Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Lacey

I thought I would sleep fitfully after such a stressful evening, but I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don't remember Carter coming in, but the dent in his pillow would indicate otherwise.

Cherishing the solitude, I decide on a plan to make this vacation one all of them will remember. I tiptoe to the door and lock it before grabbing my phone to work out the details.

With my tasks now complete, I throw on my shorts and a T-shirt and go down into the kitchen where there's coffee. No one is inside as I pour a large cup, then I follow the voices outside to the place where my three housemates appear.

I quietly slip into a chair beside Carter and sip the dark brew silently, fighting a smile as they carry on about football. I wait patiently while they each announce their plans for the day.

"I'm going to take Marisol to the airport," Declan says. I'd rather not have to deal with her the rest of the week."

"Thank you, son. I'm not sure she'd have a good time, anyway. I can't picture her playing mini-golf." Rose takes a deep breath and lets it out as she stands. "I'm going to wash this cup, then take a nap. Someone wake me up in an hour or so, okay? I'm tired but I don't want to sleep away the days."

"Go rest," Carter says, his tone much softer than it's been in days.

When everyone's done, and disappeared from the porch, I capture Carter's attention.

"Take a walk with me?"

"Sure." He nods.

We walk together hand in hand across the beach until we reach the water, silently enjoying the pleasure of each other's company as we stroll. Then something beautiful catches my eye.

"Look!" I gasp and run ahead of him as a wave throws a piece of sea glass onto the beach. Another wave makes an attempt to reclaim it, but I chase after it and pluck it from the sand. I rinse the beautiful blue piece and run back to Carter to show him my treasure.

Directing his attention to my unfolding fingers, I show him the gem in my hand. "I like it. It's perfect."

"At least something is," Carter mutters and my suspicions are confirmed that his thoughts are elsewhere.

I purse my lips. "Don't brood."

"Right." He glances at me with sadness in his eyes. "It's not that easy."

As I walk with him I dig into the wet sand with my foot and then fling it back into the water. It puts me a few steps behind him so I run to catch up, then loop my arm through his. "Are you okay? Last night was heavy."

"No, Lace, I'm not." Emotion cracks his voice as he gives air to my thoughts. "Aside from wanting my mom perfectly well, I also want you to marry me. I get why you turned me down, but I'm not okay with it."

He looks past me, then turns, pointing himself in another direction. I follow.

"I'm going to need you to stop walking."

He ignores me, his stride covering more distance than my short little legs can muster, and I break into a race-walk just to keep up.

He keeps moving ahead, as if putting some distance between us will somehow soothe his pain.

"Carter ..." My tone is gentle but persistent.

"What?" He chokes out the word then stops abruptly, giving me such an intense look that I can almost feel his pain.

"I have a proposal for you."

He rolls his eyes and rears back. "Riiiiiiight." His sardonic tone reveals unmistakable thoughts.

"I'm serious," I affirm, my eyes never leaving his.

"And you weren't serious yesterday? That's rich."

I take his arm. I can barely look into his eyes because I know I'm partly to blame for the pain I see there, but I also see a love that won't let me pull away.

"I'm going to make this short and sweet—and it's a true proposal. A bargain. I will marry you."

His brow hikes and he waits patiently for me to continue.

"I'll do it if you go to counseling."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and I get a glimpse of the Carter I fell in love with. His smile turns wicked. "Is that a bribe I hear, Miss? You know you can get into a world of trouble for bribing a cop."

"Maybe I like trouble," I coyly respond.

He steps toward me, closing our distance. "You're a bad girl, Lacey Michelle," his tone is low, like a growl, sending sexy chills down my spine.

"No one but you and my mother have used both my name and tone so effectively," I respond, my voice just a hint above a whisper. "I'll risk a little trouble to make my point."

He hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me tightly against his body, making my breath hitch as desire rushes to my core. "State your case, woman."

I quickly rearrange my thoughts which tumbled like a fast-falling Jenga game the minute his lips came close to mine.

"What's coming up with Rose is going to be hard. I know because of what I went through with my mother."

"And?" his arm tightens.

"You're going to need your head on straight and your thoughts aligned for her. I think I can help."

"How so?" He gives me a wary look.

"Marry me. Marry me now." I take a breath. "My only condition is that you agree to counseling for your OCD."

He gives me a look of disbelief, as his warm breath skates across my lips. "You're serious?"

"It's a good proposal," I answer breathlessly. "You won't get a better one."

He studies me, then lets me go, and continues walking along the shore, but this time the water rolls over his feet.

"It's not possible, Lacey. Mom said she is going to see the doctor as soon as we get back."

"Agree, Carter." My tone is firm. "Trust me, and agree."

He stops to study me. "You sound like my mother. Hardheaded."

A flicker of happiness rushes through me. "To me, being compared to your mother is high praise that I'll take and, yes, I am as hardheaded as she is." I feel I'm about to burst from the exciting news, and I hope and pray he'll agree. "We can get married now. Here. I spoke with the pastor at St. Matthew's by the Sea. If we get the marriage license tomorrow he can perform the ceremony on Friday—if you agree."

His expression is soft and contemplative and in stark contrast with the determined look in his eyes.

An unsure weight lifts from my chest. "What I'm proposing is rushed and chaotic and completely spontaneous, feelings of which you aren't familiar. And I get that you don't like spontaneity but, if you agree, I think I can offer something that will make you happy."

"This Friday? The night before we leave?"

"Why not? We can do it right on the beach with the people who mean the most." I pull my hair over my shoulder and twist it in my hands.

"Who will stand for you?" He asks warily.

"Your mother, of course." The easy confidence rolls off my tongue.

"Woman. You really don't care if things are perfect do you?"

I give my head a subtle shake. "Nothing's perfect, Carter."

"What about flowers? A cake? Your dress?" A surge of emotion weaves through his tone.

"Since you're Mr. Perfection, I'll leave that to you."

His eyes widen. "You'd let me do that?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Why not?" I shrug nonchalantly. Suddenly, the air feels lighter, like it's easier to breathe. "I'll go with your mom and choose a few dresses, and let you pick from the selection. You might see the dress but you won't see me in it before the ceremony."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. You know my favorite flowers and my favorite flavor cake. What more is there?"

"Rings?"

"There are jewelry stores here."

"Music?"

"We'll use our phone and Bluetooth what we want."

His posture goes slack. "There are other things, like photos and food." He pauses then looks me dead in the eye. "You're really serious."

"As a heart attack." I smile.

As I lay in Carter's embrace I can't help the contentment I feel. There's a sense of safety in his arms. No one else has ever made me feel so cherished and so loved. His arms are strong and firm around me, as if I'm his most precious treasure. Though his controlling tendencies can feel overwhelming at times, when we're like this, they make me feel nothing but protected. I have no reservations about allowing him to arrange our wedding. He always seems to know exactly what I need and, in more ways than one, is more than willing to give it to me.

He pulls me close and his arm tightens around my waist. I close my eyes, savoring the feel of my body and his spooned together. His lips touch my neck and my eyes roll back, a wave of desire washing over me.

Warmth radiates from his body as his hard length presses into my backside. I arch back, my head resting against his shoulder as I twist to look at him.

No words are spoken as he captures my chin and crashes his lips to mine. This man loves control and, especially in this, I love his dominance. It comforts me.

As he releases my chin his fingertips roam. He teases my nipple before dipping lower and I gasp as his hand reaches my core. Plunging deep inside me, a surge of wetness coats his eager fingers, and he plays as my body sings.

"Come for me, Lacey Michelle." His hot breath singes my neck and I moan into his mouth as my body responds.

"That's my girl. Let it go."

The rumble of his voice trembles my insides and the room slowly fades away. I'm lost in a sea of pleasure as he takes me wave upon wave.

"You're more than life to me. I'll spend every last day of it devoted to you."

He drags out his movements with measured beats until, ever so slowly, I descend the heights of pleasure. Every muscle relaxes and every troubled thought rests.

This man is better than anyone I know and so much more than I deserve. With each question and answer the thought of him creating something beautiful for me brings me joy. After all, I'm surrendering the most important day of my life to someone who thrives on having control. I can see by his expression he's happy. What he thought was unfixable is, truly, within his power to create, and he will.