What would it be like just to have an everyday conversation with her? The day she’d spoken about her father and the book he read to her was one of the best days he’d had inside Kill. He’d gotten a glimpse of the Kat Lane who existed outside of the prison walls, and now that he, too, was outside, he wanted very much to see more.
What might her reaction be if he asked her some more personal questions? Only questions about her likes and dislikes, not like her bra size or anything—though he’d wondered about that shit, too. They looked like they would fit in his hands perfectly. His body immediately reacted to that particular thought, which was more than a little embarrassing when he was surrounded by a bunch of guys.
His body still seemed to find it impossible to settle down when he was around her or when he thought about her. Regardless, as much as he would have loved to suggest they just get fucking down to it, he knew she wasn’t that type of girl. He was fairly certain that if he ever heard of any man treating her that way, he would have no problem with fucking. Their. Shit. Up.
His possessiveness could be a problem.
“Carter?”
He came from his thoughts and looked at Cam, who was motioning toward the entrance of the body shop.
“There’s a guy here to see you, man.”
“Who?” Carter asked, putting his coffee down.
Cam shrugged. “No clue. He just said he needed to talk to you urgently.”
“Don’t they all.”
He stopped midstride when he saw who was waiting for him on the sidewalk outside the shop, in a suit that must have cost at least two thousand dollars. Carter cursed and rubbed his palm down his face in aggravation.
“Austin Ford.”
Austin nodded. “Carter.”
There was a moment of overwrought stillness while the two men observed each other. Impatient as always, Carter was the first to break it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with an incensed shake of his head.
“You haven’t been returning any of our calls,” Austin answered, his tone calm and arrogant.
“You dipshits can’t bully me on the phone, so you decide to come down and do it in person?” he retorted.
“We’re not bullying you, Carter. These papers need signing.”
Carter pulled his smokes from his back pocket and lit one, taking a huge drag. He pointed at Austin with the cigarette still between his fingers. “Those papers were drawn up without my consent as a way of shifting me out of the picture. That, my friend, is fucking bullying: underhanded, conceited bullying.”
“Carter.” Austin rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You don’t want anything to do with the company. You’ve said that time and time again, yet when we offer you a way out, you dig in your heels and say no.”
“Bullshit,” Carter snapped. “You’re offering me a way out because the Fords are scared shitless that WCS shareholders will find out your company is owned by a criminal. Ironic, really, when you consider the men you’ve been making deals with. Casari ring any bells?”
Austin’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Carter. Rumors aside, we’re family—”
Carter’s eyes blazed. “Don’t play the family card with me, Austin.” He flicked his cigarette away, missing Austin’s left arm by millimeters. “You weren’t my fucking family when I was doing time in prison, so don’t pretend you give a shit now!”
Austin held his hands up in submission. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
“No,” Carter continued, stepping toward him. “You don’t get it. We may be related, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t think twice about laying your ass out, right here and now, just on general principle.”
Austin refused to back down, even when Carter was nose to nose with him. “That wouldn’t be too good for your parole, now, would it?”
“Fuck you, you sanctimonious shit,” Carter hissed. “Don’t stand there looking down your nose at me like you’re cleaner than a nun’s bedsheets. I could make one phone call about your dealings with Casari and the Feds would be all over your ass.”
“And of course you have proof about Casari and me, right?”
The two men glared at each other, neither blinking nor stepping back.
“We okay here?”
Austin’s eyes flickered toward Max, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his wide chest.
“Yeah,” Carter answered, never taking his eyes from Austin’s face. “My cousin was just leaving.”
Austin exhaled in resignation. “Think about what I said, Carter. We’ll be in touch.” He headed back across the street to his car.
Carter watched the car pull away, then turned to Max with a face like thunder.
“What the fuck was he doing here?” Max asked with raised eyebrows.
Carter slumped against the wall next to him. “They’re still tryin’ to buy me out.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him to go fuck himself,” Carter replied with a shrug.
Max bumped his shoulder. “That’s my boy.”
Carter cracked a smile, allowing his body to calm down.
Fucking family? What the hell did Austin know about being family?
The Fords were all the same. All they cared about was getting their hands on his money and having more power. And as much as Carter despised every cent that entered his Swiss bank account every month, he wasn’t about to slink off like some black sheep just because the Fords wanted him to.
Suddenly he bolted upright, wide-eyed and frantic. “Shit!” He patted his chest and jeans pockets as though searching for something. “What time is it?”
“It’s three forty-five, man, why? Where’s the fire?”
“Fuck!” Carter cried, running full speed back into the shop to grab his bag and keys. “I’m fucking late! I’m late!”
He pulled on his leather jacket and shades, and ran back out of the shop toward Kala. “My session!” he called back to Max, then pulled on his helmet and threw his leg over the bike. “I’m late and I said I wouldn’t be! I told her I wouldn’t be!”
“Oh, the tutor,” Max replied as Carter steered the rumbling bike onto the road with his feet. “Hey, if you’re not interested, tell her I’ll show her a damned good time! I always had a thing for redheads.”
He laughed when Carter flicked him the finger before revving the Harley and speeding off like a bat out of hell.
* * *
Kat drummed her nails on the library table in annoyance, wondering why the hell she’d thought Carter had meant it when he’d said that he would be on time.
Oh yes—because she was stupid.
She was stupid for thinking he’d be on time. She was stupid for looking forward to their time together and resenting him for cutting it short. And she was really stupid for having taken time to reapply a little lip gloss before she reached the library.
She pulled the copy of Walter the Lazy Mouse he’d given her out of her bag and reread the note he’d written. “No matter what the obstacles …”
Well, she thought dryly, the biggest obstacle right now was the fact that the guy would be late to his own funeral. She closed the book and glanced at the clock once again. Four ten. She’d waited thirty minutes the last session. She’d wait twenty this time. She picked up her phone, checking for any messages or missed calls from him. Nothing. The only text she had was from Austin, telling her to have a good day and asking if she had plans on Saturday.
She heaved a sigh, avoiding looking across at the shelves of books where Carter’s large, strong, muscular arm had grabbed her and held her so deliciously—
“Dammit!” She dropped her forehead on the table. “It’s just a stupid crush. Get a grip. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean you—”
“Who’s pretty?”
Oh. Holy. Shit.
Kat sat up very, very slowly.
“My … shoes,” she answered, extending her foot so Carter could see the gunmetal-gray Gucci pump. “Aren’t they pretty?” She kept her eyes on her shoes, trying to calm her racing heart.
Carter cocked puzzled eyebrows above eyes that raked over the foot, ankle, and leg she was showing him. “Um, they’re not really my style, but, yeah, great.” He pulled off his jacket and flung it over the back of his seat, grimacing. “So, I know I’m late. And I know I said I wouldn’t be.”