Chapter 29

Carter’s body shifts,the bicep that serves as my pillow moving and displacing my head. It wasn’t easy finding a comfortable way to lay on him to begin with, so I grumble and curl into him even harder.
“Stop squirming,” I mutter.
Chuckling, he leans in and kisses my forehead. “It’s time to get up, sleeping beauty.”
“Never.”
“Not a morning person?”
“Mornings are the devil’s work. Your bed is so comfortable. Your bedding is so soft. I don’t understand why you ever leave your bed.”
“It’s much more tempting to stay in it when you’re here with me,” he offers. “Wanna blow off your church thing and stay here all day?”
Aw, man. I was nestled up in a comfy sleep fog and I totally forgot I volunteered to help out at the church this morning. Instead of getting up, I keep my eyes closed. “I should tell Grace I’ll be late. She probably already did everything last night anyway. Grace enjoys mornings—you know, like a psycho.”
I nearly jump out of my skin as Carter’s bedroom door flies open. I grab the blanket on top of us and yank it against my breasts, my heart stalling as I look up into the face of a middle-aged woman with copper-colored hair and a tired smile.
“Good morning, dear.” She glances at me and nods. “Carter’s friend.”
I blink, confounded by her calmness at finding a girl naked in her son’s bed. Surely this is Carter’s mom. She doesn’t resemble him much at all, but she called him dear.
Before another word can be said, a much smaller female hauls an armful of stuffed animals into the bedroom. Carter’s little sister is wearing a crown, a princess dress over her clothing, and blue sparkly eye shadow that has been smeared clear up to her tiny, dark eyebrows.
“Don’t I look pretty?” she demands.
Dutifully, Carter looks her over. “Looking sharp, kiddo. What are you all dressed up for?”
“Breakfast. My princess in the book Mama read me last night dresses up before she goes down to breakfast, so I did, too. Come on, it’s time to eat. Hi, bookstore lady,” she adds, an apparent afterthought.
Swallowing down my awkwardness, I offer a much more sheepish, “Hi, Chloe.”
Turning on her plastic sparkle heels, she announces, “I’m taking my animals down to breakfast, but we’ll save you guys a seat.”
“How considerate,” Carter says, dryly. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
We?
Carter’s mom flashes me a bland smile and pulls his door closed once Chloe vacates the room.
Wide-eyed, I prop myself up on an elbow and stare at Carter. “That was so weird.”
“What?”
My eyes widen even more. “That! Is your mom used to finding random girls in your bed?”
“She’s not used to it, but it’s not like she thinks I’m a virgin. House guests don’t bother her.” Drawing the blanket off his abdomen, he sits on the edge of the bed and stretches. “We should go downstairs. Chloe will come back up to get us if we take too long. She’s an assertive little shit.”
I sit up, pulling the bed sheets around me rather than dropping them. “I wasn’t planning to stay for breakfast. I don’t think you were planning that either, were you? I mean, your parents were at the game last night and I didn’t meet them. Awkward morning after breakfast sounds much less ideal.”
“It won’t be awkward,” he says dismissively, standing with his back to me so that I get distracted admiring his ass and forget about the horrible prospect of sitting there with his parents. They would both know their son banged me last night. How could it not be awkward?
Following his lead despite my hesitance, I climb off the bed. I’d really prefer a shower before we go downstairs. Carter came inside me again last night, despite my asking him to pull out. He reasoned that pulling out was kind of pointless, and ignored me when I asked him to do it anyway. Consequently, my thighs still feel a little sticky, and I can’t imagine sitting there with his parents and little sister, still feeling Carter between my legs.
“I have to shower. I can be fast, but considering you’re bound and determined to make your mother a grandma, I’d like to make a better first impression than this.”
Carter chokes on laughter, but since he told me Chloe would come get us if we dawdled, I don’t wait to hear his response.

After the world’squickest shower, I put on last night’s clothes and head downstairs with Carter. One more reason I shouldn’t be going to this breakfast is that I can’t go to church in what I’m wearing, so I’ll have to stop home first.
I text Grace to let her know I might be a little late as Carter leads me toward the dining room. I haven’t been in this room yet, but his house is pretty big, so there are quite a few rooms I haven’t seen.
The dining room is gray and white with a chandelier hanging over the table, dark hardwood flooring, and a wall of windows, letting in a stream of light from the big back yard. I see patio furniture out there, but my gaze snaps right back to the table. There’s a dark-haired man with his back to us. He has Carter’s broad shoulders, a matured version of his physique, and he’s wearing a pristine navy blue suit. There’s a newspaper open in his hands and the table is quiet. Carter’s mom is just sitting down, so she glances up at us with another weak smile as she takes her seat. Chloe is seated and poking her eggs with a fork, but there’s a scowl on her cute little face, telegraphing her displeasure.
“Good morning,” Carter offers to the room as he leads me straight past the table and into the next room. It’s the kitchen—a big kitchen. I wish I had this kitchen.
At the center of the cooking area is an island with a wooden surface, polished and gleaming. There are chairs all around that, and I would really rather eat there, but that would probably be rude.
There’s a fancy coffee machine on the counter beyond the island, and a line of breakfast dishes. Carter opens a cupboard and grabs two plates, then passes one to me.
“Wow, does your mom make breakfast like this every morning?” I ask him.
“Most mornings.”
“My mom buys Pop-Tarts,” I offer, smiling wryly as I eye up the steaming dishes.
Carter is spoiled and does not adequately appreciate this breakfast feast. I do, and my mouth waters as I scoop a little bit of everything up and put it on my plate. I didn’t even know how hungry I was, but man, it all looks and smells so good.
Carter glances at my plate and smirks. “Hungry?”
“I need the extra nourishment,” I inform him, lifting my eyebrows. “I’m probably eatin’ for two.”
“Jesus Christ,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“If I keep talkin’ about it, maybe it will finally sink in that you need to wear a damn condom. I know you get a kick out of ignorin’ me when I tell you not to do something sexual, but refusing to wear a condom shouldn’t be included in your deviance.”
“I like being inside you without a condom.”
“You’re gonna like it a whole lot less when you’re explainin’ to your Columbia wife five years from now why you’re paying child support to some girl you used to know in Texas.”
“I’m getting married in five years? To someone else? Why are you still in Texas? I feel like you left a lot out of the missing years, here. Anyway, you could just get an abortion and go on about your life,” he points out.
“I’m spendin’ both of my weekend days at church, Carter. You really think I’m gonna get an abortion because you can’t be bothered to wrap it up? Nope. I would have the baby and curse you forever.”
“You wanted one or two to play in the leaf piles anyway. Jeeze, does nothing make you happy? It is like we’re married.”
“Next time you fuck me without a condom, I’m buyin’ myself a ‘baby on board’ maternity shirt, and it’s all I’m ever going to wear around you.”
“You are a real pain in my ass, you know that?” he asks, opening a drawer and grabbing some silverware.
I grab some while he has it open. “Wait until my pregnancy hormones kick in.”
“For fuck’s sake, you are not pregnant.”
“No thanks to you,” I mutter.
Carter shakes his head, puts his plate down, and moves close. I move my plate aside just in time for him to close in. His chest brushes mine and he grabs the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. “No discussing our impending family at the breakfast table,” he tells me when he pulls back. “I’m sure you can guess, but my parents would be decidedly less amused.”
“You know when you’re going to be decidedly less amused? When I’m sendin’ you to the store at 3am because I’m craving a certain brand of pickles.”
Carter takes a step back, rolls his eyes at me again, and grabs his plate. “Come on, wifey.”
“And my back is already aching from carrying around your spawn. I hope you’re plannin’ to give me a back rub later.”
“Are your feet swelling up, too? Maybe I should just buy you a whole spa day.”
“I mean, it’s the least you could do for the mother of your child.”
Carter walks ahead of me, shaking his head, but I let the joke die since we’re walking back into the dining room. I should tell on him to his parents; maybe they could convince him that safe sex is the only sex we should be having, because I don’t seem to be getting through.
Obviously I’m not going to do that, though.
Carter’s father glances up from his paper to look me over, and I immediately see where both kids got all their looks from. Carter and Chloe both favor their father and got little to no physical characteristics from their mom.
“Mom, Dad, this is Zoey,” Carter offers as he drops into his seat next to Chloe.
I flash his mom a smile, then his father. “Zoey Ellis. It’s nice to meet you both.”
“I’m Angela,” his mother tells me. “This is Carter’s father, Kevin.”
Carter’s father doesn’t greet me, but when I look at him, his gaze is either resting on my breasts, or my Longhorns tank. I hope it’s the latter, and breathe a sigh of relief that it is when a moment later he says, “Zoey Ellis, huh? Bet Jake’s not happy about that.”
I take a seat, looking awkwardly to Carter.
Carter shrugs. “Didn’t ask him. Don’t care.”
“You should care,” his father states. “Jake’s suspension could’ve thrown off your whole season.”
“Could’ve—if the team depended on his talent. Since it relies on mine, we’re just fine,” Carter replies.
His gaze slides past Carter and comes back to me. “Well, in any case, it’s good you got that whole misunderstanding cleared up.”
My fingers tighten around the fork like it’s the blade of a knife that I’m about to plant in Carter’s father’s jugular. “There was no misunderstanding. Jake behaved in a less than gentlemanly manner, and I didn’t appreciate it. Anyway, I’m also glad it’s behind us.”
“Maybe an overreaction to ruin the boy’s last season of football,” Kevin tells me.
“I don’t think it was,” I offer back, with a painfully polite smile. “Personally, I think his behavior warranted a time-out. Since that’s the only punishment that seemed to impact him, I’m glad Coach took it seriously and took away something Jake enjoyed.”
“Did he get grounded?” Chloe asks.
I nod my head. “He sure did.”
“I bet he didn’t like that. I wouldn’t like to be grounded,” she informs me.
“No, I wouldn’t either,” I agree, turning my attention to her, since her company is far more pleasant. Carter’s dad already has my cheeks flushing with defensive annoyance, and that is not the foot I intended to start out on. Carter could have given me a heads up that his dad was on the anti-Zoey, pitchfork-wielding side. Not only would I not have come to this breakfast, I would have avoided meeting his parents at all, at least until the season ended.
I am starting to understand now why he didn’t introduce them to me at the game last night, though. His father condescending to me at the table in private is one thing, but in front of everyone at the stadium? That would have been doubly embarrassing.
“Zoey’s a good girl,” Carter tells Chloe, or his dad, I’m not sure. He’s talking to Chloe, but it sounds more like it’s aimed at his dad. “I’m sure she’s never done anything to get herself grounded.”
“She can’t be that good, if she’s having sleepovers with you,” his dad murmurs, lifting his coffee to his lips and turning his attention back to his paper.
“Oh, Kevin,” his mom finally fusses, shaking her head. Offering me an apologetic smile, she says, “Don’t mind him, dear. He’s a grump before he’s finished his morning coffee. He doesn’t mean any of that.”
“Mm hmm,” he dad mutters. “We’ll see what you say when it’s our son she’s trying to drag through the mud.”
“Would you stop it?” Carter snaps. “Jesus Christ, I’m introducing you to my girlfriend and you have to act like an ass.”
His father’s eyebrows rise, but with something closer to amusement than I would expect upon getting a lecture from his own son. “Girlfriend? Christ, what’s this girl doing to you boys to make you behave like fucking idiots?”
“Kevin,” his mother chides.
“She accuses his friend and he says ‘hey, I think I’ll make her my girlfriend.’” Kevin shakes his head. “Boy has no sense of loyalty.”
Carter’s fork drops to the plate with a clatter and he leans back in his chair. “Oh, that is rich coming from you.”
“Carter, please,” his mother says, trying to take his reins, since his father’s are clearly beyond her reach.
I get the impression that Carter’s are, too, but he must not want to bring up something he knows will pain her at the breakfast table. Shaking his head, he grabs his fork and starts eating a little faster.
“I wanna go to Disney World,” Chloe announces. “Alicia said her parents took her there, and she got to eat breakfast at the castle with princesses. Can you imagine if we lived in a castle?”
“You basically do,” I tell her, offering a little smile. “Your house is a lot bigger than mine, that’s for sure.”
“I bet it is,” Carter’s dad murmurs.
Carter’s jaw locks and he glares.
His mom fidgets with her napkin.
Yep, totally not awkward at all, Carter. Good call on making me come to family breakfast.
Carter’s mom clutches onto an invisible tangent. “Speaking of, Carter, can you take Chloe to ballet today? You’ll have to clean all that make-up off her first, she can’t go like that. I intended to take her, but I’m just too tired.”
“You’re always tired,” his dad mutters. “Never do anything, but tired all the damn time.”
With every syllable that leaves his lips, I dislike Carter’s father a little more.
“Mama does stuff,” Chloe defends. “She’s great.”
Offering a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, Angela says, “Thank you, Chloe.”
The rest of breakfast passes awkwardly, but at least it doesn’t get worse. When I’ve consumed my food as quickly as possible without appearing to be training for my career as a competitive eater, Carter walks me out to my car.
Once we’re a safe distance from the house, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tells me, “I owe you an apology. I did not think that would go the way it did.”
I shrug, feeling relieved to be out of the house, but bad for Carter, Chloe, and Carter’s mom, because they’re all stuck here. “It’s fine. Your dad is awful though. Like, truly awful. Was not prepared for that.”
Carter shakes his head glancing back at the house. “I told you, I don’t know why she won’t leave the bastard.”
“Well… I thought you were exaggerating, but no. I don’t know why either. I would leave him, then I’d come back just so I could leave him again. Every morning, come over just to leave. Maybe after a month or so it would feel like I had left him a sufficient number of times, but… I’m not sure.”
Carter cracks a smile, then leans in and kisses me. “Well, I’m glad we got that over with, at least.”
“I have officially met the parents. I hope you don’t think we’re bringin’ the baby back here for holidays though, because… no.”
“Chloe’s gonna have a bedroom at my place in New York, we’ll invite my mom to stay on an air mattress in her room. My father can spend the holidays alone like the miserable bastard he is.”
“We’ll send him a card to thank him for the apartment, just to be polite. But bar him from ever visiting, on account of his personality.”
Now Carter’s smile widens and he leans in and kisses me. “Have fun getting ready for church with Pastor Boner.”
“You’re goin’ to Hell for callin’ him that,” I inform him.
“I’m going to Hell for a lot of things,” he assures me.