“Not like this, they don’t,” she said.
He sighed. People tried to hide things all the time but in this particular slice of history, it was next to impossible. The virtual world was a great leveller that way. He wondered idly what things the high-and-mighty Nate Jackson might be hiding.
“I can’t believe every person in the Jackson family is a lily-white example of decorum.”
“Nothing like this.” Carrie waved her hand. “Jess is always in some kind of trouble or other. But everyone expects it of her. I’m the one who’s supposed to know better.”
“Wow. You really do have the weight of the world on your skinny little shoulders, don’t you?”
She cast him a dark look. “Maybe I’m overstating it a little, but this is my crisis. Let me enjoy it before I freak out entirely.” She paced the small room, frustration rolling off her in waves. “I never wanted to embarrass them. I knew what would happen if anyone ever found out.”
He caught her arm so she’d stop and look at him.
“Nobody’s perfect, Carrie. Not even you.”
She sniffed. “Believe me, I’m aware.”
Something about the way she said it made him think she wasn’t just talking about her secret photos.
“I don’t think you are.”
She grew still at that and he wondered if he’d hit a nerve. Maybe she’d been told so often she was a good girl that she’d accepted it as her role in life, bearing the responsibility for the family’s good name, regardless of the behavior of the rest of the members.
Perhaps, though this might be reading too much into it, she’d subconsciously sabotaged herself as a way to get free of this burden.
He’d seen her work. He’d seen into pretty much every area of her life. She was as honest as they came, as trusting and trustworthy as anyone he’d ever met. Her boudoir photos were tasteful and respectful and he could see that the women she’d photographed were indeed empowered by the experience.
If her family couldn’t see this about her, then to hell with them. If this town was willing to blacklist her without knowing the truth, they didn’t deserve her.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said.
She looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Don’t lie to me, Ethan.”
“I’m not.”
“Do you have a family?”
He hesitated.
“Then you don’t know,” she went on. “Well, this is my home we’re talking about. My family. My business. This is how I make my living and these are people I care about. And they’re ashamed of me! Maybe that doesn’t mean anything to someone like you-”
He pulled her closer and before he could think about it, pressed his lips to hers. He was desperate to silence her, desperate to show her that he was in fact on her side, that he understood more than she knew, that he cared, that he wanted to help…
But then her hand snaked up around his neck and she threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him against her mouth. She pressed her body against his and swept her tongue against his.
His knees nearly buckled. She tasted sweet and clean and wholesome and fresh and every thought evaporated from his mind, washed out by the electricity flowing between them. This was the Carrie of the blue vase, the Carrie of power and pleasure and honesty and truth and…
He groaned as thought returned. He turned his head to stop the kiss but she clung to him.
He had to stop this before it went any further. What had she just said? She was devastated by the slam to her reputation. This was her home. It was so unfair, what was happening to her. A tempest in a teapot, to be sure, but when you lived in that teapot, well, it had to be rough.
Getting involved with him would only make things worse for her.
“Sorry.” He swallowed, and pressed his forehead against hers. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
She pulled back. “You didn’t do it alone, if you were unsure on that point.”
“Still doesn’t make it a good idea.”
She put her fingers to her lips. “Felt okay to me.”
She was killing him.
“Look, Carrie, you’re upset. You need to get out of here, clear your head, get some fresh air. Let loose. I can help you with that.”