34
HELLO, MR. INCREDIBLE
Olivia
EVER LET SOMEONE BLINDFOLD YOU and fuck you into oblivion?
If it’s not on your bucket list, add it right now. Trust me.
I feel wrecked beyond belief, my muscles groaning with a dull ache as I stretch. And this mattress? A-fucking-plus. Add an obsessed hulk of a man to the mix, and I’m sure I transcended.
Music oats up the stairs along with the clang of dishes, the smell of
something both sweet and savory.
And singing. Carter is singing.
I op over with a happy sigh, not even taking up a quarter of the giant bed when I starsh in the center of it.
I might, uh… somehow be in love already. Except I don’t think I simply fell. I tripped over my own two feet and face-planted in it.
Heavy footsteps thud up the stairs, Carter’s voice coming closer, singing a
familiar tune.
“My girl! Do-do-do-do-do!”
He pops his head in the room with a grin so saucy and charming, and I bury my face in my hands and curl over my legs as hopeless, embarrassing giggles burst from my belly.
“Quit your laughing,” he orders, strolling across the room.
Naked. Stark naked. Holding a tray of food.
Also, he’s naked.
“You’re naked.” I’m gaping.
He points to the ridiculous chef’s hat on his head that I nearly missed due to his awless nakedness. “Nuh-uh. Got a hat on.”
“Uh-huh…” I’m not staring at the hat.
“I see you’re staring at Mr. Incredible.”
“You’re so vain it’s incredible.”
He sets the tray on my lap, leaning in for a slow, soft kiss.
“What’s this?” My heart warms at the sight before me. “You made me breakfast?”
He runs a palm over his proud chest, nodding. “Uh-huh.” He swipes a piece of bacon o one plate that appears to hold at least an entire pound of it, placing the tip in my mouth before he devours the rest of it. “Bacon because you love it.
Fruit and yogurt because they’re sweet like you. Blueberry bagel with cinnamon spread because Cara said it’s your favorite. And tea because coee makes your stomach hurt.”
“I l-l-l…—” Oh my. Oh my shit. Balls. Oh my shit balls. I almost said it. Out loud.
Carter lifts an amused brow, looking smugger than he ever has. “You l-l-l?”
“I—” ail a hand around, apparently—“love this!” That’s the best I can come up with? “I’m just overwhelmed by the thoughtful breakfast, and you’re…” I gesture at his body. “Naked.”
Carter plants his hands on his hips, swiveling. He sure likes to swing that thing around. “Is my nakedness distracting you?”
“I couldn’t spell the word if you asked me to while looking at that.”
“Mmm.” He swipes a smear of cinnamon spread o the plate and brushes it over my lips, eyes glazing as I lick it o. “I like when I render you speechless.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Carter collapses next to me, munching bacon while he watches me eat, head propped up in his hand, elbow on the mattress. The cinnamon spread is warm and melty on my bagel, and when I bite into it, it dribbles down my chin, dripping over the swell of my left breast.
His eyes hood, and when I go to wipe it o me, he snatches my wrist. “Don’t you dare,” he whisper-growls. “Mine.”
He rolls to his feet, plucks the tray o my lap, sets it on the oor, dive-bombs the bed, and devours every inch of me three times over. When we nally make it back to breakfast, the food is cold, my bagel is hard, and there’s not a single part of me that cares. In fact, by the time he drops me o at the arena for my girls’ hockey game, I’ve had three orgasms, earned a McDonald’s breakfast, and a pat- pat on my ass when I get out of the car.
“Was that Carter Beckett?” Alannah whispers when I meet her at the front door, eyes wide with wonder as she stares at Carter’s SUV pulling out of the parking space. He smiles and waves and Alannah jumps up and down, arms ailing as she waves back. “It’s him, it’s him, it’s him!” she shrieks at her dad, giving him a violent shake.
Jeremy rolls his eyes. “It’s him, it’s him. Woo-hoo.”
“Please do try to contain your enthusiasm, Jeremy.” I pull a gift from my bag and hand it to Alannah. “This is for you, from Carter.”
She unravels the small jersey. “To Alannah. Hustle hard, hip check harder.
Carter Beckett.” She clutches it to her chest. “Omigod, omigod!”
Jeremy’s still unimpressed, but holds one expectant hand out to me.
I arch a brow. “Can I help you?”
“Where’s mine?”
“Your what?”
“My… my jersey.” He gapes. “You… didn’t you… you didn’t—”
I grin, shoving his jersey at his chest.
He holds it in front of his face as he reads, which sucks, because now I can’t see his expression. “To Jeremy. Don’t be an asshole to your sister. Carter Beckett.” He drops the shirt across his hips, giving me a clear view of his face, which is… ecstatic. “Oh my God. He signed my jersey. Carter Beckett signed my
jersey!”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
I’M AT LEAST FIVE POUNDS heavier than when I walked in here. Which was approximately seven minutes ago. Seem impossible? Nothing’s impossible with Cara.
“Do we need all these snacks?” The box of Milk Duds shoved in my coat pocket wiggles free, and I trap it against my side with my elbow, waddling down our row. I’ve got a can of beer in my other pocket, Twizzlers in my back pocket, another beer in my right hand, and one arm wrapped around a bag of popcorn.
“It seems a little excessive.”
“What a ridiculous question.” Cara scos. “Yes, Olivia, we need all these
snacks. Don’t ruin my life.”
“My apologies, queen.”
“Apology accepted.” She sinks to her seat and promptly downs half a vodka cooler. “Did Carter tell Adam what happened last night?”
I nod. Carter had a chance to talk with Adam about Courtney while I was at my game earlier today. He said Adam was devastated, not for himself, but for us.
“Courtney said she was drunk and didn’t remember, and when he kept pushing her, she told him to lighten up and learn how to take a joke.”
Cara makes a low, scary sound in the back of her throat. “Liv, you know I don’t say things like this lightly, but that woman deserves to have an entire hive of angry bees released on her.”
I snicker, and Garrett comes to a stop in front of the bench, sending up a spray of snow as his eyes glide over our snacks. He squirts water into his mouth
and lifts his brows.
“You gonna eat all that, Ollie?”
“All I wanted was popcorn,” I say, slanted eyes on Cara.
“Well, whatever you don’t eat, I’m your man.”
Carter crashes into him from behind. “I’m her man.”
Garrett cross-checks Carter in the chest. “I want her food!”
Carter shoves him back. “Nobody gets her food but me!”
“What am I looking at here?” I ask, watching what appears to be a game of slapsies between two grown men who are supposed to be warming up for their professional hockey game.
“You’re looking at what I have to deal with on a regular basis.” Adam stops in front of the bench for a drink of water. “Children.”
“The food is mine!” Carter shouts out as he wraps his arms around Garrett’s head.
Garrett wriggles free. “I won’t let you down, Ollie!”
It’s at this moment I realize Emmett’s leaning over the bench, winking, and Cara’s aggressively poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
“Oh my God. You two are—” My heart leaps to my throat when Carter’s body slams into the plexiglass right in front of me. “Carter, for fuck’s sake. You scared me.”
He whips his gloves o, cups his hands around his mouth, and breathes on the glass. The tip of his nger etches a heart into the fog, and when he writes C + O my weak heart takes ight, as embarrassing as this is. The wink he hits me with holds all the promise of the night we plan to spend alone together after this late afternoon game.
Cara tosses a mixed handful of Skittles and M&M’s into her mouth. “That man is head over heels in love with you.”
My nose wrinkles, and I send a pointed look at the hand she’s dumping both treats into. “That is disgusting and evil. You do not mix the two. And he’s not in love with me.” But, like, maybe one day. That’d be nice. Or whatever.
Cara snorts. “Liv. Look at that man. I’ve never seen such a lovesick loser.”
My gaze sweeps the ice, and I nd Carter in an instant, his eyes locked on me as he plays with a puck, chatting with a few other players. His grin is electric as he lifts one gloved hand and waves.
“Hi, pumpkin!” he hollers before ring o a shot on Adam.
My cheeks ame. “Did he just call me pumpkin in front of fteen thousand people?”
Cara shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Capacity is nineteen thousand.”
Seems Carter’s dead set on keeping up with the embarrassment schtick, because when he scores six minutes into the rst period, he skates by the bench and yells, “That was for you, pumpkin!” When he scores in the third period and dedicates it to his princess, he points up at my red face lighting the jumbotron, places his gloved hands over his heart, and pretends to faint.
I genuinely didn’t realize they made people this ostentatious, and yet when he strolls right by the reporters after his game and lifts me into his arms, butteries still erupt in my stomach.
By the time we get home, the sinking sun paints the sky in stunning hues of pink and orange, splashes of lavender, the dark pines and towering mountains a striking contrast to the beautiful backdrop.
Carter leads me to the kitchen island and sets a small tray of cheese, cured meats, cashews, and grapes in front of me. “Dinner will be late tonight, so munch on this for now.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
When he returns ten minutes later, he’s wearing the most adorable, bashful smile, and he’s swapped his suit for track pants and a T-shirt.
His ngers thread through mine, tugging me upstairs and toward his bedroom. The bathroom is dimly lit by the warm ame of the candles decorating the edge of the bath, the glow of the stars pouring through the skylight. John Mayer plays softly through the speakers, the book I’m currently reading sitting on the stool next to the large soaker tub. The water is sparkling, a beautiful hue of magenta, littered with rose petals, and Carter’s quite literally bouncing on his toes.
“There’s a bath bomb in there. That’s why the water’s pink. Jennie picked it.” He scratches his head. “Um, it’s got, um…”
I inhale deeply as the scent hits my nose. “Lavender?”
His face lights. “Yeah! Lavender. It’s for relaxing and all that shit.”
I stie a giggle. This is utterly adorable.
“But the rose petals were all me. And the candles.” He couldn’t look prouder.
“For me?”
“For you.” He touches his lips to mine before wiggling my jeans over my hips, bringing my panties and socks with them. He pulls my shirt over my head, removes my bra much more gently than he ever has, and helps me step into the steamy water. “I want you to relax while I get us some dinner and get set up downstairs, okay? You have to stay in here for forty-ve minutes.”
“Forty-ve minutes? That’s awfully specic. What if I miss you?”
“Then you can touch yourself thinking about me.” He snickers, then his gaze hardens. “If you do, I need it on video. Add it to the holy bible of jerk-o material hiding in my phone.”
With a smile and a sigh, I sink into heaven, hands oating over the water, skimming the petals. I don’t last long after he leaves, forgoing the book and
humming along to the music as my eyes drift closed. Before I know it, Carter’s warm hands are on my face, coaxing me awake.
“Sleepy Ollie girl,” he whispers. “Knew I had to come get you when I hit the forty-sixth minute.”
He wraps me in a thick towel and ushers me into the bathroom, pointing to one of his T-shirts and a clean pair of underwear from my bag, all while draining the tub, scooping up the petals, and blowing out the candles. He does so much for me, his dedication and compassion unmatched. When he returns, I wind my arms around him, snuggling close.
“Thank you, Carter. I’m so happy with you, and I can’t wait to grow together.”
“We’re gonna have the biggest glow-up.” His brows furrow. “Emotional glow-up. ’Cause we’re both already hot as fuck.” He smooshes his lips to my forehead, pulling back with a loud muah. “Come on. I can’t wait to show you what I did.”
He lifts me into his arms and carts me down the stairs, stopping at the edge of the living room, and my heart implodes. His strums steadily next to my ear on his chest, and I press my palm there, as if I might be able to touch it, feel the way it races.
I slide down his body, ngers at my mouth as I move into the room.
The TV is on, open to Disney+ and showcasing all the classics. The couch is… destroyed. The cushions are gone, though I have an idea where they might be. I round the white sheets that decorate the room, set up like a tent, and I nd the cushions inside, buried under bundles of blankets and more pillows than I’ve ever seen. Twinkly lights line the inside of the tent, and the coee table is littered with boxes of Chinese food.
Carter watches me, reaching for me before seeming to second-guess himself, palming the back of his neck. “I thought we could have a movie night. Do you…
do you like it?”
Do I like it?
I leap across the room, jump into his arms, and crush my lips to his as he laughs.
“I’ll take that as a hell yes. Fuck, I’m killin’ it at this boyfriend stu.”
Together, we cuddle up in the makeshift tent, settling on The Lion King rst, and Carter sings every single word while we eat. When it’s over, he disappears into the kitchen and returns with brownies.
“Frozen?” He licks the frosting o his thumb as he sifts through movies. “Or Moana? I can sing both, in case you’re wondering.”
“Frozen. I wanna hear you sing ‘Let it Go.’”
Carter looks down at me as I snuggle into his side. “You gonna stay awake long enough to hear it?”
“Pt. I’m wide awake. Had a cat nap in the tub.”
“Mhmm. Well, just in case…” He scoops me into his arms, settling me against his chest, resting his chin on my head.
We’re only ten minutes in when he runs his palm over my back and whispers my name. When I meet his gaze, it’s tender and warm.
“My mom always told me that these things don’t come easily, that you have to work for the love and the life you want. The hard parts are challenging, but we get through them, and everything else with you feels natural, and I… I want to work with you. I want to build a life we love.”
With those words replaying in my mind, I don’t make it long enough to hear him sing his song, and I’m not sure what time it is when I feel him lay me down on the cushions, his body molding around mine. The heat of his palm warms my belly when it slips beneath my shirt, and soft lips nd my ear.
“You’re my favorite everything, Ollie.”
