Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) (15 page)

“So…are you wearing your lucky panties?” I rasped.

As she cleared her throat, her eyes met mine. The hint of a challenge in them caused my dick to twitch with excitement.

“How do you know about them?” she asked.

I was happy that we’d moved past the denial portion of the evening. She was opening up the dialog I’d been dying to have with her since the night she’d told me about them.

“You told me about them—”

Her eyes widened as she blurted out, “I did not.”

“Yes. You did. The night I took you home from the bar.”

She winced, and the glint of challenge that had beamed from her baby blues a second ago turned to horror. Her voice was barely a whisper as she asked, “What did I say?”

“You said that you bought them before you left for college. They are white lace with a cherry in the center of the waistband. You thought it would be funny to wear a pair of cherry panties when you got your cherry—”

“Stop!” she shouted as she covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

I’d have done anything Cara wanted—except stop talking. This conversation was going to happen.

“You also told me that, since you were still a virgin, they hadn’t exactly been lucky.”

She whimpered beneath her hands and shook her head. I almost pointed out that she was cuter than a ladybug in a tutu, but I didn’t think she would have appreciated that in her current state of mortification, so I kept my opinion to myself.

“But you said you weren’t going to give up on them, that you were loyal and you believed that, one day—”

“Okay!” She shoved her hands against my chest, which was futile because I didn’t budge. I wasn’t going anywhere. “Enough. You can stop now.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I teased.

“Fine.” She threw her hands up in the air. “What other humiliating thing did I say?”

“You think that telling me you’re a virgin is humiliating?”

“Oh, no!” Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she continued. “Not humiliating at all. I always tell guys that I’ve…I’ve…” She waved her hand between us as she stumbled over her words “I’ve…grown up with that I’m a pathetic virgin that has lucky panties.”

“There’s nothing pathetic about being a virgin.” I gripped the counter tighter—my hands were itching to wrap around her hips, pull her against me, and show her just how unpathetic I thought she was. “And I think it’s fucking adorable that you have lucky panties. I’m glad they haven’t ‘worked’ yet, because that means
I
can be the one to change your luck.”

Cara’s posture stiffened, and she sucked in a sharp gasp as her eyes locked on mine. I stared back at her, hoping to infuse everything I felt for her into her consciousness. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and I wanted her to see that she filled mine. More than anything, I wanted her to see herself the way I saw her.

Apparently, communicating visually was not my strong suit, because after a few seconds, her shoulders slumped as she cast her eyes towards the floor. “You don’t have to say that.”

“You think I’m just
saying
that I want to be the man that changes your—how did you put it?—
status
?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did this girl honestly not know how badly I wanted her?

A soft moan sounded as she once again covered her face with her hands. “I called it my status?”

This was ridiculous. I was not going to stand there and let her be embarrassed. She never had to be embarrassed around me.

“Look at me,” I stated firmly.

“Trace…” She began shaking her head again, her face still hidden behind her hands.

“Cara. Look at me.” My command had come out much harsher than I’d meant it to, but thankfully, it did the trick.

She lowered her hands and lifted her face up to mine, her eyes closed. I waited, my gaze drinking in every inch of her beautiful face. When her lids finally opened and her bright-blue eyes shined up at me, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” she said flatly.

“I wasn’t smiling because I think this is funny. I was smiling because you are so fucking beautiful I can’t help it.”

Her head flinched back slightly and her eyes narrowed.

Instead of addressing her current emotional state, I felt it best to keep this truck moving out of the friend zone. I could tell her how I felt, how I’d felt for years, but if she couldn’t even accept that I thought she was beautiful, we obviously had a long road ahead of us. And I didn’t want to put the pedal to the metal and scare her. I could take things slow.

“So, back to your status and desire to change it and my desire to be the changer. I saw the
list
.”

Shock registered in her gorgeous eyes.

“My sister grabbed it before I could read
all
of it. But I assumed it was what you were looking for in a boyfriend—”

“I don’t want a boyfriend!” she exclaimed.

“Okay, then it was a list for…”

She sighed. “I just wanted to date. I don’t want a boyfriend, a relationship. It was a list for what I’d like in a guy to
date
.”

“Date so that your status changed?”

She hadn’t answered if she was wearing her lucky panties or not, but if she was dating for the sole purpose of losing her virginity, then no way in hell was she going out with anyone but me.

“Yes,
date
. Not be in a relationship. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.”

I had no idea why she was being so adamant about the boyfriend-versus-date clarification, but I was not about to let that hiccup sidetrack me, especially now that I knew what her end game was. “Got it. Just date. Well, when I pointed out that I fit the criteria listed, Harmony was more than happy to inform me that I did not meet one crucial qualifying factor. My question is: What is it?”

Instead of answering, she hollowed her cheek. Just like I knew she brushed her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, I also knew she bit the side of her cheek when she was deep in concentration and had a big decision to make. When she was younger, it was usually things like what she wanted from the ice cream truck or what movie she wanted to watch. As she got older, it was more important things like what college she wanted to go to or what car she wanted to get.

Damn! Even though I knew I couldn’t rush her, the urgency to find out her answer was shooting through me like a geyser.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed. “You know me.”

“What?” I had to have heard her wrong.

Straightening her shoulders, she stood up taller. “You know me. That’s the only thing on the list that you don’t match. I wanted to be with someone…to date someone that…I don’t know…that when they look at me, they don’t see…” Her voice trailed off.

“Cancer?” That logic made about as much sense to me as a book on how to read, but I figured that had to be what she was talking about.

My assumption was met with silence. Her only acknowledgement was a nod.

“You think that’s what
I
see when I look at you?”

“I think that’s all anyone who
knows
me sees when they look at me.” She sounded so sad, so defeated. “That’s why I just wanted to be with someone I could have a fresh slate with. No sympathy. No…past.”

She might be saying
past
, but she meant
cancer.
And she could not be more wrong. But I could tell, by the resigned determination in her eyes that it was going to take a little creativity to show her just how wrong she was. That that was not at all how I saw her. And that being with someone that didn’t
know
her was the worst idea in the world. That being with anyone other than
me
was the worst idea in the world.

Instead of arguing with her logic, I decided to take a different approach.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at it. But you’re only looking at one side of the
knowing
you coin. What about the flip side?

“Sex,
good
sex, is all about
knowing
and reading what your partner likes and needs. Did you ever think about the fact that someone that
knows
you, like
me
, also knows your body and its signals? For example, I know that you bite the side of your cheek when you’re thinking, that you brush your hair behind your ear when you’re nervous, that your cheeks turn different shades of pink when you’re mad, when you’re embarrassed, and when you’re turned on.”

Her breathing was shallow and her eyes glossy as her fingers brushed over her cheek. “They do?”

Not able to take one more second of not touching her, I took my hand off the counter and softly trailed my knuckles along her jaw line. At my caress, her breath caught.

“They do. When you’re mad, the color is more of a deep-pink flush. When you’re embarrassed, it’s a light-pink blush. And, when you’re turned on, like
now
, it’s a pinkish-red glow.”

“How do you know that I’m…” she started to ask, but she closed her eyes as I slowly grazed the backs of my fingers down her neck.

“Because I
know
you,” I answered her incomplete question. “Don’t you think it would be better to be with someone you can trust your body with for your first time? Someone who
knows
you?”

“Uh huh,” she easily agreed as I traced the neckline of her dress, running my fingertips across her collarbone.

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

If I touched my lips to hers, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking things too far, so I softly kissed her forehead instead. “Meet me in my office tomorrow night,” I whispered. “Six o’clock. And darlin’, make sure to wear your lucky panties.”

Using more self-control than I knew I possessed, I walked out of the kitchen, leaving Cara breathless and probably more than a little confused.

I stalked down the hall towards the guest bedroom. There was no way I was going to get any sleep tonight, and not just because of the rock-hard erection I was sporting, which would not be satisfied with a quick jerk-off. I wouldn’t be sleeping because I knew that tomorrow night, if Cara actually showed up, my entire life was going to change.

And I couldn’t wait.

Cara

“When your sun is shining that bright, keepin’ folks in the dark is harder than puttin’ socks on a rooster.”

~ Dolly Briggs

“I
’m so happy
that you’re feeling better,” I enthused as Destiny spread out sample paint colors on the large butcher block island while we waited for our third angel, who was thirty minutes late.

“So am I. The past few weeks have been brutal.” She touched the tiny bump on her belly as her lips split open in a huge grin. “But totally worth it.” She rubbed her hand in a small circle around her stomach before glancing around her newly installed commercial kitchen.

“It’s crazy how much your life has changed.”

For years, all Destiny had talked about was opening up her own bakery, and now, that dream had become a reality. She’d always wanted a big family, and she was pregnant. She’d had a crush on JJ Briggs since she was four, and he was her husband.

Everything had fallen into place for Destiny, and I was elated for my best friend. Plus, it gave me hope that maybe—just
maybe
—the same thing could happen for me. Last night had been like a dream, one I kept replaying in my head. Every touch, every look, every word Trace and I had shared was on constant repeat.

I still wasn’t sure what had really happened
or
what I should do about it. The entire exchange had been like a roller coaster of emotion. First, just being on the ride had been terrifying. Then it had done a corkscrew into arousal, which had led to a loop-di-loop of embarrassment, only to shoot back up to arousal, flip upside down into embarrassment, and end with free fall of arousal.

I was dizzy from thinking about it.

The whole thing was kind of a blur, from spitting my wine on Trace’s bare chest, to his arms surrounding me as he pinned me against the sink, to finding out I’d said way too much when I was drunk, to him offering to devirginize me… At least I think that’s what he did.

I wasn’t exactly clear on that point. But I could still feel the trail of his touch along my face and down my neck. I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my forehead, and I could still hear him telling me to show up at his office, in my lucky panties, at six o’clock tonight.

Which was four hours, six minutes, and, oh, about thirty seconds away.

“Sorry! I was studying and lost track of time!” Harmony announced as she stepped through the back door of the bakery and slid onto the stool beside me, doing a double take. “Well, well, well! Looks like things with Mr. Lawyerman went better than I expected.”

“What?” My brow furrowed as I tilted my head. Why would she possibly think that my date with Derek last night had gone well?

“Sorry.” She raised her hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Nothing against him. It was just… I guess, from your description, I didn’t think things were going to go well. In fact…” She held her pointer finger up before digging into her purse and handing Destiny a five-dollar bill.

“What’s that for?”

“Thank you!” Destiny snatched the bill from Harmony. “Harm bet me five dollars that you wouldn’t make it past one drink. I told her to have faith in your instincts. You obviously saw something in him that you liked. Otherwise, why would you go out with him?”

“Why do you think it lasted more than one drink?” I asked my normally perceptive, auburn-haired friend, who was way off the mark on this one.

“Are you serious?” Harmony’s eyebrows rose. “Girlie girl, if you were a cartoon, there would be birds and hearts flying around your head.”

Uh oh!
If hearts or birds were flying around my head, they had Trace’s name on them, not Derek’s. But how was I going to explain that to his
sister
?

Sure, Harmony had been fine with Destiny hooking up with JJ because it had been a widely known fact that Destiny had always been head-over-heels in love with him. But
I
had done a very good job at hiding my feelings for Trace.