An Agreement (Summer in New York Book 3) Read online

  My eyes settled on each one. She looked so sweet and innocent. She looked like my girl.

  “Did you go to college, Carter?” he asked.

  “Yes. LSU.” I handed the picture frames back. “They’re beautiful.”

  He smiled and showed me a picture of Claire. “When my wife was pregnant with Bailey.”

  “She looks a lot like her. But I can see how she favors you, too.”

  “Well.” He put the pictures back. “She does have my eyes.”

  I didn’t know how to have this conversation. So I sat there and grinned.

  “What was your major?” he asked. “In college?”

  “Business,” I said. “With a minor in French.”

  “French? That’s impressive. I’ve picked up a little Italian here and there.”

  I nodded, pressing my lips together. I’d brought the ring with me today. Was that stupid? Were you supposed to do that before you asked permission? Wouldn’t that imply that I’d already made the decision without him? Which made it look like his approval wasn’t really a sticking point?

  “How is Bailey?” he asked.

  “Good.” I wiped my hands on my pants. “Really good.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You should bring her over to the house sometime. I feel like we never see her.”

  “You know how much her store means to her. She’s so busy working all the time,” I confessed.

  “Well, I can’t say much because that sounds just like me. That Lewis work ethic is in her blood.”

  “Yes, I believe it is.”

  “And your restaurant? Austin tells me it’s doing well,” he mentioned.

  “Yes. I’ve been very lucky. Austin’s helped me make a lot of new business contacts.”

  “That’s good. We’re hard workers in this family. I’m sure Austin’s told you that. I’m happy to see Bailey with someone like you. Owning a restaurant, I’m sure there is a lot you already understand.”

  “Yeah. I would agree with that.”

  This is so awkward. What are you doing? Say something! Ask him!

  “What brings you here today, Carter?” he asked, putting me on the spot.

  Do I ease into it or cut right to the chase?

  “Not to rush you, but I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes and—”

  “Yes, I know you’re a very busy man. Thank you for letting me come by today.”

  He was watching me very carefully now. I was probably testing his patience.

  “The reason why I wanted to come by and see you today is because, well, Bailey and I have been getting pretty serious over the past month or so. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  He nodded, but the smile had left his face. He was tired of waiting. He wanted me to get to the point.

  “Since I met your daughter, everything has changed. She’s turned my whole world upside down. And I mean that in a good way. She’s just, well, pretty much the best thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.”

  He was staring me down like a hawk now, waiting for the punch line.

  “What I’m trying to say, sir, is that I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  His blue eyes widened. Bailey’s eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, sir.” I kept a straight face. “As serious as it gets.”

  He winced with a furrowed brow. “But you’ve only known each other—”

  “A few months,” I answered. “I know.”

  He stood up and walked over to the window, staring through the glass pane. “Why?”

  “Excuse me, sir?” My mouth went dry, like I’d just eaten a bag of salted chips.

  “Why do you want to marry my daughter?” he asked.

  “Well, sir.” I licked my lips. They felt like they were about to crack. “She’s just the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She makes me feel like I can do anything, be anything I want to be. I haven’t felt that way in years.” I looked him in the eye. “I love her. I want to make her my wife.”

  He took a breath. “I’m sure you’re doing well financially. But Bailey can take care of herself.” He returned to his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. “I’m not worried about whether you’ll be able to provide for her. I am worried, however, about whether or not you’ll be able to take care of her.”

  I frowned, because he had me at a total loss. “I’m sorry. I don’t...”

  “Bailey has been through a lot. You can’t imagine how rough the past few years have been for her.”

  That made my insides twist awkwardly. The thought of her in pain made me hurt.

  “I don’t want her to jump in a marriage that’s not going to last.”

  “What makes you think it wouldn’t last?” I asked, offended.

  “I’m not saying it wouldn’t.” He held his hand up. “But you haven’t been together that long. And I just think it would be better if you date for a longer period of time before you go rushing into marriage. Don’t you want to make sure that this can really work long term?”

  “I don’t have a doubt in my mind,” I said. “I want to be with her forever.”

  “What about Bailey?” he asked. “Have you talked to her about this?”

  “Well, no. But that’s because then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “Look, Carter. You seem like a decent enough guy. I know Bailey is crazy about you. But marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly. You want to make sure that you really know what you’re getting yourself into. If Bailey married you, she would want it to last a lifetime. You need to want that, too.”

  “That is what I want,” I said. “As far as the institution of marriage is concerned, I know how serious of a decision it is.” I studied his face for any signs of disapproval. “Because I’ve been married before.”

  He didn’t blink. “Divorced?”

  And neither did I. “Widower.”

  He gave a slight grimace, which made me realize exactly how much I could trust Austin. I’d shared private information with him, and he had yet to run back to Ben and blab. That made me respect him even more.

  “I’m so sorry, Carter. I had no idea.”

  “It was a car accident about five years ago.”

  He casually glanced at the paperwork on his desk. “I’ll tell you what, Carter. Bailey is an adult now. And while I really appreciate you asking for my permission, the choice is ultimately up to her. If she says yes, then you can count that as a yes from me, too. I still say it’s too soon. But that’s really not my place to be making those kinds of decisions. You seem to make my daughter really happy. And there was a time when...” He met my gaze warily. “Well, when I worried that she might not ever be happy.”

  “I know what happened. She told me everything.”

  He looked at me like we understood each other.

  “And if I’d known Bailey then,” I lowered my voice, “I’d have done the same thing.”

  He looked away and his eyes settled on a photo of her. We both knew what had happened. Like Austin, he’d never talk about it. That was fine by me. So long as he always remained that protective.

  “I love your daughter, Mr. Lewis. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.”

  He flicked those blue eyes up at me. The ones I saw staring back at me every night.

  “As long as she’ll have me,” I said.

  “I think that’s about all a father can hope for.” He smiled all of a sudden, rising to shake my hand. “I’m not trying to deter you from marrying her. I’m just thinking of what’s best for my daughter.”

  I stood and we shook hands. “No, I understand. You’re just being a good dad.”

  “Thank you. Just make sure this is something she wants, too.”

  I nodded, reaching into my pocket. “I bought a ring.” I opened the box and let him look at it. “I’ve got my heart set on surprising her. But if you think she won’t like it—”

  He shut the ring box and handed it back to me. “I don’t think
you have anything to worry about.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I shook his hand with a big fat grin on my face.

  “You know, you never really needed my permission. But I’m glad you asked for it anyway.”

  “Thank you for seeing me today,” I said. “I know you’re a very busy man.”

  “Let me know what she says, Carter. And good luck.”

  I gave him a cordial wave and headed out the door.

  With the way my life had gone so far, I was going to need it.

  Chapter 18

  Bailey

  The moment I walked in the door, I kicked off my shoes and landed on the couch. Today had been so busy. While I wanted to attribute it to the previous day off, I knew deep down that I still would have worked that hard. But I was glad to be home, lounging around while Carter was at the restaurant.

  Home. I looked around at Carter’s apartment. Somehow, I’d gone from nesting at my place to his. But I really did feel at home here. Honestly, home was wherever he was. I wondered if he’d thought about moving in together. I’d been thinking about it for a while. But with the loss of his wife, maybe it was too much too soon. If he asked me, I’d move in and give up my place in a heartbeat. Even though I liked having my own space and I’d always loved my apartment, I was ready to take the next step whenever he was. But there was no need to rush. I didn’t want to screw up a good thing by moving too fast.

  If I scared him off, I’d always regret it. When he wanted more, he would tell me.

  Carter would be home late tonight. So I changed out of my work clothes and thought about what I wanted to do for dinner. Penny had invited me out for a girls’ night, but I was just too exhausted. So I went to bed and dozed off for about an hour. When I woke up, I was starving.

  Stifling a yawn, I padded into the kitchen and found some leftover steaks in the fridge. There was a bottle of merlot on the counter. Carter knew it was my favorite. So I poured myself a glass and made a salad while the steak was re-heating in the oven. Then I ate dinner alone in front of the TV.

  There was a movie on, some romantic comedy, a classic actually. But I’d seen it so many times that I wasn’t really paying attention. It was white noise, more or less, while I waited for Carter to come home. I kept looking at the door any time I heard a sound, perking my ears up like a dog anxious to see its owner.

  That seemed kind of sad, so I turned off the movie and jumped in the shower. But then there was his body wash, a green gel that smelled like juniper and pine. I opened the lid and closed my eyes, taking a whiff. When I realized what I was doing, I put the bottle down.

  Maybe I was a little too attached to Carter. But I’d never really been attached to anybody.

  No guy had given me a chance to be clingy. Then again, I hadn’t exactly made myself available.

  After my shower, I slipped into a plain white tee. It belonged to Carter, but I’d gotten in the habit of wearing his clothes. He always said they looked better on me. My cheeks flushed red at the thought.

  I made a cup of chamomile tea and walked around the apartment. Peering out the window, I looked down at the city. It was so peaceful at night. Not all the bright lights and sounds. But the dark tapestry up above.

  I couldn’t see the stars. But I knew they were there.

  I turned around and smiled, sipping my tea. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets. It made me tingle a little when I thought about what we’d done there this morning. And last night.

  Being with Carter had turned me into a total sap. But I loved it.

  Since we met, I saw the whole world in a new light. Maybe life really was awesome.

  And I’d been denying myself the best part of it.

  The door to the closet opened and I shrieked, spilling tea all over the floor. Carter stepped out and shut the door behind him. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me.”

  I caught my breath and put my hand to my chest. He came over and pulled me into his arms, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. I shut my eyes and relaxed, soaking up the warmth he always provided.

  “When I got home, you were in the shower,” he explained.

  “Oh.” I looked over his shoulder. “What were you doing in the closet?”

  “Nothin’.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Just picking out my clothes for tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” I noticed the floor. “Let me clean this up. I’m sorry I made a mess.”

  “It’s okay.” He followed me into the kitchen. “Let me help you.”

  We got the stains out of the carpet. There weren’t that many and the tea was very light. But he seemed a little weird the whole time, not saying much. I asked him about work, but all he gave were one word answers. It made me feel uneasy. But maybe I was overthinking it, like I always did with everything.

  “I need to brush my teeth and get ready for bed,” I told him, fleeing to the bathroom.

  When he came in a few minutes later, I saw his reflection in the mirror. He sat down on the edge of the tub and watched me. He was rubbing his hands together in the way he usually did when there was something he didn’t want to talk about. The possibilities running through my head had me going crazy.

  I rinsed my mouth out and put my toothbrush away. Then I splashed cool water on my face and patted it dry with a towel. He came up behind me and slid his arms around my waist, watching us in the glass. I tilted my head to the side as he rested his chin at the crux of my neck and shoulder, squeezing me tight.

  “Did you have a good day?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “It was all right, I guess. Busy.”

  He brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “You look tired.”

  “Thanks.” I broke out of his arms and walked away.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  I stopped in the doorway, turning back to eye him.

  “I just want you to be happy.” He touched my hand, but I stayed still.

  That stung. Maybe a little more than it should have. Why would he think that I wasn’t?

  “I am happy,” I said. There was a pensive look in his eyes.

  With the way he stared, I had to turn my back and leave. I went to bed and brushed my hair, feeling this weird tension between us. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but something just didn’t feel right.

  He popped his head in the doorway. “Do you want anything to eat?”

  “I already brushed my teeth.”

  “Oh, right. I had a late lunch, so I think I’ll just...” He pointed his thumb at the kitchen.

  “Okay. I’m going to bed. It’s late and I have to get up early in the morning.”

  He nodded, watching me like he was in a daze. “Okay.” He closed the door quietly and left.

  I turned the light out and lay down, hugging his pillow. What was wrong with me?

  All of a sudden, I felt this distance between us. We’d been so close yesterday. But now it was like a new brick went down every second, heightening and solidifying the wall between us. I felt trapped and anxious, like I couldn’t control it. Somehow, all of it still felt like my fault.

  I thought about how excited I’d been earlier, anticipating the minute he got home. But nothing was happening the way I’d imagined. He probably thought I was being cold. To be honest, I had been.

  I felt warm tears spilling out from my eyes. Today had been so stressful, so non-stop. When I got off work, Carter was the first person I wanted to see. But then I’d come home to an empty apartment where I ate dinner alone. Would it always be like this? Most nights, would I have dinner solo?

  I couldn’t sleep. And I’d always heard that it’s not wise to go to bed angry. Negative thoughts were swarming in my brain like a herd of bees. So I pushed the covers back and padded into the kitchen.

  Carter stood at the counter, eating leftover lasagna on a paper plate. He heard me and looked up, his eyes raking over my face with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming towards me.

  I fell into his ar
ms and cried on his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair and pulled me closer, cradling the back of my head with his hand. I caught my breath and he lifted my chin with his finger.

  “Sweetheart.” He whisked me to the couch. “What is it? Please. Tell me.”

  “I don’t know.” I tangled my fingers together. “I just—”

  “Did somethin’ happen?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?” He cupped my cheek in his hand.

  “It’s just that tonight, when I got off work, I was so excited to see you.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. “But then you weren’t here. And I know you said you were working late...”

  “That’s why I took off yesterday so we could spend the whole day together,” he said.

  “I know.” I finally looked up, brave enough to glance his way. “It’s not anything you did.”

  “You had a long day. You’re probably just really tired.”

  “I know,” I said again. “It’s just that...”

  “What?” he asked, when I had a problem spitting it out.

  “I really wanted to spend time with you.” I saw betrayal in his eyes.

  “It’s not like I didn’t want to do that, too,” he said. “I was working.”

  “I know that,” I snipped. “You’re always working.”

  He clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared. “And you’re not?”

  “Not until midnight!” I heard the edge to my voice.

  “You realize I run a restaurant, right? Or did you forget that part?”

  “I used to work around the clock, too. But when you came into the picture, I started scaling it back.”

  He stood up and paced the floor, hands on hips. “So what do you want me to do, Bailey? Quit my job?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Well, that’s what it sounds like.” He had the most irritating, critical tone.

  “No, I never said that! But can’t you cut back how many hours you work? Just a couple nights a week,” I suggested.

  “I own the place, Bailey! If something goes wrong, my ass is on the line!” he shouted.

  “But you don’t have to be there every second,” I reasoned. “You’re the owner. Hire someone to manage the restaurant. Then you won’t have to do as much hands on stuff. And you could open up more locations—”