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

  “Let’s just meet at the gym,” he said.

  “Okay.” I opened the door, and he stepped into the hall.

  “What time?”

  “Five thirty.”

  “What?” He looked petrified.

  I looked up at him with a smile. “Is that too early for you?”

  “No.” He kissed my cheek. “It’s not.” He smiled and walked away. “See you tomorrow.”

  I shut the door and sank down to the floor, touching my cheek with my hand.

  Maybe there was some hope left for us after all.

  Chapter 5

  Carter

  Bailey Lewis. She was all I thought about these days. And if I wasn’t in total denial, I’d admit the real reason she was always on my mind—from the moment we met, I’d wanted to be next to her.

  She was sweet and ambitious. A surprising combination, since I’d always found the two to be mutually exclusive. Especially when it came to women.

  But I could never give her what she wanted. Despite the fact that I loved everything about her. The way she laughed. The way she said my name. The way she got nervous all of a sudden.

  And when she looked at me, that adorable face was enough to stop my heart.

  I had to stop this. I had to stop seeing her. And I would—at some point.

  But I needed her too much to say goodbye now.

  If I were smart, I’d have shut her out of my life completely the night we met. It would have made it easier to get over her. But I’ve always been a glutton for punishment. Why shape up now?

  My alarm went off at five a.m. and I felt like death. I’d been in restaurant management for five years. Not once had I gotten up this early. That’s when I realized this woman was going to kill me.

  I downed a cup of coffee and grabbed my water bottle. Then I sprinted the couple blocks to the gym.

  Bailey wasn’t waiting for me outside. And last time I checked, the place wasn’t even open this early. But then I saw her through the window, and she came over to open the door for me.

  “You’re here,” she said, looking up at me.

  “You sound surprised.” I let the door close behind us and followed her to the back.

  “It’s just so early. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.” She led me into a private room. “You don’t seem like the early bird type.”

  “Nope.” I looked around. “I’m afraid not. The restaurant business is all about the night life.”

  She smiled and hopped on a treadmill. “I usually run for a few minutes to get warmed up.”

  “Okay.” I drank some water and then set the bottle down. “Who lets you use the gym this early?”

  “Friend of a friend,” she said, increasing her speed as she moved her arms at her sides.

  “Now that doesn’t sound very cryptic at all.”

  “Well, actually, it’s more of a security thing.”

  “What do you mean?” I leaned against the treadmill beside her.

  “Because of my father,” she said. “It can be kind of a madhouse.”

  “I see.” I nodded.

  She slowed to a brisk walk. “You’re the only person I know who’s never asked me about him.”

  “Would you like me to?”

  She turned the treadmill off and looked at me. “Not particularly. I just always wondered why.”

  “Everyone knows who your father is. Maybe I just want to get to know you.”

  “It doesn’t intimidate you?” she asked.

  “No.” I held her gaze. “Should it?”

  “No. But it intimidates everybody else. Especially guys. I never know what to do about it. I mean, even if I try to hide my identity, whatever guy I date is going to find out eventually.”

  She stepped off the treadmill and picked up a bottle of water. As she drank it, I watched her. She was wearing a hot pink sports bra and little black shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she didn’t have much makeup on.

  She looked gorgeous.

  “All right, Mr. Boudreaux.” She turned around. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Did you already stretch?” I took my shirt off and laid it on a bench.

  She swallowed and looked away. “Yeah, umm, a little bit.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why did you take your shirt off?” she murmured.

  “Because we’re about to work out,” I said.

  “Okay.” She wiggled her arms. “Then let’s stretch.”

  After a few minutes of that, I led her over to the dumbbells. She’d used free weights before, so she had no problem with her reps. While I did mine, she got out a jump rope and amazed me with her stamina. She was actually in pretty good shape for someone who claimed to take the occasional run.

  We got on the floor next, taking turns doing sit-ups. I let her go first. Then we switched, and she seemed pretty eager to hold my shoes and count. Since I hadn’t gotten much sleep, my abs were burning. But I maxed out at three hundred, which wasn’t bad considering my state of exhaustion.

  “How do you feel about push-ups?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes and I laughed.

  “What?”

  She sat up with her legs crossed. “Not my favorite exercise.”

  “Come on,” I said. “They’re not that bad.”

  “Fine, but I can only do the girl ones.”

  “That’s okay.” I did mine at the same time, and then we were both out of breath.

  She lay down on the flat of her back, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I’ve heard that push-ups are good for your... chest. Is that true?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Your pecs, your arms, your shoulders.”

  “I mean, I heard that they’ll make your breasts bigger.”

  “Well.” I felt my pecs. “Mine are gettin’ pretty—”

  “Stop it!” She giggled and shoved my arm. “You know what I mean.”

  I laughed and wiped the sweat from my face. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Well do they or not?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “They can. Why?”

  She bit her lip. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Always.”

  “Do men really care about breasts? I mean, how big do they have to be?”

  I furrowed my brow, because I couldn’t figure out why she was asking this.

  “It doesn’t really work like that.”

  “So you’re telling me men don’t notice breasts at all?” she asked.

  “Sure, we do. But they don’t have to be the size of a watermelon.”

  “Then what do they have to be the size of?” she snipped.

  “They don’t have to be the size of anything. Where is this coming from?”

  “It’s nothing. I’ve just always wondered how men actually feel about it.”

  I sighed. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but you don’t need to worry about that. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And when it comes to men, we just want you to look healthy and fit. Keep working out and whatever you’re worried about will take care of itself.” I watched her lying there on her back, listening to me.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  I propped up on my elbow. “Doing what?”

  “Being nice to me.”

  “I don’t know.” I searched her eyes. “Maybe I want to.”

  “So how did I do the first day?”

  “Not too shabby.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “But these abs...” I put my hand on her stomach. “...are going to be sore tomorrow.”

  She pushed my hand away and got up, avoiding eye contact. Then she grabbed her things and walked out the door. Confused and shocked, I ran out of the room and caught her at the main entrance.

  “Hey.” I grabbed her arm, but she wouldn’t look at me. “Bailey. What’s wrong?”

  “I have to get ready for work.”

  “Is everything all right?”

 
She nodded.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I’ll text you,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She opened the door and high tailed it out of there. I stood there looking out the window until I couldn’t see her anymore. Then I went back to the private room and grabbed my water bottle. I put my shirt back on and left the gym. But on the way to my apartment, I kept replaying what had happened in my mind.

  What had happened? I didn’t have a clue.

  So I headed to Bailey’s apartment instead. And banged on the door until she opened up.

  “Carter.” She was still wearing her gym clothes. “What are you doing here?”

  “What happened back there?” I leaned against the doorjamb. “Did I say something?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Was it something I did?”

  “No.”

  “Then what the hell happened? You darted out of there like a bolt of lightning.”

  “Carter, I can’t talk about this right now. I have to get ready for—”

  “Your store doesn’t open for hours. Let me take you out to breakfast.”

  “No.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I need to take a shower.”

  “And you can do that when we get back.”

  She looked into my eyes, seeing how determined I was.

  “You need to eat. Aren’t you starving?”

  “Fine,” she snarled, grabbing her purse. “You’re so annoying.”

  I grinned and moved out of the way so she could lock the door. We walked to a restaurant and grabbed a table outside. I ordered black coffee with a full breakfast. She asked for green tea and a muffin.

  “If you’re going to be working out with me, you can’t eat like a bird,” I said once the waitress left. “You can have some of mine if you want.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She wrapped her hands around her tea cup. But she hadn’t taken the first sip.

  “So are you going to tell me?” I asked.

  “Tell you what?”

  “What happened today.” I watched her. “It’s like you freaked out. I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

  “Nothing,” she hissed. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “Then what is it?” I tried to touch her arm, but she pulled away. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

  She set her tea down and folded her hands. It was like she couldn’t sit still. There was a pained look in her eyes. I wanted to know what was wrong with her so I could at least try to fix it.

  “I don’t know how to be close to someone,” she said. “The way I’d like to be close to a man.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She took a breath and looked away. For a second, I thought she was about to cry.

  “I just freeze.” She looked into my eyes.

  I leaned over the table and lowered my voice. “You mean, if he touches you?”

  She nodded. “I want to be affectionate. I really do. I just don’t know how.”

  And it hit me. I’d put my hand on her stomach. And then she’d bolted.

  “Has it always been like this?” I asked.

  “No. I’m not a cold person. I’m really affectionate with my family.”

  “Maybe that’s because you’re close to your family. You’re comfortable around them.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled at the waitress as she served our breakfast.

  But I couldn’t take my eyes off Bailey.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “An extra plate.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back with that extra plate for you.”

  “You’re really serious about me eating breakfast,” Bailey said.

  “I want you to be fed.” I thanked the waitress when she handed me the extra plate. Then I slid half of my scrambled eggs onto it. I gave her a generous helping of hash browns and a thick slice of bacon. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  She took the plate from me. There was a pretty flush of red against her cheeks.

  “Thank you.” She set the plate down and picked up her fork.

  “You want to know something else about men from a man himself?”

  She took a bite of eggs and nodded with a smile. “Sure.”

  “There are two things that no man will ever turn down. Food is one of them.”

  She averted her eyes. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  I polished off the hash browns on my plate and wiped my mouth. “Yeah.”

  “I’m a decent cook, but I could be better at it.”

  “I can teach you how to cook something that will have a man beating your door down.”

  She giggled. “And what’s that? Steak? A rack of ribs?”

  “Why don’t you come by my place tonight and I’ll show you?”

  “I have to work.”

  “Your store closes at six.”

  She slanted me a look. “Did you memorize my store hours?”

  “Well, they are on the front door.”

  “True. But what about you? Don’t you have to work?”

  “I own the place. I’ll just take the night off.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t that two nights in a row?”

  “Well, yeah but...” I drifted off, realizing that I hadn’t taken that much time off in.... well, ever.

  “Thank you for breakfast.” She looked at her empty plate. “I guess I was hungry.”

  I smiled and opened my wallet to pay for the meal. She put her fist under her chin and looked off, daydreaming about something. I put cash on the table, including the tip, and glanced up at her.

  As she stared into the distance, I admired the rare beauty sitting across from me and wondered why she couldn’t see how perfect she already was.

  I LEFT THE RESTAURANT at five after six. It was an odd feeling, since I was such a control freak about my business. But I really wanted to see Bailey again. And while I rarely agreed with Max, I knew he wouldn’t burn down the place. Besides, I’d left the assistant manager in charge.

  I opened the door to Bailey’s shop and walked around. But there was nobody out front.

  “We’re closed.” Bailey appeared from the back, lugging a very heavy box. “Carter.”

  “Hey.” I smiled when I saw her. “Let me help you with that.”

  “Oh, umm okay.” She bit her lip and blushed. “I thought we were meeting at your place.”

  “Yeah, but I run my own business, too.” I followed her into the back and set the box down where she instructed me to. “And if you don’t leave within the first twenty minutes of closing time, you never will.”

  She pressed out a pleasant smile. “I was planning on going home first to change.”

  “Why?” I looked her up and down. “You look great.”

  “Thanks.” She went to her desk and turned her computer off. “There was a little more work I wanted to get done.” She turned around and looked up at me. “But I guess it can wait.”

  “Sure it can.” I grabbed her hand. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  “That’s true.”

  “You deserve a break.” I put my hand on her back so I could pull her closer.

  “Just let me grab my bag.” She went through a door that led to the back.

  I put my hands in my pockets and looked around. There were a couple pictures on her desk. I recognized her father in one of them. But everyone else was a stranger to me.

  “Ready?” She came out and shut the door behind her.

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  She led me out the entrance and locked up. All the lights were off as I took one last look at the shop. It looked different in the dark with no customers. Sort of like the restaurant did at night.

  “So what’s for dinner?” she asked. “I’m starving.”

  “It’s a surprise.” I walked with her on the sidewalk.

  “Come on, you’re no fun.”

  I
slid my arm around her waist as we stepped out of the way. The sidewalk was crowded, but it was really just an excuse to touch her. She didn’t pull away, so I kept my arm around her until we reached my apartment.

  “Here we are.” I unlocked the door and let her inside.

  “Wow.” She walked into the living room. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” I headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

  She didn’t say anything as I left. I checked my reflection in the mirror and then put on some cologne. I thought about changing clothes, since I’d just come from work. But she hadn’t been able to, so it didn’t seem right.

  When I walked into the kitchen, she was rubbing her ankle. “Do your feet hurt?”

  “It’s these shoes,” she said. “The price of glamour.”

  “Take ‘em off.” I opened the fridge.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t mind. You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  “You have a point.” She thought about it while I rifled through pots and pans. I wanted her to feel like the decision was hers. Like I wasn’t telling her what to do. But I smiled when I saw her take them off.

  “Would you like to be my sous chef for the evening?”

  “For Carter Boudreaux?” She touched her chest. “Would I?”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

  She laughed and came in the kitchen barefoot. “I’m just teasin’ you.”

  My whole body shuddered as she bumped her side against mine. Being with Bailey made me happy. I even liked myself better when she was around. And that had never happened before.

  “On the menu for tonight...” I waved my hand over the counter at our ingredients. “...we have lemon roasted chicken, buttery mashed potatoes and fried okra.”

  “And this meal is guaranteed to win over any man?”

  “No, not any man.” I gave her a possessive look. “The right one.”

  She blushed and leaned against the counter. “How can I help?”

  For the next hour, I told her about growing up in Louisiana. Creole food warmed my heart, because I’d been raised on it. But sadly, my birthplace hadn’t felt like home in a long time. No place did.

  “What part of Louisiana are you from?” she asked.

  “Baton Rouge.”

  “What’s it like there?” She mashed the potatoes in a pot on the stove.