“Mmm.” Carson pushed up and watched her eyes as he pulled out slowly. “Sore?”
“A little.”
“Maybe I’ll have to kiss it and make it better later.”
Her belly flipped. “Okay.”
Carson grinned. “Liked that, didja?”
Even though she was naked just talking about that made her blush and she wanted to turn her head away to hide how much she’d loved that. Or if—when—he’d want her to do the same thing to him. Her gaze slid to his groin. He was still sort of hard. Which made her curious as to what it looked like when it wasn’t hard.
His fingers slipped under her chin, forcing her attention on him. “Got a mighty interesting look on that beautiful face. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
She squirmed beneath his scrutiny.
“Tell me.”
“Do you want me to do that to you?” she blurted out.
Carson’s eyes widened and then turned fiery hot. “You tryin’ to kill me, woman?”
“N-no, but I thought—”
“Yes, I can’t wait to see these lips around my cock. But I ain’t gonna push you. So how about you let me know when you’re ready to try it.”
“Okay.”
“Get dressed before I crawl back in there with you.”
Carolyn couldn’t take her eyes off Carson as he put his clothes back on. It was just as intimate getting dressed together as it’d been getting undressed together.
As soon as they were fully clothed, Carson pulled her into his arms and just held her. No ravenous kisses, no roaming hands. His need for such simple contact with her sent her spiraling to the point of no return.
She knew then that she loved him. After less than a week.
It didn’t feel wrong. Or impulsive. It felt like she’d found where she belonged.
He kissed her forehead. “I probably better go.”
“I thought I was fixing you lunch?” Clasping his hand, she led him to the kitchen. “How about a sandwich? Ham salad on rye bread with pickles?”
“Sounds good. Way better than the bologna or peanut butter and jelly I usually have.”
“There are days when that’s all I want.” Carolyn took everything out of the fridge and started assembling three sandwiches.
“Can I ask you something? Is it hard goin from livin’ in a dorm and havin’ all your meals prepared for you, to comin’ back here and makin’ three meals a day for your whole family?”
She shrugged. “It’s what I’m used to. And without sounding flip, isn’t that what all girls are expected to do? Learn to cook by our mother’s side so we can take care of our own families? I’ll bet your mom cooked for you.”
“There was always food on the table when we were hungry and I didn’t think much about it beyond that.”
“That’s how most men are.”
“Do you like cookin’?”
Carolyn met his gaze. “I love it. There’s something very satisfying about making an entirely new dish or hearing how much a meal is enjoyed.” Feeling silly, she looked back down at her sandwich.
Carson’s callused hand caressed hers. “Hey. You seem embarrassed by that. Why?”
“Some of my friends at school, they want to be nurses and teachers. A couple girls are going to beauty school to become hairdressers. My roommate, Mary Catherine, is attending college to become a lawyer. The wild girl in our class, Mary Claire, is moving to the east coast to become a stewardess. And then there’s me.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t have those kinds of aspirations.”
A pause. “And they all think you oughta be like them?”
She nodded and sliced a pickle in half. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing at the end of the summer. Everyone said it’d be a waste if I live at home and do all the household stuff for my family. My friend Cathy has asked me to move to Chicago. I could live with her and get a job as a seamstress or in a sewing factory.”
“Do you want to live in the big city?”
“I don’t know. My Aunt Hulda has offered me a fulltime job this fall. She pays me pretty well and I’ve learned so much from her.”
“Wait. She pays you to work for her?”
Carolyn looked up at him with a scowl. “Of course she pays me. She didn’t expect me to work for free.” Even when her aunt footed the bill for Carolyn’s Catholic education, she believed in “funding Carolyn’s future”, which would give her options.
“Sorry if you took offense to that.” Carson blocked her against the counter. “The reason you don’t complain about cookin’ and cleanin’, and havin’ a garden is because you really like doin’ that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Everyone says it makes me naïve because if I don’t expand my horizons, how will I know if I really like it or not? But I do like it.”
“Don’t listen to them people. They don’t matter. They ain’t livin’ your life; you are.” He caressed her face with the back of his hand and his eyes were so soft, but his face was so fierce with intent that she felt herself melting into him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are mature beyond your years. You’ve had no choice but to grow up fast and be responsible. There should be pride in that. There should be pride in all the things you do for your family—because you like doin’ them. Anyone who tries to shame you for that ain’t worth your time.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Carson peered over her shoulder. “That sandwich almost looks too pretty to eat.”
She gently shunted him aside. “I’ll get the plates.”
They didn’t talk much while they were eating.
After they finished, Carson said, “Best lunch I’ve ever had.” He grinned. “The appetizer was tasty too.”
She blushed.
“As much as I hate to eat and run, I gotta git.” He snagged her hand. “Walk me out to the truck and make me all sorts of promises about when I can see you next, because if you don’t, I’m afraid I ain’t gonna leave.”
Outside Carson leaned against the driver’s side of his truck and pulled her close so she rested against him completely. Then he scrambled her brain with a kiss so steamy she felt him getting hard against her belly.
That’s when he broke the kiss and rubbed his damp lips across her temple. “Thank you for today but when can I see you tomorrow?”