” Carter’s arm nudges my shoulder and slowly moves around my back for a side hug. He pulls me as close to him as possible in this tight space with our seat belts buckled.

  I lean into him, his soothing voice and the comfort of his closeness making this already more bearable. “To be honest, that’s kind of what I was hoping for too. I was totally fine until we sat down. Ugh, I hate feeling like this. It’s so stupid, but I just can’t control it.”

  “Stop worrying about it, please. We’re totally safe, I promise, and the statistics are definitely in our favor.” The tone in his voice has changed; it’s stronger now, more matter-of-fact. I’m not sure it helps, but it does make me feel marginally better.

  Leaning closer, I get a good sniff of his cologne. It’s a mix of citrus and musk, something he’s used for years, a scent I associate with him. “I’m not sure if numbers will make me feel any better right now. They also wouldn’t change the fact that we’re sitting in a small metal tube that’s loaded with flammable liquid. And don’t quote me on this, but if the media is anything to go by, the person I’m supposed to trust the most on this airplane might as well have an alcohol problem.”

  An involuntary shudder runs through me at the thought alone, and Carter squeezes my shoulder.

  The low rumble and quivers of his laughter shake his body, and therefore, mine too, and I can’t help but grin a little as well. “Okay. That might have been a little dramatic.”

  The look he gives me is filled with amusement. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes oddly fascinating. “Definitely entertaining though.”

  His hand tightens on my arm and he squeezes my whole frame into his side once more.

  When the flight attendant walks around to check the seat belts, he pulls back his arm but stays close with his face. “Just take a few deep breaths. I’m right here to help you however I can. If you want to, we can play games to distract you.”

  “Thank you.” The words barely slip out of my mouth as I focus on my breathing.

  “Anytime.”

  I’m not sure if the deep breathing helps with my anxiety, but at least his cologne distracts me every time I inhale. It keeps my mind occupied for the time being, and I’m grateful for it as the crew gets ready for takeoff, checking the overhead bins before getting settled in their own seats.

  When the plane starts moving, I desperately try to find something to hold on to that’s sturdy enough when Carter offers his hand.

  “Just don’t break it, please.” He flexes his fingers as if he’s getting ready to battle.

  “I promise.” Not even wasting a thought on the scenario, I grasp his hand tightly in mine.

  He immediately interlaces our fingers and rubs his thumb over the back of my hand in soothing circles.

  Feeling the sensation combined with watching the movement, finally quiets my mind, at least momentarily. It’s almost hypnotic and makes my skin buzz in a weird way, like it’s hypersensitive and doesn’t know what to do with this new sensation.

  Before I can ponder on it any more, we speed down the runway, my eyes wide as the tremors of the airplane jolt through me, my stomach getting that weird drop feeling I hate so much. The same one I get on roller-coaster rides. Not only does my heartbeat increase from it but my breathing as well, making me slightly dizzy.

  Carter squeezes my hand repeatedly before bending forward to retrieve something from his backpack. A moment later, he offers me a small bottle of orange juice. Since I don’t want to let go of his hand under any circumstances, I open it while he holds it. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement when I take it, gulping down the sugary sweetness as fast as I can.

  “Thank you.” I give him a small smile, trying to focus on his face instead of the fact that we’re quickly gaining height, already several thousand feet in the air.

  “Of course. Just look at me, and we’ll get through this together.”

  I nod, thankful he’s so sweet and helpful. Other people would probably be annoyed with me.

  “Eyes on me, Jules.” He reminds me once more as my gaze sways to the side. “All right, time for a game. If you could see the future, what would it be like in five years?”

  “Huh?” I feel like I missed something.

  “We’re going to ask each other questions.”

  “Just anything?”

  He grins. “Yup.”

  I swallow loudly, realizing how quickly this could take an embarrassing turn if he decides to ask the wrong or rather right questions.

  “Okay, let’s see.” I take a moment to actually think, knowing he’s chosen a good question for me. “It’s nothing exciting really. I’d love to expand my business over the next few years, maybe hire a person or two to help. That sort of thing.”

  “That’s a great goal, and very reasonable too.” He studies me intently, his voice lower than before. “How about your private life?”

  For some reason, my gaze flicks to our still intertwined hands before answering him. “Well, I guess you kind of know the answer to that already. I’d like to be married and if possible, have a baby at that point.”

  He grimaces, and I laugh. “You really want to be a mom that young?”

  “Carter, I’m twenty-three. You can hardly call becoming a mom in your late twenties young.”

  He tilts his head to the left, his eyebrows drawn together. “I thought it was the new thing to wait until you’re in your thirties.”

  I shrug. “For some probably, others are perfectly happy to get married at eighteen and get started with a family right away. I don’t think the age matters as much as finding the right partner and being ready for it.”

  He thinks about that for a moment. “I guess.”

  My body freezes momentarily at his response before something dawns on me. “You don’t want to have kids, do you?”

  I still feel like someone pulled the rug out from under my feet when he shakes his head.

  “You know how I feel about marriage, and children kind of belong in the same category for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against children, I actually like them. But what’s the point of having a child with someone when you know you won’t stay together? And to have a child just for the sake of having one so you can pass it around for the rest of their life seems selfish and wrong in my eyes.”

  The slightly harsh tone of his voice and the hard, distinctive line of his jaw throws me for a moment, so contrary to the fun and carefree version of Carter from mere minutes ago.

  If I’m honest, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around this. On one side, I see where he’s coming from, but on the other side, I’m sad to hear him say something like that, especially since it means so much to me. Also, the possibility of his parents screwing him up majorly in that aspect, not to mention irreversibly, makes me incredibly mad.

  He touches my nose with his finger, the negative emotion wipe
d off his face. “Stop worrying about it. This wasn’t supposed to get you all depressed. I’m fine, I promise. Besides, just think how lucky your kids will be to have me as their uncle. It’s your turn to ask a question.” He pauses for a moment before the corners of his mouth turn upward. “And make it interesting.”

  I’ll probably ponder over the fact that he doesn’t want to be a dad some more later on. But for now, I’m distracted enough to think of what embarrassing thing I could ask him.

  “Oh,” I finally exclaim, smiling broadly. “What’s the worst thing anyone’s walked in on you doing?”

  Carter throws his head back and laughs. I not only feel but also see several eyes from other passengers snap our way, quite a few appreciative gazes among them when they see who the noisemaker is.

  He wiggles his eyebrows, the humor still dancing in his eyes. “Easy answer. Stacy.”

  “Stacy?” I cock my head to the side, curious to hear more.

  “Yeah. Do you remember her from high school? We were kind of dating for a while, if you can call it that.”

  I groan in response, having a good idea where this might be going, or at least what’s going to be involved. “Well, spill it already.”

  He rubs his free hand on his thigh, chuckling to himself. “All right. So, we finally started to have sex after seeing each other for a while, and you can imagine how stoked my high school self was. One day, I took her back to my place and we were in the middle of doing . . . you know . . . when the door burst open and my mom waltzed in. She shielded her eyes with her hand, saying she just needs to get the laundry quickly, or it would be too late to start it. Then she added that she hoped I was smarter than my dad and was using protection. She gathered what she needed and left again. Needless to say, the moment was ruined, and Stacy wasn’t so forthcoming with her affection afterward.”

  “No way.” I stare at him for several seconds before I burst into laughter. “Oh my gosh, that totally sounds like your mom. No wonder Stacy was acting so weird all of a sudden whenever you were around.”