Forever Hunted

by Kathleen Brooks

  * * *

  Carter pulled his pickup truck to a stop in front of the security building on Desert Sun Farm. The building looked like one of the horse barns, but it was made with thick walls and steel doors. There were conference rooms, a kitchen, and a state-of-the-art security center on the first floor to protect the family who owned the farm. Mo and Dani weren’t just the best friends of Carter’s parents. They were also royalty of a small Persian Gulf island nation called Rahmi.

  Carter was buzzed into the security center and headed downstairs into the basement. There was a long hallway lined with secure holding rooms in case they needed to detain someone. At the end of the hall were the gym and showers. Carter could already hear the rock music blaring and the sounds of pads being hit and weights dropping to the rubber floor.

  The first person he saw was his brother-in-law’s father, Cole Parker. Cole had been FBI before he retired. Ryan had taken over the Lexington office. Speaking of which, “Hey, Cole, have you seen Ryan?”

  Cole looked over at Carter from his place on the treadmill with surprise. “Carter, never seen you here before. Ryan’s on a case. He’ll be back tomorrow or so. Is everything okay?”

  “I need some information on racketeering.” If Ryan couldn’t answer them, Cole definitely could.

  “You can talk later,” Cy called out from the boxing ring. “You’re here to work, not chitchat.”

  Cole raised a black eyebrow over his silver gray eyes with surprise. “You’re going to work out with Cy? That’s not exactly your speed, is it?”

  Carter felt his jaw tighten. “Why isn’t it?”

  “Well, you’re the . . . it’s just that—” Cole began to say as he tried to figure out a way to voice his thought.

  “You’re more of the nice guy than the punch-someone guy,” Marshall Davies, one of Cy’s older brothers, called from where he was pulling off his boxing gloves.

  Carter ground his teeth together as he pulled himself into the boxing ring and grabbed the gloves from Marshall. “And because I’m a nice guy, I can’t throw a punch? Is that it? Is that what you all think?”

  “It’s not a bad thing,” Cole said, trying to placate him.

  “Yeah,” Marshall shrugged. “Pierce never works out with us. He’s a nice guy too, and we love him. Even if Tammy will kill him before he can see his fifth child born.” Pierce was the youngest of the Davies crew. Miles was the oldest, then Marshall, Cade, Cy, Paige, and finally Pierce. Pierce and his little sprite of a wife, Tammy, had thought she was done having babies until a surprise pregnancy left them about to welcome another child instead of the grandchild Tammy had wanted.

  “In fact, you’re just the kind of guy I would want Greer to marry,” Cole said happily as if he were helping. “Well, when she’s older. At twenty-three, it’s a little soon to be talking about marriage. Thirty-eight sounds like a better age.”

  Cy made a sound of agreement through his mouth guard before spitting it into his hand. “You have to earn your way to be with my daughter. You said you want to marry her, well, let’s see if you have the balls to even ask my permission. Matt did,” he challenged.

  “Whoa,” Marshall said as he stopped walking out of the gym. Cole stopped the treadmill and joined Marshall as they leaned against the raised floor of the boxing ring. “Did you say marriage?”

  Cy made a sound of disgust. “The boy here says that’s the plan, but from where I’m standing it looks like he hasn’t gotten the courage to ask me for permission or even ask my daughter yet.”

  Carter flexed his fingers inside the boxing gloves. “Because she needs to resolve her daddy issues first.”

  “Daddy issues?” Cy huffed.

  “Yeah, as in her dad’s complete inability to let his daughters lead their own lives. You’ve heard of helicopter parents? Well, you’re a drone parent. You hover even closer than a helicopter and drop bombs on their happiness.”

  Cy growled, Marshall laughed, Cole sucked in a breath, and Carter slammed his fist into Cy’s snarling face. It felt great. Cy’s head didn’t snap back as far as Carter wanted, but the surprised look was worth it. But then, Cy unleashed a flurry of punches that had Carter backing up and dodging for all he was worth. He blocked, ducked, and dodged, but still took a couple of hits. It felt great. Carter jumped back and put his hands up to guard his face as he smiled. This was fun. He felt the muscles he used on the farm contracting and flexing as he tried his own combination of punches. One thing went to his advantage, he was quicker than Cy.

  “What’s the problem, old man? Having trouble keeping up?” Carter taunted and easily bounced on the balls of his feet, ducking another punch.

  “Damn,” Marshall cursed to Cole. “I don’t know whether to put twenty dollars on a wedding or a funeral.”

  “I’m hedging my bets and putting twenty on each,” Cole told him as Carter blocked a right cross.

  Cy was breathing hard, and Carter was still grinning. He had sweat pouring off him, but he felt alive. “I’m going to ask Reagan to marry me. But first you are going to fix this thing between you two,” Carter said before trying a right cross, left jab combination.

  “I’ll do no such thing,” Cy growled, punching Carter hard to the stomach.

  “You will.” Carter said as he dragged in a deep breath and hopped out of the way of another punch. “And you’ll like it. You’ll happily walk her down the aisle, cry a little tear when she announces she’s pregnant with your grandchild, and you won’t tackle me to the ground like you do Matt because you realize we have sex.”

  “Screw it, I’m placing fifty on a funeral,” Marshall muttered as he tapped his bet in the mobile betting book app the Blossom Café had set up. The Rose sisters had long ago begun taking bets based on gossip. Miss Daisy had it all written down on a waitress’s pad, but when they retired, and their much younger cousins several generations removed took over, they updated the betting books to a mobile app. At the end of the year, all of the proceeds went to local charities.

  “You’re having sex with my daughter?” Cy’s voice rumbled as his whole body tensed.

  “Grow up,” Carter said with a roll of his eyes. That was the mistake. He took his eyes off Cy for one second. The punch came fast and hard. The next thing Carter knew, he was on his back looking up at a very angry Cy.

  “You won’t touch my daughter again.”

  “I will. I love her, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her. I’ll be a good husband, a good father, and Reagan will know she’s loved every day,” Carter said in between heavy breaths as he stared up at Cy. “And you’re going to give me permission to ask Reagan to marry me.”

  “And I thought he was the nice one. He’s kind of a badass,” Cole whispered to Marshall.

  Cy used his mouth to rip off the boxing glove before taking the other one off. He paced the ring as Carter stood up. His head swam for a moment, but then everything came back into focus. “I don’t like it,” Cy grumbled. “But dammit, I can’t help but respect you. You’re a good kid, Carter. And when given the chance, you can hold your own. But we’ll need to work on your jab.”

  Cy stopped pacing and stalked toward Carter. Carter held his breath wondering what was going to happen next, but Cy just grabbed Carter’s glove and pulled off first one and then the other. Cy took a deep breath and held out his hand. Carter looked down at it confused. Was he going to hit him again?

  “You have my permission to ask Reagan to marry you,” Cy said softly. Carter looked down at the hand and slowly reached out and shook it. He’d done it. He’d stood up to Cy Davies and gotten permission to marry Reagan.

  Carter smiled at his future father-in-law as he dropped his hand. “Can I call you Dad?”

  Marshall and Cole choked and Cy snarled.

  “Don’t push it. You better be the nice guy we believe you are. If you hurt my baby girl, I will slowly tear you apart regardless of your parents being good friends of mine. You got it, sonny?”

  “Sure thing, Dad.” Carter
smirked before bouncing out of the ring.

  “He’s always been so quiet and polite. I like this side of him.” Marshall laughed as Carter ran from the room. He had a proposal to plan.

  12

  Reagan drove past her house and headed straight for Ashton Farm. She and Carter hadn’t discussed her spending the night again, but now that their relationship was out in the open there was no reason to avoid it. Especially when they needed to talk.

  The drive from the airport to Keeneston was around twenty-five minutes of beautiful rolling hills and farmland. Black fences ran the length of the country road, keeping horses, cattle, and crops within their confines. Reagan had rolled down her windows, blared music, and gotten lost in thought. Those thoughts had taken her on a trip to the past. The first time she’d looked at Carter as something other than a friend. That night was at Zain and Mila’s wedding when he’d asked her dance.

  When something exciting happened, she called Carter immediately. When she had a bad day, it was Carter she turned to for comfort. When she had a spare minute, it was Carter she wanted to spend it with. It was Carter she wanted to laugh with, to cry with, and to make love with. It was all about Carter, and only Carter. And it had been that way since he’d flown with her sixteen months before. It was so simple. She knew what she wanted. She wanted Carter Ashton.

  * * *

  Reagan pulled to a stop outside the farmhouse. The waiting, the worry, and the stress she’d put on herself and Carter was gone. She bounded inside the house and headed straight for the shower. Reagan reached into the stone-tiled shower and turned on one of the two showerheads. Her heart sang and her body danced as she plugged in her phone to charge and hooked it up to the Bluetooth speakers. She loved Carter and he loved her. Sometimes life really was that simple. The dancing, the affection, the partnership . . . she could have it all. Her own love story was in reach, she just had to take it. And she planned to. She was going to tell Carter how much she loved him, and no matter how annoying her father was, she wanted Carter in her life and heart forever.

  Reagan reached down and pulled off the Keeneston Air polo shirt and jeans she’d been wearing as she danced to the music. She reached behind her and shook her shoulders to unclasp her bra when her hands grabbed another pair of hands instead of her bra. She gasped and spun around ready to take someone down when she found a smiling and sweaty Carter standing there.

  “I was just helping.” He winked as he placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around so that her back leaned against his chest. In seconds, her bra was on the floor along with her panties. Reagan looked down at the two tanned hands cupping her breasts and leaned back with pleasure. Carter had her back in more ways than one.

  “I love you, Rea,” Carter whispered in her ear as his lips trailed a blazing path down her neck while his fingers worked magic on her body. “So much so that I think I’ll join you tomorrow. It’ll be just like when we first started dating.”

  “Oh, Carter. I’ve been so stupid,” Reagan told him. She couldn’t take her eyes off his hands on her breasts. The way his fingers moved slowly around her nipples, the way his hands were rough and tan while her breasts were smooth and fair. They complemented each other in so many ways. He was calm and patient to offset her red-headed temper. She pushed him outside of his comfort zone to try new things. They weren’t opposites, they just filled in each other’s missing pieces to be whole.

  “I love you too, Carter. I’m upset about what happened, but not because of my feelings for you. I’m upset because I should have been stronger sooner. I should have stood up to my father instead of hiding from him. If I have you, I know we’ll be just fine no matter what the world throws at us.”

  Carter’s hands stilled and he wrapped them around her and pulled her tightly against his chest. Reagan felt his lips press against the top of her head as he stood silently, holding her to him for a moment. “I’m not upset. I’m glad I had this time to know you the way I have. I’ll never regret anything with you, Reagan.”

  Carter released her and stepped back to pull off his shirt. He smirked at her and slapped her bottom as he headed for the shower. “Wanna join me? I have an errand before we meet at the Blossom Café, so I don’t have much time.”

  Reagan followed him into the bathroom and watched him step into the shower. Through the glass door, she watched the water run over his trimmed hair, over his square jaw, across broad shoulders to form a little stream of water that went from the center of his chest down over the ridges of his abs and then . . . well, what the hell was she doing standing out here?

  * * *

  “You need a dog,” Reagan’s cousin Sydney told her as Reagan took a seat at a table occupied by her girlfriends at the Blossom Café. When she’d arrived at the only restaurant in town, Carter wasn’t back from his errands yet. Not one for carrying a purse, Reagan set her keys down at a table for two and joined the nearby table filled with her cousins and her friend, Aniyah.

  The Blossom Café was full of colors. Pinks, blues, yellows, whites, oranges, and reds—it was an explosion of colorful tablecloths covered with glass tops and mix-matched chairs. It was also gossip central. And the second Reagan walked in, she’d been swarmed with questions on marriage dates, engagement talk, and if she were possibly pregnant. No. No. And no way!

  Sydney ran a fashion house and home decorating empire. She had everything from bathing suits to bedroom furniture with her name on it. But sitting at the table with her cousin, you’d never know she was on the Forbes list. Her long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail. She wore jeans, a Keeneston High Football T-shirt, and no makeup. Next to her was their cousin Piper, who had come directly from her lab in Lexington. She had on scrubs, and the safety glasses she had forgotten were shoved up on her head like a hairband. That was her standard work attire in the lab where she worked with viruses and nanotechnology. She usually changed out of the scrubs to come home. And when she was home, Piper was in the same outfit Reagan wore—jeans, T-shirts, and flip-flops. The table rounded out with Aniyah, who looked like a million bucks compared to the Davies cousins. Aniyah was wearing diamond stud earrings, a beautiful blouse, and a cute fitted skirt that stopped above her knees, allowing her to show off her strappy high-heeled sandals.

  “What do I need a dog for?” Reagan asked. Sydney had a Vizsla named Robyn. Robyn wasn’t a dog. She was a human in a dog’s body.

  “You and Carter have been together for over a year. It’s either a dog or a baby in the eyes of the town. Trust me, the dog is the perfect excuse for delaying said baby everyone is already thinking you should have,” Sydney told her as if everyone knew that.

  “Aniyah doesn’t have a dog,” Reagan pointed out.

  “My sugarbear is allergic. I want to get a blanket made out of poodle hair and sneak it into the house to prove to him we could have a poodle. Can’t you see me with a poodle?”

  No one was surprised. In fact, a poodle was the most natural dog for Aniyah. “Yes,” they all responded.

  “Rumor has it Nikki found a puppy on the side of the road yesterday and is looking for a home for it,” Piper said before taking a sip of her sweet tea.

  “Nikki? As in the queen bitch of the Keeneston Belles? She didn’t sacrifice it to the husband-hunting gods?” Reagan asked with disbelief. The Keeneston Belles was a group of all of the most popular women from high school who joined after graduating. It started as a charitable organization but was really a husband-hunters club. Nikki Canter was their president. She’d been fending off a coup by Addison Rooney for the past six months or so, and it was starting to affect Nikki in unseen ways—like stopping to rescue a puppy. Even so, no one wanted to deal with Nikki if they didn’t have to. She was over-injected, over-fluffed, overinflated, and overboard in every way imaginable.

  “Yup. Nora from the Fluff and Buff told me when she called to confirm my haircut appointment,” Piper said.

  “Robyn would love to have a cousin to play with,” Sydney said of her dog. “And I bet B
ridget could train it as well as Robyn, especially when you’re away and Carter’s at the race track for the day.”

  “And Robyn really likes it at Bridget’s?” Reagan asked, liking the idea more and more. She’d always wanted to get a dog, but with her schedule she thought it would be unfair to the dog.

  “She loves it. Bridget is the best with dogs,” Sydney said of their parents’ friend. Bridget Mueez was married to Ahmed, the former head of security for the Ali Rahman royal family living in Keeneston. Ahmed retired and went into the horse business with Mo. His wife, on the other hand, started a military and police dog training facility that was soon to be merged with a military and police training center her father and some other family members were starting. “She’s taught Robyn search-and-rescue as well as several of the police commands. The other day, Robyn pinned some poor teenager to the brick wall outside the bank after smelling a joint on him.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Poppy asked as she came to the table to take Reagan’s drink order. “Bridget broke her ankle today.”

  “What happened?” Sydney asked with surprise. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s madder than an old wet hen,” Poppy told them. “Luckily, she has staff in place to continue with all the training. She’ll be limited in her mobility for a while. Dr. Emma was in here after her shift at the ER, and she said Bridget was already back at work ordering everyone around from a chair she had them place outside for her. Apparently she was trying to teach a dog to scale an eight-foot wall and was sitting on top of it. When she dropped to the ground, she landed wrong and broke her ankle.”

  “Poor Bridget,” Sydney sighed.

  “Poor Ahmed. He’s going to have a hard time keeping her from running around,” Aniyah said with a shake of her head. And it was true. “But the real gossip is you and Carter. You’re all flushed and glowing. I know that look well. Why do you think I always look so good?”