Consider Me: Chapter 42
OLIVIA
“CAN I HELP YOU, GRUMPY PANTS?”
Carter pins his arms across his chest, scowling at me from across the room, where he looks anything but relaxed in the La-Z-Boy he’s lounging in. In fact, he looks quite grumpy, hence the nickname. “I’m not a grumpy pants.”
“You’re being a grumpy pants.”
“Obviously I’m being a grumpy pants!” He flails a flappy hand through the air. “Every time we’re here you ditch me for those two. So if you want to help me, you can get your sweet ass over here and plant it in my lap.”
“Sharing is caring, Carter,” Hank murmurs from beside me, his hand tucked tenderly into mine as I scratch Dublin’s head in my lap with my free hand. “Plus, I haven’t seen you two since you got back from your Spring Break escapades.” He chuckles to himself. “Well, I’ve never seen you, but you know what I mean.”
“Fucking—” Carter scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re the only blind man I know who makes fun of the fact that he’s blind.”
“I think I’m the only blind man you know, period. And if I can’t poke some fun at myself, then what is life all about?” Hank slings an arm around my shoulders. “You’re just mad ’cause I’ve got your lady. Don’t be upset; I’ve always been somewhat of a ladies’ man.”
“You met Ireland at fourteen, started dating her at fifteen, married her at eighteen, and have never been with another woman.” Carter pats his lap and wags his brows at me, trying to entice me over there. He rolls his eyes when I don’t respond. “I’d hardly call that a ladies’ man.”
“You sound jealous.” It’s a wonder these two aren’t actually related, because Hank sounds as smug as Carter right now. “Why don’t you quit your complaining and come sit on Ollie’s other side?”
“’Cause your damn dog is there, all up in her business!”
Dublin lifts his head to look at Carter. It’s one of those adorable, head-cocking looks, all sad chocolate eyes and floppy ears.
Carter sighs. “Yeah, yeah. You’re cute, everyone loves you; we get it, Dubs.”
Laughing, I shift Dublin closer to me and free a space on the couch, patting it with my hand. “Come here, you big baby.”
To say Carter doesn’t spring to his feet and haul ass over to the free spot would be a lie. Three months together and this man still hates every bit of unnecessary distance between us. I can’t say I mind. His love language is physical intimacy and I love to give him what he needs, which is why my fingers curl around his the second he sinks down beside the dog. His lips touch my shoulder, a whispered I love you kissing my skin.
“Speaking of babies…”
My shoulders tense at Hank’s words. It’s been well over a month since Alannah dropped the marriage and babies bomb on the reporters outside Carter’s hockey game, and while we’ve managed to avoid directly addressing it, Carter’s taken to walking around the house calling himself a DILF whenever the opportunity arises. I even caught him trying to change his contact name in my phone from World’s Sexiest Man to World’s Sexiest DILF. I have to continuously remind myself that it’s way too early to be thinking of weddings and babies. I’d like to live in the present, enjoy every moment we spend getting to know each other deeper, rather than wonder about the future.
And yet, when Hank finishes his sentence, it’s not at all what I expected.
“When are you gonna get a dog?”
I look to Carter, one hand buried in Dublin’s fur, longing gaze set on the dog as his free hand rubs methodically over the back of mine. “Do you want a dog?”
He nods. “We had Max growing up. He passed away when I was fifteen. My parents wouldn’t let us get another because my training for hockey and Jennie’s dance was getting so intense. We were barely home. They said it wasn’t fair to the dog.” A side smile touches his lips as he pushes one of Dublin’s silky golden ears back. “I was so mad at my parents. I didn’t see it at the time, but I know now they were right. It wouldn’t have been fair to be passing him off to family members to watch all the time, and it still wouldn’t be.”
Before my frown can set in, Hank shakes my knee. “But that’s not true anymore, Carter. You’ve got Miss Olivia here. Your old excuse that you don’t have someone to stay home with him when you’re gone has, quite frankly, gone to shit, son.”
“I’d watch your dog for you,” I blurt.
Carter smiles tenderly and squeezes my hand. “Someday.”
“Great. And speaking of dogs, when are you two gonna think about having babies and making me some type of pseudo-grandfather?”
“Speaking of dogs, when are we having babies?” Carter pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes. “That makes no fucking sense, old man.”
“Well, stepdaddy Carter is all the hot gossip lately.”
Hank’s not wrong, though I wish he was. The articles that have come out since we brought Jem and Alannah to the hockey game back at the beginning of March have been relentless. For people who are everywhere and know everything, sometimes they don’t know shit.
It didn’t take them long to figure out that I’m a teacher. When Carter makes it a habit to stop by the school, it’s not difficult. Also doesn’t help when one of your students tells the media he knows Carter Beckett’s girlfriend. The article was fine, but that’s beside the point. It took me all of twenty minutes to find out who it was, and when I asked him how much money he got for telling them what I do and which school I work at, he proudly flashed me a hundred-dollar bill. He brought me tea and a cookie the next morning and proclaimed we were even. I’m not sure he still felt that way when I “accidentally” missed one of his laps during his three-mile run and made him do an extra.
“These journalists know everything about his life and mine,” I say, “yet they haven’t figured out that Alannah and Jem aren’t my kids.”
“Oh, they know,” Carter replies coolly. “It’s just way more interesting if you’re a struggling single mom and I’m the hot step-DILF swooping in.”
“You keep saying that, but you’re the only one who calls yourself a DILF.”
“Nuh-uh!” He screws around on his phone before flipping me a photo of him with Jem on his shoulders and Alannah’s hand in his as we walk through a grocery store with a basket of junk food. He clears his throat, reading off the title of the article with an air of arrogance that could only belong to him. “‘Carter Beckett: reformed playboy, People’s Sexiest Man, hockey phenomenon, and now the stepdaddy we’d all like to F!’”
I’ve seen this article, of course. Cara sent it to me, as did my sister-in-law, and my mother. All three of them eagerly agreed with every word, even Kristin, who actually birthed the children in question.
“Sometimes I think you write these articles yourself.”
Hank snorts a laugh. “My personal favorite was the pregnancy one. Called Carter to see if I was the last to find out.” He gasps suddenly, leaning forward to find his tablet on the coffee table. His shirt comes untucked from the waist of his jeans, riding up his back, showcasing a nasty-looking bruise that has Carter leaping to his feet. “Speaking of getting knocked up—”
“Hank! What happened?” Carter gingerly touches his back while Hank swats him away.
“Oh, quit your worrying. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You’re black and blue! It’s the size of my hand!”
“Barely even hurts anymore. Must’ve been singing and dancing a little too enthusiastically in the shower the other day. Slipped on a puddle on the floor when I stepped out of the shower.”
It doesn’t seem to ease Carter’s worry, and after he helps Hank back to his seat, there’s a slick tick in his jaw that won’t quit. I lay my hand over his, stopping the incessant drumming of his fingers on his thigh.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You weren’t in town. Look, Carter, I know you’re concerned, but I’m okay. I got up, brushed myself off. Dublin stayed by my side.” He ruffles Dublin’s ears. “Didn’t ya, Dubs? Yes you did. You’re my good boy.”
“You can always call me, Hank, okay?” I squeeze his hand gently. “We don’t need Carter to be around for us to hang out.”
“Oooh-ho-ho.” His grin is electric. “You hear that, Carter? I’m movin’ in on your girl.” He shakes his tablet. “Anyway, as I was saying, Ollie, I picked our next book. A whole series, actually. Owned, Claimed, Ruined. Reviews say it’s one hell of a juicy read.”
Carter’s eyes widen, and when he brackets his face between his hands, I barely hear the way he breathes out, “What the fuuuck.”
“You sure you wanna wear that? Your legs might get cold.”
“Of course I’m sure.” Jennie twirls, hands on her lower back as she tries to look at her own ass in her plum leather miniskirt. “My ass looks fantastic in this.”
Carter’s face screws up, eyes narrowing.
“You look hot as fuck.” Cara gives her ass a pat-pat. “Gonna have all the boys—”
“No.” Carter shakes his head as he cracks the top off a beer and drains half of it. “No.”
“I think you look pretty,” Garrett says. I wonder if he realizes he’s halfway to yelling. Probably, because his ears burn red and he promptly strides away, sinking down to the couch.
“I reserved us a private booth with service,” Carter says. “We can stay there. No need to head out to the dance floor.”
Emmett mouths Sorry to Jennie, who rolls her eyes.
“Why the hell are we going to a dance club if you’re not gonna let us dance?” Cara flicks Carter between the eyebrows. “You guys just won the first round of the play-offs; we should be celebrating! And if Jennie wants to celebrate by shaking her ass and grinding against something hard, then so be it. She’s an adult.”
“I wouldn’t mind dancing,” Adam says with a hopeful smile. “Maybe I’ll meet someone.” He frowns. “No, wait. Maybe I’m not ready.” His head wags and he brings his beer to his lips. “No, I’m not ready. I’ll stay at the booth.”
I squeeze his arm. “You’ll meet someone when you’re ready, and she’ll be perfect.”
“Yeah,” Garrett calls over his shoulder. “If Carter can find someone, it’ll be easy as pie for you, bud.” He hesitates. “Fuck. Now I want pie.”
“You’re single!” Carter hollers.
“Yeah, by choice.”
Carter smacks Garrett’s hat off his head. “No, because you’re annoying!”
“You’re annoying!” Garrett hooks his foot around Carter’s knee, and when he goes tumbling to the living room floor, Carter brings him with him.
“Children,” Emmett mutters as the two of them wrestle. “So embarrassing.”
Adam’s head bobs. “The irony is that I’m the youngest.”
“Definitely the most mature though,” Emmett replies, sipping his beer.
“Oh, definitely.”
I’d like to say this right here—the boys bickering, rolling around—isn’t typical, but it is. The most embarrassing part is that I find it—ugh, I don’t even want to say it—endearing. Don’t ask me why; I have no idea. All I know is that this group of men loves each other so much, and watching them be total goofballs is such a stark contrast to the intimidating way they carry themselves on the ice.
“Your boyfriend’s a jerk,” Garrett mumbles when I take a seat beside him on the couch. He’s trying to fix his hair but it’s no use, so he stuffs his hat back on his head. “You should run while you still can.”
Jennie sinks down between us, slinging one leg over the other, and Garrett’s turquoise eyes widen, staring at the strappy black heel bouncing next to his knee.
“Hey. Hi.” He drags his palms down his thighs. “Do you have enough…do you want some more…Let me give you some space.” He rockets to his feet, knocking his hat off his head when he shoves his fingers through his hair. “Anybody want another beer?”
I snicker-snort, nudging Jennie. “Garrett might be scared of you.”
“As he should be. I could kick his ass from here all the way back to the east coast if he so much as looked at me wrong.”
I don’t at all doubt it. Jennie and I have been taking horseback riding lessons together since mid-March, courtesy of her blackmailing her brother. Not only have I learned she’s almost entirely a female replica of Carter—confident and lacking a filter—she’s fierce as hell too. I get to ride a horse every Wednesday after work, but more importantly, I’ve found an incredible friend in Jennie.
We’ve still got an hour to go before our ride comes, so the boys lose themselves in a game of beer pong, one I’m not allowed to play because Carter says I cheat, but he’s just a sore loser. When he takes a ping-pong ball off the head for the third time, I know something’s up. He climbs the stairs, muttering something about checking the plumbing of all things, and I give him two minutes before I follow, locating him on the balcony, leaning over the railing. He’s been off all afternoon since we got back from Hank’s, and I think I know why.
Leaning beside him, I nudge his shoulder with mine. “Hey, you.”
He kisses my forehead. “Hey, princess.”
I follow his gaze, looking out at the sea of evergreens, the caps of the mountains that seem nearly blue from here. Carter’s not really looking though. I can tell by the way his gaze never wavers, the small crease between his brows.
I slip my hand over his. “You’re worried about Hank.”
His shoulders drop with his sigh. “He’s getting older. He doesn’t get around on his own the way he used to. And that bruise…What if he hadn’t been able to get up? And why didn’t he call any of us? He’s so stubborn sometimes.”
“He likes his independence, Carter. He’s fought for it.”
He sighs again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I worry one day he’ll need me and won’t be able to reach the phone. Maybe I should hire a nurse to come in and help him with things a few times a week. Is that a good idea?”
“It’s a great idea, but it’s a conversation you need to have with Hank.”
“He does whatever he wants. He’s stubborn.”
“Mhmm. Like someone else I know.”
Carter chuckles. “Will you talk to him with me? He listens to you more than me.”
“Of course I will.” I brush a wave off his forehead. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?”
“Can we stay here a few more minutes? I like when it’s just me and you.”
When I nod, he pulls me into him, my back against his chest as he hugs me to him, his chin on my shoulder. The late-April air is warm, especially after the winter from hell we had, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of him when he holds me.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I know, pumpkin. Me too. But the nice part about play-offs is it’s never more than two nights away from home.”
“I think I was getting used to it, the partial loneliness.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I don’t want him to think I’m lonely or unhappy; nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve learned to treasure what little time we have together, the nights I get to fall asleep in his arms, and we’ve made the most out of those fleeting moments. But they swept Arizona in four games, which means the boys have been here in Vancouver for a few extra days before their next round. “Sleeping with you so many nights in a row has spoiled me, that’s all.”
Soft lips touch my cheek. “I hate leaving you, Ollie. I’ve never been so eager for the off-season. No hockey, no school, just me and you. You’re gonna be so sick of me come September.”
I snuggle deeper into his hold. “Impossible.”
Carter’s breath dusts over my neck, each inhale more staggered than the last as his fingers methodically brush my arm. He’s anxious, but since we’ve talked about Hank, I’m not sure why.
“When are you going to move in with me?” The request is a gentle, timid whisper against my shoulder, making my entire body tingle and warm, right down to my toes.
I twist in his hold, the golden glow of the spring sun shining on his unexpectedly bashful expression. “Move in with you?”
Carter nods, pulling me down to the lounger with him when he sits. He runs an anxious hand through his messy mop of hair before twining his fingers with mine.
“I love you,” he starts with the phrase he loves to repeat at least a hundred times a day. “I love you so much, and I know it’s soon, but fuck, Ollie, I just really love you. When I’m gone, all I can think about is cuddling you on the couch, or falling asleep with you in my arms, or you walking around the house in the morning wearing nothing but my T-shirt with your sleepy smile, your curls trying to escape from your messy bun. When I get off the plane, you’re the first person I want to see. And when I’m home…I want you to be home too. I want us to be home together.”
How did I find this man? How did I get so irrefutably lucky? Carter’s the best thing in my life with the way he stormed in, tore down walls I didn’t know I had, lit my whole world up like a burst of sunshine. And I can’t imagine anything better than being home together.
“What if I want you to move in with me?” I don’t. My tiny house feels like it’s bursting when Carter’s inside. His legs dangle off my bed and my kitchen only has the capacity to hold enough food to last the man two days, at most. More than that, it doesn’t quite feel like my home anymore.
But I like to tease him, and when he’s nervous like this, a little humor goes a long way in diffusing his tension.
His lids fall shut with the exhale he forces through his nose. Emerald eyes dance with amusement when they meet mine. “But where will I park my five cars?”
I roll my eyes and shove his shoulder, but he keeps going.
“We won’t be able to fit our doggie on the bed, and we’ll have no room for all the babies I’m going to put inside you, ultimately destroying your vagina beyond repair. But worst of all…” He drags his mouth across mine, voice low, thick. “No fireplaces.”
I can’t help but look at this man of mine, who I’m so devastatingly in love with, and the picture he paints of the life we’ll lead together. And I know without a doubt, despite the small handfuls of months we’ve been together, it’s what I want.
Carter brushes a fallen strand from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I don’t want you to watch my dog while I go away. I want to get a dog with you. I want you to be my baby-doggie mama.”
“Baby-doggie mama?”
“Yeah. And eventually real-baby mama.” His searing gaze holds mine as he cups my face. “I love you, Ollie, and what I want more than anything is to make a home with you. Say yes.”
“Say yes? Is that a demand?”
“Yes.” It’s more snarl than word.
I bite back my smile. “Okay.”
“Okay?” His grip on my face tightens, eyes bouncing between mine. “Is that a yes?”
“I didn’t think I had a choice where demands were concerned.”
Carter’s grin is detonating as he shoves me to my back and crawls overtop of me like an animal on the hunt who’s caught the scent.
I push his unruly waves off his forehead, threading my fingers through his silky locks. “There’s nothing I’d love more than building a life with you here. So, yes. A thousand times yes. I’ll move in with you.”
Carter buries his tongue in my mouth, but before I have time to enjoy it, he yanks me off the couch and dashes down the stairs with me in his arms.
“She said yes!”
The volume in the room promptly dies, and I drop my face to my hand as every surprised gaze lifts to us.
“You’re getting married?” Garrett finally asks.
Carter’s face scrunches. “What? I mean, eventually, yeah, but…” He drops me to my feet, spreads his arms wide, and does a spin. “Olivia’s moving in!”