Text Me Part 19

He surveyed their surroundings. "Here? Now?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Unless you want to delay the agony?"

"Agony where you're concerned sounds pretty good to me. So, it's my choice? We can do this right here or whenever, wherever I want?" He looked surprised.

"I guess so, but why wait? Let's get this over with." She was ready. Apparently, he wasn't.

He dropped his arms and slipped his hands into the pockets of his frayed shorts. "I'm trying to think which question to ask."

He was making this ridiculously difficult. "You have that many? Why don't I start then?"

"Hey, I won. Not you. You don't get to ask anything."

"What are you afraid of? I might ask something personal? Get under your skin?"

He shrugged. "Already did that, remember? Under my skin, on top of it, wrapped in it-you name it."

Her face flushed when the booth attendant leaned over and pulled the shotgun from under her behind and handed it to a kid, apologizing. "Oh, sorry. We'll move."

The guy grinned. "I was enjoying it, but we're kinda busy."

Abby strode back toward the tables they'd vacated. "So, ask. Or lose your turn. This isn't going on forever. There's an expiration date."

"On honesty? So there are rules now? Figures. Okay, here you go." He grabbed her arms, spun her around, and dipped his head dangerously close.

d.a.m.ned if his smell didn't make her want to close the gap. If it weren't for the red hot anger flaring in his eyes, she would have. Most likely an incredibly stupid move. He might have pushed her away.

He was driving her crazy. His chest grazed hers and, for a second, his wall of fury seemed to waver. He glanced down as her chest heaved with the breathing that came in gasps. Mainly because there was little more than a hair between them. "Do you think about me when you're in bed with Jackson?"

"What? Are you serious?" She glanced around at the throng of people within earshot-at least three glanced their way. One of which was-Dr. Bernard. Gulp.

"As a heart attack." His nostrils flared and he leaned closer, seemingly unaware of their audience.

She bent backward as he loomed above, his hands clenching her arms. What a stupid thing to ask. In order for her to say yes, which apparently he wanted to hear, she would have had to been in bed with Jackson at some point. So, while she'd sworn honesty-she had to say ... "No."

He released her arms and she fell backward. Right on her b.u.t.t. The gravel dug into her hip. That'll leave a bruise. He turned and stomped toward the cars.

"Wait! Let me finish." She crawled to her knees then lifted up. He was fifty feet past before she caught up.

He'd stopped abruptly at one of the craft booths and stared. "Abby, you ever wear one of those?" He pointed to something in a costume booth complete with ornate outfits from every century, cartoon, movie, or character.

What? She focused, trying to understand the sudden change. "Huh?"

He pointed at the camera booth behind the outfits. "Let's do it. Get a picture. What do you say? I'll pick yours, you pick mine."

First, he was mad and leaving, then he wanted a picture? What the h.e.l.l?

"Have you lost your mind?"

Carter shook the hair surrounding that lost mind fervently. "Nope, but I thought it might be fun to see you wearing this." He reached into a rack full of clothing and yanked out the dress on the end then turned it for her to see. A pilgrim-like dress of drab colors with a bright red A in cursive emblazoned on the chest. The Scarlet Letter. Seriously? He raised a brow, mocking her.

"Oh. Yeah, I bet you would. Let me see. I'll wear it, if you wear that one. She pointed at a hanger covered in bulky green b.u.mps. It was shoved in the back, but she knew what it was right from the start. There was no way he'd wear that. Not ever. The big green machine? The Hulk? Not him. He was too seriously p.i.s.sed off.

"Okay." He shoved the hanger against her chest.

She rubbed where a bruise was sure to appear. "Seriously?"

"Afraid?"

Her? Afraid? Nope. "Not me, but once you get that on, I have to see it. No, I want a picture." She walked to the green b.u.mps, pulled them from the rack, and held it forward.

He chuckled. "No worries. I can rock this thing."

Abby doubted that. No one looked good in green bulges. "Just curious-why'd you cave?"

"Nothing would make me happier than to see you in the costume that fits your true nature at the moment. You can probably wear the scarlet letter better than little Hester did. Too bad we can't go back in time."

Yikes. He wants to see me hang?

She stepped into a changing booth while Carter slipped the photographer some cash. She stepped out of her clothes and hung them on a hook then slipped into the dress. She smirked at the look. As she remembered, the girl in the book had a very high-necked, Colonial style dress. The dress in the mirror was nothing close. The dipped neckline exposed a fairly large amount of cleavage with the large red A strategically placed to point right to the darkness of the cleavage shadow. The back had a lace-up corset-style she hadn't bothered to tie. Ridiculous. She shrugged and stepped out.

Plunk. Her face smashed against the largest ma.s.s of green fabric muscles ever. Carter wrapped the fake bulges around her and squeezed so hard, she saw nothing but darkness. Green, dusty smelling, darkness.

"How's that for muscle, Abs? Nothing like the Hulk. Man, I loved those movies when I was a kid. Check it out." He stepped back-or rather waddled back-in the ma.s.sive thunder thighs covered in a tiny pair of ripped jeans shorts. She couldn't help but giggle. Carter held his hands out and flexed with gritted teeth.

"You look like a giant Brussels sprout."

"Hey! Don't hate the muscles. Look at my six-pack." He thumped the over-inflated chest of the costume.

She wasn't going to tell him the real one was better.

He frowned. "You look like-I expected."

A girl in a barmaid costume patted him on the back. "Your face, sweetie." She held out a tub of green goo. "Just wipe it on. It washes off."

"Nah, this is good enough." He held his palms up and tried to step backward but the giant nubs of his fake feet tangled and he fell flat. On his back.

Abby grabbed the tub and dove on top, sprawled eagle. "Oh, you'll wear it, all right. I'll put it on you myself. If you're going to make me wear this, you have to do the full get-up." She swiped his forehead and cheeks then smudged it around until his face was completely green.

Carter tried to put an arm around her but the bulging fabric muscles kept getting in his way. He was stuck flat on his back. "Think you could help me up?"

Abby rose and reached a hand out for his. He held up a green boulder-like paw and she pulled-the hand off. "Oh my G.o.d! Here, give me your hand. The real one." She dropped the green glove and grasped his skinned fingers. She tried to pull him to his feet. No go. She straddled one of the green legs, bent her knees, reared back, and pulled with both hands. Then fell flat onto him again.

"Geez, that thing must weigh a ton." Her over-exposed bosom smashed against his slimed-green cheeks. The slickness left a swath of green makeup up the side of her neck. Gross.

Abby tried to lift up. The bubbled fabric worked like pillows or rather wedges-to push down until her chest was planted across his-nose.

"Abby?"

"I know. I know. I'm trying. It's just-those stupid muscles are like a fabric slide. I can't move."

His voice was m.u.f.fled and hot against her breastplate. "Here, let me roll over."

She put a hand to his shoulder, but it only slipped and dropped her right back into place. "Oomph. Sorry."

"Hold still." He murmured. "I can't breathe."

"'Kay."

A loud roar ensued behind them. Abby a.s.sumed there was a show starting. She peered over a green boulder. Yep. There was a show, all right. The ma.s.sive lace petticoat of her dress was hoisted up like a tent above her. She could only image what her blue and pink hearted panties looked like under all that lace as she flailed to get a balance on the green bulk of Carter's costume. Yikes. Her face flushed.

"Um, Carter?" She felt a cool breeze on her backside.

"I've almost got it. Rock with me, okay?" He rolled to the right then s.h.i.+fted and rolled back. They started to tip over then fell back. Thud.

Abby was certain her entire chest was now slathered in green gooey makeup. "Carter, my a.s.s is showing."

He snorted into her cleavage. "It wouldn't be the first time. Wish I could help you but I'm a little stuck. Rock again." He grabbed her back with his exposed hand-only with the petticoat above her head there was only skin and panties. He clutched tight as they lurched to the side.

A scolding glare was wasted since his face was stuck underneath. She grasped the shoulders of the green costume and leaned hard to the right. Thankfully, they tipped enough to flip over.

Only she ended up under a big green cus.h.i.+on with dirt and gra.s.s in the crack of her b.u.t.t.

Roars of laughter surrounded them. Seconds later, Carter was whisked off by some bystanders, and she looked up to blue skies and white puffy clouds. Abby blinked then wiped the green smudge from her eyes.

She glared at him, recognizing the fact his face was only green down one side-meaning she was also green down one side. "You happy now?"

He smirked, attempting to stifle the laughter. The green bulges rumbled. Then Carter lifted the remaining boulder-sized hand and slapped the green muscled leg. His body-correction, costume-rocked as he belted out a laugh equal to the size of the costume. He started to clutch his stomach, but the movement overbalanced him. He stepped back. "You look hilarious. Your face is green. Your chest is green. That petticoat thing under your dress is splayed out like a halo. And there's-"

"I get the gist. Shut up." She rose to a sitting position then pushed forward until she could get her feet under her. "Stupid idea."

The crowd around them roared and ... oh my G.o.d, took pictures.

"Everyone here has pictures of my underwear and b.u.t.t. Thanks. You're enjoying this waaay too much."

There were tears in his eyes when he pulled off the green glove and rubbed them. "I'm sorry, Abs. Really. Okay, maybe not. Here, let me help you." He grabbed a piece of fabric from the shelf and started wiping her face and neck. "Wait, I can't move in this thing. Hold on."

Carter stepped back, unzipped the side, and let the green bulk drop to his waist. Dammit. Just like that, heat surged through Abby. He stood naked from head to navel in front of her. Albeit, he had a stupid-looking green Hulk-like costume around his hips. But above it-above it was real muscle, real skin, and d.a.m.ned if it didn't make her want him. Even with green makeup smeared all over his neck and face. How pathetic.

Abby took a piece of the fabric and started wiping him as well. He locked on her eyes as he cleared gra.s.s, makeup, and dirt from her forehead.

Her heart pounded like thunder as he rubbed the green from her chest, dragging the cloth against her skin as she gulped in air. He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across hers. His index finger clutched into the bodice of her dress and he stroked it against the skin underneath. Carter attempted to step back. A burst of need went straight through Abby and she reached a hand up and pulled him in before he stepped too far. "Don't." She met his mouth and opened to kiss him hard.

"Don't?" He spoke against her mouth.

"Yeah, don't go." She kept his mouth to hers, stroking tongue against tongue. Screams, whistles, and applause brought her back solidly to the present. Wolf-whistles.

Carter wrapped an arm around her and waved. "Okay. Show's over, folks. Go buy some quilts or something."

Abby was thankful her face was buried in his shoulder where the crowd couldn't see. Maybe they wouldn't recognize her once she'd put her clothes back on.

"About that picture ... "

He snickered. "Let's just skip it, okay? Get dressed, Abs. Just curious-weren't there some sort of knickers or undergarment to go under that outfit?"

"I didn't think I'd need them. Can we get out of here? I sure hope your mom doesn't know any of these people."

"Don't worry. I doubt she'll want to claim us after that. To answer the question-she's lived here most of her life so, yes, she knows them. Just about all of them. And they know me too. I doubt I'll live down the big green suit any time soon. Nor the makeup."

Abby sighed and rushed into the makes.h.i.+ft dressing room. "Great."

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

He probably should have given the Scarlet Letter costume a little more thought. That was a bad decision. He clenched his fist, the warmth of her skin and the silk of the panties fresh on his fingers. He grinned. Okay, maybe it was only half-bad. The green hulk costume was hot, itchy, and stupid, and he'd allowed her to talk him into it to soothe his spitefulness. That part was more than half-bad.

The booth owner had yelled at them initially, until the crowd gathered and she saw the potential for business. When they finally removed the green makeup and returned to street clothes, she offered them a coupon to visit her store in town. Carter excused his way past the line of people looking for costumes or waiting for pictures, to find Abby. It hadn't escaped him that all of them shot several glances his way as he searched for her hair, face, and normal clothes among the gawkers.

It wouldn't surprise him if she'd ditched him. It had been ugly to suggest the dress. He deserved it. Pure childish jealousy as green as the dumb costume she put him in. He frowned. He had no idea why the green monster had settled in. That wasn't a normal feeling. So what if she was already involved when he'd met her? That happened all the time, and he had to admit he'd sampled the market himself more than a few times. She hadn't seemed the type, though, which had been a plus. But she hadn't just been with anyone. Jackson. She'd had a one-night stand with Carter as well. She perfected the C in casual, even more so than most of the guys he knew. Yeah, she'd probably bolted. He shrugged as if to dismiss her.

Only she hadn't.

Abby stood in front of a booth, her back to him. Handmade bags, skirts, and tops hung before her, a myriad of colorful creations by one very creative seamstress.

"Carter!"

He turned to his mother's call.

"We have to go." By the way she rushed toward him, her health must have mended quite some time ago. Why had she lied about it? He started to ask then hesitated. No, not here. Not in front of the entire town. They'd already caused enough excitement for one day.

"You don't have to tell me twice. Okay, I'm ready." Carter turned to Abby. "What about you?"

His mom thrust a hand out. "No. Not you! Us." She gestured between herself and Doctor Bernard. "Gavin was called to the clinic. Some sort of emergency."

Good. Carter was ready to leave anyway. Actually, he'd been ready for a couple hours. He shrugged. "That's fine. I don't mind."

Becky waggled her head and s.h.i.+fted a glance at Gavin, who cleared his throat and spoke. "You stay. I, um, have a ride already. Here are my keys. Just leave them at Becky's. We'll pick it up later."

Carter lifted a brow. "Mom? You don't want us to take you back? It may be a while."

"Oh, for crying out loud, just take the d.a.m.n car, okay? I'm going to visit one of the girls from church. She had surgery a couple days ago and is still recovering. Besides, the two of you need to talk. Preferably not in front of the entire town in green paint while airing your underwear. Capisce?"