When Carter exits the bathroom after his shower looking too damn good, I hurriedly distract myself before I say or do something stupid. Playing up my hostess role, I tell him to help himself to some food or have a seat in the living room, and I’ll get cleaned up quickly and be right out.
Once in the small bathroom, I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. That stupid little voice inside me still wonders if I’m only a challenge for now. Will he get bored with me after I completely give in? My gut tells me no, but does a fool know when they’re being a fool? My gut also says no. Attempting to hush the voice, I step into the shower and hurry to rinse off. Ten minutes and a hot shower later, I emerge feeling like a new person.
Rounding the corner into the living room, I’m struck by an unexpected sight. Carter is sitting on the sofa, his head leaned back against the cushion, sound asleep. It looks like I’m not the only one who falls asleep easily. We have been at it since 5 a.m., though, and I know I could use a nap too, so it’s hard to blame the guy.
“We’re heading back to the front, Ave,” Tessa yells. “Finn, let’s go! Shake a leg!”
Carter startles at Tessa’s holler and luckily doesn’t catch me staring at him. Thankfully, no camera was around to capture the role reversal. As he sits forward, and I take a closer look at him, all the words I’ve ever known leave my mind as my hand clasps over my mouth.
He did not.
“What is it?” Carter asks, his tone of voice drawing Tessa’s attention. Her eyes widen as she stares in shock at the sight too.
“Finn,” Tessa shouts. “In here. Now!”
“Avery, what’s wrong?” Carter’s concern only grows a smidgen as mine increases by the second.
“Finn, what on earth?” Tessa scolds the innocent-looking but definitely responsible child as she points to Carter, who still looks baffled.
“Aunt Avery told me to do it.”
“No I did not!” I shout as Carter stands, looking between us like we’re all crazy.
“You said buttfaces should come with a warning on their head.” He literally squints and crosses his arms. Full of righteous confidence that he followed my directions to the letter. No remorse, the kid is utterly aloof.
Shit. “I-I-I … I did. I did say that to Rhett,” I raise my eyebrows at Finn. “But I wasn’t serious.”
Finn coolly shrugs. “Oops.”
“Finn! You should know better!” Tessa fusses.
With my hands on my cheeks, I say, “Should he? Should we expect him to be aware of the nuances of sarcasm?”
Carter walks to the mirror over the fireplace and leans closer to read the word buttface written across his forehead in Sharpie.
“In this family? Maybe! Seriously, Avery. Why would you say that?” Tessa asks.
Carter turns to face me, pointing to his forehead. “You told him to do this to me?”
“No, not to you exactly …” I attempt to bite back a laugh but fail when a smile moves across Carter’s lips, and he shakes his head. “On the bright side, his handwriting is getting better. Very legible,” I tease my sister.
“Who else did you do this to?” Tessa asks Finn, not finding any of this the least bit funny.
“Uncle Rhett, but it was on his arm.” I thought that would be an excellent place to end his explanation. But my darling Finn did not agree. “Then Aunt Avery said buttface should’ve been written across his forehead to give anyone who looks at him twice a fair warning.” He shrugs.
“Well, thank you, court reporter, for reading the transcript back to the room. What, do you have a photographic memory I wasn’t aware of? Sheesh.” I give my sister a yikes face, then say, “Things we’ve learned today: his handwriting has improved, he’s a keen listener, and he’s got perfect recall. You’ve got a special kid on your hands, here.”
“Carter, I’m sorry.” Tessa looks to her son. “Apologize, Finn.”
Finn gives Carter a sheepish look. “Sorry, Mr. Carter.”
“It’s no prob, buddy. But next time, it’s Aunt Avery’s turn.”
Tessa shakes her head. “Can y’all please stop giving him ideas?”
“Come on,” I say to Carter. “Rubbing alcohol will take it right off.”
Tessa and Finn walk out of the house as I lead Carter back down the hallway to the bathroom. Instructing him to sit on the vanity chair, I then grab some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. “I really am sorry. I said that a couple weeks ago to my brother—I don’t remember Finn even being in the room.” I dab the cotton against his forehead as I try to avoid gazing directly into his alluring eyes because I can see him looking up at me as I lean over him, acutely aware of how close my chest is to his face.