“Okay,” she soothed. “But you should know there really is no need to—”
His patience snapped, his words bursting from him in a sharp rush. “For Christ’s sake, I’m a criminal, Peaches. Of course there’s reason to worry.”
He didn’t mean to bite, but he was beyond edgy. His spine was wired and his stomach was in knots, twisting frequently between fear and panic. Yeah, he was a fucking mess.
Kat remained silent.
He was instantly contrite. “Look, shit, I’m sorry, baby—”
“No, it’s all right,” Kat interrupted. “This is a big deal for you. I’m sorry I’ve not addressed that properly, I really am.” Her sincerity made his chest tight. “Just say the word and I’ll turn the car around. If this is too much for you, I don’t want you to feel this uncomfortable.”
What the hell had he done to deserve her?
“I don’t want you to turn the car around.” He breathed deeply, turning in his seat to see her better. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but I want to be with you this weekend.” Carter ran his free hand across his head. “I just want your grandmother to see I’m not just a …” He swirled his fingers toward his chest, thinking of a list of not-too-nice adjectives. “You know, and that I care about you.”
Kat slowed the car as they approached a junction. “She will. My grandmother is the very best person I know. She doesn’t judge.”
She laid her palm against Carter’s neck, running her thumb along his jaw. “We can just be us. You and me.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
* * *
They were only twenty minutes from the house when Carter’s gut began to do backflips. His back was also all kinds of fucking sweaty, which was ridiculous considering it was colder than a witch’s tit outside the car. It’d even snowed a little.
“You feel okay?”
Carter rested his head back, watching Kat drive. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured, pressing his cheek against the headrest. “I’m just gonna watch you until we get there.”
She smiled with her eyes still on the road. “Like when you have a flu shot, huh?”
Carter frowned. “What?”
Kat glanced in the rearview, changing lanes. “When I was a little girl, my dad took me for my shots, and he’d always say that if I didn’t look, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. It wasn’t as scary if you couldn’t see it comin’.” She smiled again, her eyes wistful. “I’d hide in his neck and pray for it to be over.”
“Did it work?”
“Every time.”
The sides of his mouth lifted. She’d spoken a lot about her father since they’d left New York. Carter couldn’t deny he would like to have met Daniel Lane, regardless of how the man would have reacted to Carter dating his daughter.
“Do you think …?” Carter wrapped his thumb around the side of Kat’s little finger hopefully. “Do you think that he would have liked me?”
Kat pulled to a stop, as the lights changed to red, and turned to face him. “I think you and my father are more alike than even I realize. I think he would have thought you were awesome.”
God, he wished that were true enough to erase the dark fear lurking just beneath his skin. “You do?”
“Yeah,” she answered with no hint of doubt in her voice. “I do. Kiss me?”
Carter moved so their lips met. Keeping his eyes open, he watched Kat’s roll back into her head. He let the tip of his tongue trace her bottom lip and sighed when she pulled back and continued to drive.
“I don’t remember having my shots,” he confessed quietly.
Kat glanced at him. “You don’t?”
He shook his head, trying to recollect.
Kat scrunched her shoulders, making her voice bright and indifferent, but Carter knew she was feeling sorry for him. The sympathy prickled his skin like a nettle sting, making his molars grind.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kat offered. “Having shots is awful.”
It seemed like such a ridiculous thing to want to remember. He exhaled hard at the memories he did have. Hurt. Tears. Isolation. Hate. Fuck it, he thought, when the anger began to rise. There was no changing his past; he had to look forward, and having Kat at his side was one giant leap in the right direction. He squeezed her leg, his fingers whispering over the denim seam running up the inside of her thigh.
“Carter?” She swallowed.
He smiled. “Yeah?”
“We’re here.”
Carter snapped his head around to see a huge redbrick house appearing at the end of a long stone driveway, surrounded by gardens. Carter’s heart gave a resounding kick behind his ribs. He was suddenly desperate for a cigarette. Frantically patting himself down, he found the pack of smokes in his jeans pocket and swallowed in relief. Thank God.
Unexpectedly, a terrible thought crossed his mind: Shit, what if Kat’s grandmother hated smokers?
“Carter?”
Kat’s voice sounded miles away and when he turned to look at her, Carter had the oddest sensation that he was floating underwater, unable to breathe.
Kat unclipped her seat belt. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
Carter rubbed the center of his chest, willing his airways to open up. It didn’t help. A wave of cold sweat crashed over him, shooting down his back like icy claws. He couldn’t breathe. Christ. His lungs were seizing.
What was he doing? Why had he agreed to this fuckery? He didn’t do this. He didn’t meet families. It was laughable, really, thinking Kat’s grandmother would accept him. She’d never accept him because he wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough.
Stupid, stupid idiot.
“Hey,” Kat said, pulling his hands from his face to her lap.
“Kat, I—I’m not …” He gasped. “I can’t.”
“You’re fine, Carter. I’m here and you’re fine.” Kat put her hands on his neck and rubbed his pulse points with the pads of her thumbs. “Tell me,” she murmured, kissing the fingertips of his right hand. “Tell me you know what you mean to me.”
His lungs shuddered. “I know. I know. But I—”
Her forehead met his, holding it up, holding him up. “No. No buts. That’s all you have to think about.”
See? her tone whispered. Easy.
With three deep breaths, Carter’s pulse slowed. Focusing on her fingers drawing circles on his skin, he managed to sit up a little straighter. He had to get a grip. He couldn’t allow his fear to be the first thing Kat’s grandmother would see. No way.
He moved forward, capturing Kat’s lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Are you okay now?”
He dropped his gaze to the floor of the car. “Just don’t leave me, okay?”
“I won’t,” Kat said fervently, dismissing his neediness as quickly as he offered it. “Come on.”
Before Carter could stop her, she was getting out of the car and bouncing excitedly around the hood.
“Here goes fuckin’ nothing.” Carter opened the car door and got out.
He shut the car door and pushed his hands into his pockets against the cold air and the sudden, colder memories of his own mother’s house, the foreboding that settled in his bones every time he was dropped off at the front door and the look on her face when she opened it, regretful and inconvenienced. Christ, he’d just been a kid, scared shitless and alone. He swallowed and fought the memories back. They were soon forgotten when the front door opened and a huge black-and-white dog came bounding out, tongue flopping and tail wagging.
* * *
“Reggie!” Kat squealed and crouched down to him. He whined and barked in happiness.
She rubbed the mutt’s belly until his back legs were scratching and kicking up like a lunatic. “I missed you, too,” she cooed.
“Kat!”
She looked up to see Nana Boo, dressed in a huge parka and mittens, hurrying from the door, looking as wonderful as she always did. Trevor, her help, followed with a warm smile.