Home > Too Late(48)

Too Late(48)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I take another shot and walk past them on my way toward the backdoor. I pat Carter on the back, but I don’t think he notices. The chick’s legs are wrapped around his waist now. She has some nice fucking legs.

Lucky bastard.

I lightly trail my fingers across one of her legs as I pass them. Carter still has his mouth buried against her neck, but the girl makes eye contact with me when she feels me touch her. I wink at her and then walk toward the backdoor.

I give her five minutes before she comes up with an excuse to follow me outside.

I should feel bad about this-about stealing Carter’s girl right out from under him. But the fucker has gotten inside my head more than enough in the last twenty-four hours when it comes to Sloan. If anything, he deserves this.

Carter-28

Carter

“Is he gone?” I whisper in her ear.

Tillie nods and unwraps her legs from around my waist. “Yep,” she says, wiping at her neck. “I get that you had to make it convincing, but please don’t ever put your tongue on me again. Gross.”

I laugh. She straightens her hair by running her fingers through it. “Now disappear. I have work to do. This might even be easier than I thought.” She slaps her hand against my chest and pushes me aside, heading out the back door in search of her new project. Asa.

Tille has helped out with a couple of jobs I’ve worked on before, but she’s usually Dalton’s sidekick. I figured having her here tonight would not only come in handy for my own sake, but for the investigation as well. If anyone could take Asa’s eyes off Sloan for any amount of time, it would be Tillie. Not only because of the way she looks, but she’s like a chameleon. She can become whoever she needs to be in order to worm her way into a guy’s psyche, and Asa Jackson is next up on her list.

When she disappears outside, I glance around the room to make sure no one is paying any attention to me. When I’m in the clear, I head straight for the stairs.

Granted, sneaking up to Sloan’s room is not why Tillie is here. In fact, Dalton ordered me to stay away from Sloan tonight and wait until Sunday to give her any attention-when Asa is far away from both of us.

Luckily, Dalton is outside. So is Asa.

And now, so is Tillie. I’ve got at least a ten-minute window to check on Sloan.

She’s probably confused by the toast I gave downstairs. Hell, I’m still confused as to why Asa asked me to do it in the first place. Either he’s beginning to trust me, or it’s a keep your enemies closer kind of situation.

I don’t waste time knocking when I get to her bedroom. I open the door and shut it just as fast. Then I lock it for good measure. She’s sitting on the bed and as soon as she glances up and realizes it’s me, she stands up. “Carter,” she says, wiping at a tear. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

God, she looks beautiful. I was so sick to my stomach when I saw Asa carrying her down the stairs earlier, I refused to allow myself to take it all in. The way her dark curls are cascading around her bare shoulders, the way her dress hugs at her just like I wish I was doing right now. Fuck. I know I had to down half a bottle of champagne in order to get through the toast earlier, but it’s really starting to hit me now.

I walk past her without touching her somehow, to the window. I stand to the side of it and look out over the backyard. Asa is on a lounge chair by the pool-Tillie is sitting on the chair next to his. She’s leaning forward, engrossing him in conversation. His hands are relaxed behind his head and even from here I can tell he’s staring at her breasts.

Dalton is talking to Jon on the other side of the pool.

I glance back at Sloan and she’s standing behind me, shaking her head. “Why are you in here? He’s already suspicious, Carter. Are you crazy?”

I nod. “Apparently.”

She’s hugging herself nervously, staring up at me. My heart feels like it’s about to tear through my chest. It does that sometimes when I do stupid shit like this. “Do you want me to leave?” I ask her.

She pulls her bottom lip in and chews on it for a second. “Not yet,” she whispers.

I reach to her and pull her left arm away from her chest. I slide my fingers around her ring. “I can’t do this while you’re wearing this ring.” I slip the ring off her hand and toss it on the bed.

“Do what?” she whispers, looking up at me with a considerable amount of anticipation.

I close the gap between us. “Kiss you.” I lift my hands to her face, slowly sliding them through her hair to the nape of her neck. “I’m going to kiss you until I sober up or get caught. Whichever comes first.”

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