8. Carter

Chapter 8

Carter

“ D ex!” I shout. My left arm secures most of my weight as I lean out the door frame of my office, preparing to yell again if he doesn’t appear in the next five seconds.

“Yes, sir!” his voice booms from down the corridor.

Moments later, Dex waltzes out of his office on the left and makes his way toward me, grinning from ear to ear.

“Dexter, you are a right bastard. Have I ever told you that?”

Now standing before me, Dex throws a soft punch at my shoulder. “Only every day since college, mate.”

My eyes strain from the sheer force behind their roll, which sets off Dex’s laughter.

“Before you started your shit, I was going to ask if you wanted some lunch,” I say, turning to walk into my office and gesturing for Dex to follow, “but now I think I’ll revoke the offer.”?

“Oh, Mr Lawrence, you wound me.” Hand shooting to his chest, Dex lets out a groan. “How will I make it through the day?” He leans against the doorframe, his other arm flinging up and behind him in an overly extravagant gesture.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a fucking drama queen, Ford?” I can’t stop the incoming smile from pulling at my lips. The man is a twat, but fuck, I love him like a brother.

Straightening up, Dex pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. He rummages for a moment, then removes a ￡5 note and throws it onto my desk.

“I’ll take a Buffalo with a side of chips if that’s where you’re heading.” A wink in my direction, and he’s gone before the chuckle even leaves my mouth.

I’m apparently far too predictable because Dex correctly assumed I’d be heading to Honest Burgers to grab our lunch.

I take the bike to Camden. Parking here is shitty at the best of times, and frankly, I don’t have time to deal with the lunchtime influx. Thankfully, I manage to find a parking spot for the bike right outside the burger shop. Removing my helmet, I look through the windows and assess the situation. It looks relatively busy inside, which means I feel no guilt in making a pitstop nearby until the line dies down.

There are two places I frequent in Camden: the first being Honest Burgers and the second being a little bookstore. It’s no Waterstones, but its character is half the experience. I secure my helmet on my bike and head towards Chapter Nine. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Sliding it out, I see my sister’s name across the screen.

“Hi, little sis,” I answer with a grin, rounding the corner.?

We chat for a little as I continue walking. As I reach the bookstore door, Emilia finally reveals the reason for her call.?

“So, how are you since ending it with Molly?”?

I chuckle, feeling the corners of my eyes wrinkle. Trust my little sister to check in on me after a break up—if you could even call it that. “I’m doing just fine Emmy, but thank you for checking.” The bell chimes above my head on entry, and I head down the first aisle.

I stroll aimlessly through the aisles, absent-mindedly picking up and putting back down books, vaguely aware there’s no one behind the counter.

“Oh, Carts, are you sure?” The worry in her voice causes my heart to ache faintly.

“Certain. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Alright done. It’s not you I’m worried about anymore.” I let out a small laugh as she continues, her tone more humourous. “I’m just disappointed I won’t have a sister anytime soon. But I suppose it’s okay. I’ve got the girls, so they’ll do for now. I do just want you to be happy though, you know that, right?”

Wandering over to the Staff Picks section near the front of the store, a small smile crosses my lips. “Always, Em.”?

“Okay good, be?—"

Emilia doesn’t have the chance to finish her sentence as I let out an obnoxious “Ha!”

“What was that for?” my sister asks, confusion apparent.

“I’m at the bookstore, and you won’t believe what’s on the Staff Picks shelf,” I say, incredulous. I pick the book up carefully as if it will bite me if handled incorrectly.

“What is it?” Emilia asks.

“It’s paper porn Emmy, right up your alley. What the fuck?”

Emilia’s answering laugh carries through the phone.

“I’m not joking, Emilia. It has a half-naked man on the fucking cover, smack bang in the middle of the display.”

My sister’s laugh stops as she gasps. “Oh, those are always the spiciest!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I respond. This was certainly not Riss’ doing, so who the fuck has she employed? Obviously, someone with absolutely no respect for the written word.

Before Emilia replies, I see movement in my peripherals. Turning towards the counter, I lock eyes with the woman behind it. I’ve never seen her before, of that I am certain. No one would ever forget her if they had. My mouth is dry, and I audibly swallow.?

My sister's voice breaks through my trance, and I hastily turn back to the shelf, returning the book to its place.

“Carter, I have to go, the pub is calling me. Love you, talk soon.”

“Love you too,” is all I manage before the call ends.

I turn back towards the counter, once again locking eyes with one of the most breathtaking women I’ve seen. Her face looks simultaneously young and mature; I’d guess she’s somewhere in her early to mid-twenties.

She has delicate features, with perfectly straight brunette and blonde strands framing her face. Where the brunette section nearest the crown of her head is almost a chocolate brown, deep and smooth, the blonde ends are light and honey-like. Her lips are plump and pink, coated with a gloss that makes them look downright kissable; her mouth slightly agape. She’s as caught off guard by me as I am by her.

Only her top half is visible, with the large counter obscuring my view of the rest of her. She isn’t overly tall, perhaps 5ft. 4 inches. A bright red knit hides her shape, and dainty gold earrings hang from her earlobes. I can’t quite make out what they say, but they appear to be words, or at least letters.

Realising I’m probably staring, I offer her a small smile. She returns it, picking up the book she had lying on the counter. I can see a bookmark in it, so I walk closer to her.

“What are you reading?”? I ask. My hands rest on the counter, and I lean my weight on them. Too late. I realise I probably appear as though I’m attempting to cage her in. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and I wonder what’s going through her mind.

“Oh, a romance book. It’s probably not quite your style.”

The accent surprises me. She’s Australian? Unexpected.

“Try me.” My lips pull into a broad smile, hers only half as wide.

“It’s called Dirty Truths. It’s my Staff Pick.” The alluring woman in front of me gestures to the stand I’d been in front of moments ago, and the pieces fall into place.

My eyes flit to the ceiling, and I scoff. This makes sense now. Of course she’s the one who picked it; Riss would never choose to show off something like that. I knew the blue-eyed beauty standing before me was too good to be true.

Her eyes widen again, and this time there’s no questioning what she’s thinking—she’s shocked and, quite frankly, pissed. As quickly as they’d enlarged, they’re now narrowing in on me.

“Excuse me?” Her brows drawn dangerously close together. I blink. Was my scoff not clear enough?

“You can’t be serious,” I say simply, gesturing toward the book.

“And why not?” She is serious. Jesus fucking Christ. I hadn’t planned on getting into an argument about paper porn today, but it seems the universe had other plans for me.

“Well, for one,” I begin, holding up a finger for each of my arguments. “That’s hardly a book, let alone something that should be promoted as a Staff Pick. Secondly, it certainly is not a romance novel, and labelling it as such is insulting to the entire romance genre. Lastly,” I say as my middle finger unfolds to meet my thumb and forefinger, “it’s porn on paper.”

The woman is still staring at me, her eyes only narrowing further with each finger I raise. Once I finish, she relaxes the crease between her eyebrows and cocks her head sideways.

“Let me guess,” she finally says, the corners of her lips pulling up in a condescending smirk. “You read classics?” With the way her tone rises at the end, I assume it’s a question.

“Yes, I do. Is that a crime?”

This time, it’s her throat emitting the scoff.

She doesn’t speak. I watch as her eyes rake slowly and deliberately up my body before landing on my own. My dick twitches in my trousers, apparently under the impression this attention is a good thing.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she beams at me. “Well, that tells me all I need to know.”

I drop down onto my elbows, my eye line almost level with hers. Her eyes are what caught my attention initially. From afar, they were striking. But up close? They’re something else entirely—the most unusual shade of blue. They are icy blue nearest her pupils but have a surprisingly thick ring of ocean blue encompassing the irises. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and I’m mesmerised by her almost immediately.

“And what would that be?” I ask, my voice dropping ever so slightly. She must notice because I glimpse her breath hitch. It’s almost indiscernible, but it’s enough to draw my gaze to the slight parting of her lips.

My facial muscles strain under the pressure as I fight to keep my expression neutral. Returning the gesture, I let my own eyes lazily roam over the top half of her body.

Her chest rises and falls heavier than before. I don’t let my gaze linger, instead returning to meet her eyes. I register the way her pupils have dilated dramatically, the darker blue ring around them almost non-existent.

Fuck me, she really is a sight.

I’ve met a lot of beautiful women in my 29 years, but there’s something about this one that has me captivated entirely. But that doesn’t negate the fact she has absolutely no taste when it comes to literature, which simply won’t do.

Straightening to her full—albeit still small—height, she keeps her eyes trained on mine. “The only men who are intolerant of open-door romance novels are those who are intimidated by them.” The word romance is practically spat at me. This only makes me grin in return. One look at the way her face drops tells me that wasn’t the desired outcome. Game on.

Breaking eye contact, I notice the name badge attached to her blouse.

Lara.

“Lara, this has been delightful.”

I see the confusion in her eyes as I turn and make my way towards the door. Poor thing clearly forgot she’s wearing a name badge.

As I exit, the cool air feels like a bucket of water being thrown in my face. It wasn’t that warm in the store, was it? Making my way back down the street and towards the burger shop, I replay the last ten minutes in my mind.?

What the fuck just happened? I don’t remember the last time, if ever, I had such a reaction to a woman. She rendered me speechless for a moment, at least until she opened her mouth and defended the monstrosity that is smut.