"I’m fine, Carter, really. I am so much better than fine. I'm great. And we're great." I gave him a stern look in the hopes that he'd snap out of his mini-funk.
"I know, I just feel bad for everything we went through. Everything I put you through. I'm so sorry, Eva." He grabbed both of my hands in his own and looked at me sadly.
"We both did it Carter. My insecurities. Your past, it sort of combined together to make a perfect storm. But we're good now and I love you." I smiled at him.
"Yes, we are good." He dipped his head down, his long hair falling over his eyes, and pressed a kiss to the inside of each of my palms.
"Just promise me we'll always work through anything. You're worth it to me, Eva. I can be such an ass, but please give me a chance to work through it. Don't run," he whispered.
"I won't, Carter. I promise. No running." I brought one of his hands to my lips and placed a kiss on his knuckle. Just then a waitress brought our food and coffee. I dropped Carter's hands instantly and reached for my coffee, sipping the hot liquid and feeling the warmth heat through my body. I looked up at the mountains in the distance and smiled.
"Large soy vanilla latte?" he asked.
"Delicious." A wide smile spread across my face and I was so happy I felt tears prickle at the edge of my eyes.
"You're breathtaking when you smile." Carter's eyes danced with love. I averted my eyes, embarrassed when he said things like that. I grabbed half of a bagel and slathered cream cheese on it before taking a large bite. Apparently my stomach had calmed and I was now voraciously hungry. Carter grinned and then grabbed a muffin and unwrapped it, popping a bite into his mouth with a smile.
Chapter Nine
Carter and I spent the weekend holed up in his house drinking wine and watching movies while a snowstorm blew in off the mountains. The weather was finally acting a little more like the Rocky Mountains in late October, and less like the last vestiges of summer as it had been the past week. I was thankful for the warmer temperatures on the day we were married, but there was something that made my heart swell at being snowed-in in the mountains with Carter.
His house, while large, had the perfect Rocky Mountain getaway feel with river rock accented walls and fireplaces, exposed wooden beams, and wood floors covered in well-worn rugs. The furniture was sturdy and oversized; his entire house was in direct contrast to the modern style of the one on Beacon Street. I loved them both. There was something so clean and satisfying about the sharp lines of Carter's home in Boston, and something so warm and cozy about this one. When I asked him about it he said that his mom had happily designed the place from top to bottom, even adding a large window on a small wall that butted up into the mountain to showcase a trickle of spring water forever running off down the rocky ledge. It felt like the house was a living, breathing part of the landscape.
Sunday afternoon, one week after we'd been married, Carter was fielding some calls from Boston in his office and I wandered into the library on the opposite side of the family room. The room was small and intimate, with a few brown leather chairs situated around a heavy, round wooden table. It looked like a place where gentleman sat to play cards and smoke cigars.
The walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves and each shelf was packed with old books. I wandered and dragged a finger along the spines of the books. I found classics like Chaucer and Shakespeare, modern design books, histories of Colonial America, Colorado, and the American West.
I grabbed a book about the history of Aspen and curled up into one of the chairs and leafed through the pages. The book contained beautiful old pictures of the main street, and some of the buildings were surprisingly recognizable.
"Found the library." Carter traced a hand along my shoulders and touched his warm palm to the back of my neck beneath my hair. I smiled at his touch.
"It's beautiful in here." I twisted around and faced him as he plopped down in the chair next to me.
"My dad loves books. He's a collector."
"How long has your family been coming to Aspen?"
"A long time. We took ski trips out here when I was kid, since Derek and Emma were a few years old. We always rented a place, but when I started making money, one of the first things I did was buy a house out here, sort of a thank you to them for everything they've done for me. I gave Mom full control of design; she loves interior decorating, and the only thing Dad wanted was a library, and he insisted on a round table for poker playing." He ran his hand along the beveled edge. "I’ve played a lot of poker here, and you know..." His eyes glinted at me mischievously. "I’ve always thought it was the perfect height…" His voice trailed off as he stood and lifted me out of the chair, placing me on my bottom on the edge of the table. I quirked an eyebrow up at him and laughed.