The Husband Checklist Page 7

  “You think?” He lets out a loud breath. “Oh, Jules, what am I gonna do with you?”

  I shrug.

  “What exactly did you want me here for tonight anyway?”

  I grimace and avoid his gaze as the reality of what I was about to do crashes down on me. Covering my face with my fingers, I peek through my fingertips at him sheepishly. “Be my best man?”

  He takes a step closer, his presence pushing away the remnants of my muddled brain. “In case we aren’t clear on this yet, in no way are you getting married to Brad.”

  “Marc.”

  “What?”

  “His name is Marc, not Brad.”

  “I honestly don’t give a shit what his name is.” Once more, he points his finger at me, his words almost resembling a growl. “You’re not getting married to Marc, or anyone else for that matter. You’re clearly not thinking straight.”

  I put my hands on my hips and pout. When I realize what I’m doing, I chuckle.

  Carter, on the other side, is frowning at me again. “What is it now?”

  “Nothing. I just think this is all so much fun, that’s all. I haven’t felt this alive in years.”

  He pinches the bridge between his eyes, briefly closing them. When he opens them, his gaze is softer, the tension leaving his face as he grabs my hand. “Come on, Jules. Let’s get you back to your room so you can sleep this off.”

  I look over my shoulder at my almost husband, and so does Carter. “Looks like he’s out for the night anyway. We better tell someone on the way. Oh well, I had a fun evening with him.”

  “I don’t think spending a few hours with someone fun qualifies them as spouse material. I’m afraid we have to talk some more about your sudden urge to find a husband. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.”

  I’m not sure I like where this is going. That feels like a serious talk, and I’ve had enough seriousness in my life for the past few years. “It’s not that bad.”

  He suddenly spins me around to face Marc who is now snoring loudly on the bench. Carter’s breath is on my neck, the smell of his aftershave infiltrating my senses. I let out a little sigh of appreciation, and Carter stiffens behind me.

  After drawing a breath, he releases it before speaking, making me shiver involuntarily. “Does this guy,” he murmurs into my ear, unmistakably talking about the sleeping person on the other side of the large room, “look like someone you want to spend the rest of your life with? At least I always assumed you wanted to be married for a long time and not end up like my mom.”

  My mouth falls open, the statement clearing the last remnants of the fuzziness straight from my mind. Even though I’m still a little distracted by Carter’s close proximity, I suddenly see everything in front of me with a shocking clarity.

  Gone is the cheery, funny guy I met earlier this evening who I was laughing with nonstop. In his place, is a guy who looks exhausted and very sad, deep frown lines etched into his forehead even when he’s passed out.

  I shake my head. “You’re right. Let’s go. He probably would have been bad in bed anyway.”

  Turning around, I walk out of the room, and down the long corridor.

  It takes Carter a few seconds before he starts running after me, falling in step next to me. “Just like that?”

  “Yup, just like that. I can be reasonable sometimes.” I raise my chin as he eyes me curiously. “Plus, I’ve sobered up, so I’d appreciate it if we could just pretend this never happened. Now, I need some fresh air before we head back inside.”

  After telling an employee about Marc, and Carter practically forcing an entire bottle of water down my throat, we walk through the busy hotel in silence until we finally find an exit. It happens to be perfect timing too since the water fountain show is about to start.

  I rush to one of the balconies, trying to avoid all the people coming from every direction. Carter’s on my heels, following me wordlessly until we’re both pressed into the balcony landing as more people join us, oohing and aahing with us throughout the whole show.

  Once the show is done—absolutely magical, and way better live—the crowd dissipates around us.

  Carter clears his throat next to me. “So . . . What did you mean earlier when you said that guy would have been bad in bed?”

  His sole focus is on me, his body tilted my way.

  I snort as I think about my best friend and lean in conspiratorially. “It’s really more Michelle’s doing than mine.”

  “How so?” Crap. Impatient Carter has returned. He has this twitchy eye thing happening when he’s like this.

  “Well, she’s convinced it’s possible to tell if someone is good or bad in bed by really looking at them. Something about paying attention to the details like intense eye contact, being confident and attentive. There was more, but I can’t remember what else she said.” My eyes are wide as I stare at him, expecting him to laugh.

  Instead, he frowns at me. He’s been doing that an awful lot tonight, and it’s something I’m not used to seeing much. Of course, he isn’t always happy, but his bad moods usually don’t stay for long.

  “That’s absurd, but Michelle’s always been a bit crazy. I mean, I’m sure it’s a lucky guess sometimes—the chances are fifty-fifty after all—but she can’t possibly pick guys that way.” His brows furrow as he seems to seriously contemplate this.

  I smile at him, trying to bring this conversation back to the happier side. “So far she’s been right every single time, both good and bad.”

  He shakes his head in exasperation. “There’s so much I want to say about this, but I don’t need to know anything about Michelle’s sex life, please. Not to mention, I’d rather not spend our one night in Vegas talking about her.”

  I tip my head in his direction. “Fair enough.”

  He grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him when a rowdy group of guys walks past us. “Seriously though, Jules. Please don’t put too much into that theory.”

  I stare at him, just stare at him, while the synapses in my brain are trying to figure out which way to take this conversation. I have a response on the tip of my tongue, but the civilized part of my mind is trying to reason with me.

  I’m not sure if this is the last bit of alcohol speaking, or if I might just have had enough of doing the right thing after the way I’ve lived the last few years, but . . . Unable to contain my smirk, I watch his face, not wanting to miss his reaction to my next words. “So, that means you’re not good in bed then?”

  Chapter Ten

  Carter

  Whooosh.

  That’s all I can hear right now, a strange whooshing sound in my ears.

  Jules is staring at me with her expressive brown eyes, waiting for a response. There’s also something else in her gaze. Is she testing me? Daring me? If anything has proven how much she’s changed over the past few years, it’s tonight’s behavior. Right now, I don’t think anything about this woman would surprise me anymore.

  Whenever I talked to Ollie about his sister, he suggested everything was still the same with her. Very odd.

  Which I’m pretty sure was either a load of bullshit, or Jules put on a happy front for her brother.

  Now, I’m staring at one of my oldest friends who seems to be silently challenging me.

  To do what exactly?

  Simply answer her question or something more than that?

  “What do you want from me right now, Jules?” Holding on to her arm, I spin us around so we switch places. People kept bumping into her, so now she’s safely standing on the side, leaning against the rough balcony while I block the crowd around us.

  She shrugs, her voice lower than before. “I don’t know. I can’t say I’m not curious.”

  She mentioned earlier she isn’t drunk anymore, and I believe her, even though it’s hard to wrap my head around what she just said. This bold and direct Jules—someone I’ve seen several times over this last week—is extremely hard to ignore. She’s becoming bolder . . . more daring. Bu
t, what the fuck?

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Curious about what exactly?”

  She lifts her chin, exposing her neck some more, and I’m momentarily distracted by it, almost missing her answer. “You, Carter.”

  The way she looks at me makes me feel like I’m a freaking wonder of the world. I don’t realize I’ve taken a step closer to her until I see the reaction on her face. Her sharp intake of breath as she glances at me with wide eyes.

  “What about me?” My nose fills with the smell of her perfume. It’s subtle, the same one she’s been using for as long as I can remember. This time, it’s mixed with something I can’t identify though, something unique to just her.

  “I’ve always wondered about you, I suppose.”

  Even though her reply wasn’t anything special, it does something to me. A strong awareness of my heartbeat overcomes me, and I feel breathless. Despite that, I smirk at her, momentarily wondering if I’m losing my mind. “You’ve wondered if I’m good in bed?”

  At that, she averts her eyes from me.

  But I won’t have it. “Look at me and answer my question, Jules.” I know I’m pushing her right now, but something inside me needs to know. “Is that what you’ve been wondering about?”

  She throws her hands up in defeat. “Yes, okay? Are you happy now? Goodness, Carter. I mean, look at you. You look like a freaking model, and you’re a good guy on top of it. We’ve all wondered. I can’t think of a girl in high school who didn’t have a crush on you at some point.”

  Her statement, mixed with her red cheeks, makes me stop for a second, my mind going completely blank before it reboots. “You,” I say, “had a crush on me?”

  “Oh, please. Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m pretty sure Ollie told you all about it and you guys had a good laugh about his silly little sister.” She purses her lips, and I see that sass returning.

  “Wait, wait. Your brother knew?” Wow. This keeps getting better and better. I’m floored, to say the least. “He never said a thing. Not once.”

  Now, she looks as shocked as I feel. “He didn’t?”

  I shake my head before shoving my hand through my hair.

  “Oh,” is all she says in response.

  We’re quiet for a moment, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

  This revelation is huge. For me at least.

  “So . . . you had a crush on me, huh?” I can’t help myself but feel a little cocky about it, wanting to dig deeper. No way can I let this go easily. Thankfully, the crowd has mostly disappeared, and the commotion around us has turned into white noise.

  “I think we just established that, Carter. Can we move on from that now? I’ve already embarrassed myself enough.” Her head dips, and I instantly miss the connection.

  Since I’m not sure what else to do, I keep pushing. “Do you regret having a crush on me?”

  She frowns at me. “No. Just talking about it feels weird and humiliating, especially since I thought you knew all these years and just ignored it.”

  I still can’t believe my best friend kept this from me. Somehow, I’ll have to figure out why.

  My hand goes to my chest. “I swear I had no clue.”

  She smooths out her dress even though it looks flawless. “Well, now you know and we can stop talking about it, all right?”

  In a twisted way, her obvious discomfort is amusing. She looks fucking cute, all flustered and discombobulated. Like I’m getting under her skin. “Okay. Let’s get back to the ‘being good in bed’ part then.”

  Her mouth drops open at my words. It takes her a moment to compose herself, but I give her whatever time she needs. When she gives me a small smirk that’s sexy as hell, I wonder if I’m playing with fire, and suddenly, I wouldn’t mind getting a little burnt.

  This whole conversation is a game-changer.

  She leans in closer like she’s about to whisper a secret to me. “Does that mean you’re ready to tell me then?”

  Knowing she had a crush on me when we were younger has fueled something inside me. Something forbidden, a fire that’s tormenting me, begging me to take what it wants, what it has desired for so long but has always been denied.

  The taboo of it all has somehow vanished. Even though I can think clearly enough to know there’ll be consequences, I don’t care.

  Something inside me snaps, and I take another small step toward her.

  Bending down, I move closer to her face, barely missing her cheek as I move my mouth to her ear. “If you’re so curious about it, why don’t you find out yourself?”

  Silence.

  Even though we’re in the middle of a busy public place, it feels like only the two of us exist.

  Then she lets out the tiniest yet most potent moan I’ve ever heard. Not sure I was supposed to hear it, but I did. Despite knowing exactly what’s right and what isn’t—making a move on my best friend’s sister is definitely not on the right side—I turn my head slightly to the side and take her earlobe between my teeth.

  After a soft tug on it, I move further down and give her throat a gentle kiss.

  “Carter, what . . . what—” The rest of her sentence disappears into thin air as I suck on her skin.

  After a moment, I move back a few inches to look at her. Her eyes are closed, the lights around us bright enough to show her flushed cheeks. When she opens her eyes, they’re pure fire. It’s potent and draws me in like nothing else. She licks her lips absentmindedly as her gaze flickers to mine.

  A brief moment of doubt hits me. “Jules, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then don’t say anything.”

  Instead, I can’t help myself and gaze at her mouth too, making it pretty obvious what I want.

  When I look back up at her, the fire seems to burn even brighter in her eyes.

  “Just kiss me already, Carter.” Her voice is steady, and I know those words will forever change our relationship.

  So I do.

  Any willpower I had left vanishes the second my mouth makes contact with hers. Her lips are like a whole new world, begging to be explored, urging me on to learn everything there is about them.

  This feels good. So damn good. Maybe even too good.

  I can’t think clearly anymore, my mind completely taken over by everything Julia.

  She keeps making little noises in the back of her throat that spur me on even more. Our lips and tongues fight for dominance, unable to get enough of each other fast enough.

  Grabbing my shirt, she pulls me even closer, not that I’m complaining. This gets me exactly where I want to be, pressed as close to her as possible.

  My hard body pushing into her soft one.

  Her hands find their way into my hair, around my neck, and down my back, until it feels like she’s touching me everywhere. I know we’re both in trouble when she squeezes my ass, and I’m close to pulling her legs up around my waist.

  Loud catcalls around us snap me out of the fog, clearing my muddled brain enough to pull back.

  “Jules,” I whisper, waiting for her to open her eyes.

  When she finally does, a small smirk forms, her eyes shining with mirth.

  She takes my hand and starts pulling me away from the balcony. “Let’s go back to the hotel bar, Carter. I might need another drink.”

  How am I going to survive this woman?

  Chapter Eleven

  Julia

  The bar is more crowded than it was during my earlier visit with Marc, which makes sense. It’s now close to 10 p.m., meaning prime time is just starting in Vegas. People are everywhere, most bodies showing more skin than they’re hiding. Displaying your best attributes loud and proud definitely seems to be the theme in this city, even more so when the sun is down.

  By some luck, a couple leaves their spot at the bar just as we make it there, and we conveniently slip into the smooth leather chairs.

  Thankfully, the bartender spots us right away, and Carter orders two Long Island Iced Teas and some orange juice.

&
nbsp; What the heck?

  He looks at me and shrugs. “If there’s one thing you do even worse than drinking alcohol, it’s mixing alcohol. I’d rather have you drunk again than hanging over the toilet half the night.”

  “That only happened once years ago. How do you know all this stuff? You weren’t even at that party.” I give him a look, still more shaken up about that kiss than I’d like to admit.

  Because . . . Carter Kennedy just kissed me.

  Kissed. Me.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks at his hands, giving me a chance to study him without interruption. His jaw is clenched and his mouth is drawn into a tight line, making my body tingle. It’s hard to focus on much else at this point when I can still taste him on my lips. Even forming a coherent thought proves to be difficult with our kissing scene imprinted in my mind and on endless repeat.

  “I just do.” The words are barely a whisper as his gaze flicks back to me. Even in the dimmed light of the bar, his eyes flash brightly, the hunger I saw earlier easier to recognize now.

  Hunger for me.

  The thought alone makes me press my legs together and squirm in my seat.

  He’s watching me so intently I’m certain he knows exactly what’s going on with me.

  Reaching out, he brushes a lock of hair from my face. “What are you thinking about, Jules?”

  “You.”

  It’s official: my brain’s on vacation.

  What is it about this man?

  I’ve never been this bold. With anyone. Ever.

  Somehow I like it. A lot actually.

  “What about me?”

  The drinks arrive and after taking a sip of the orange juice—much to Carter’s delight—he plays with the rim of his glass, clearly toying with me.

  His eyes shine with amusement, and the smirk he gives me turns my mind into a buzzing mess of static. Looks like he’s challenging me just as much as I challenged him earlier.

  “Oh, Carter.” Usually, I’m not one for playing games, but doing this with him is a thrill I’ve never experienced before. It’s incredibly exciting, not to mention a major turn-on.