Lost and Found (books 1-3): Small-Town Romantic Comedy

by Elizabeth Lynx

  Maybe taking care of animals was another skill of mine that lay in wait for the time when I would learn how to wield it. Like a superhero, just with sheep.

  "It takes time to learn how to be a farmer. I may not have been born here, but I spent most of my youth here, learning from my father." I noticed he gobbled up the bacon and tried to speak between mouthfuls. Clearly, Carter enjoyed my meat candy.

  "You weren't born here? I thought you lived here all your life? Where are you originally from?"

  I took a sip of the addictive coffee, letting the warmth of the liquid glide down my throat as I eased back in the chair.

  "More to the south," he mumbled and immediately lifted the mug to his lips.

  "Where to the south? Somewhere in New England?"

  His jaw tensed as he lowered his cup. "It's not important. My goodness, you ask a lot of questions."

  "I'm curious. Like a cat."

  "More like a hyena," Carter mumbled.

  I ignored his negative connotation and his attempt for me not to know anything about the man. This was the eleventh day since I ran from my wedding. I had lived with Carter, knew his quirks and temperament almost better than I knew Derrick. Yet, I understood nothing about his past.

  "I don't even know your last name."

  Carter grumbled, eating another piece of bacon.

  "Come on. You know my last name . . . Love. How can I write you a thank-you note when I get back home if I don't even know who to address the envelope to?"

  He took a moment and glanced at every spot in the kitchen before finally lifting his gaze to me. "It's Fitzwilliam. Carter Fitzwilliam."

  I frowned. I knew a few Fitzwilliams through my father. They were a political family in DC, but I doubt Carter was related to them. I couldn't see the Fitzwilliams having sheep farmers in the family. Must be a common name like Smith and Jones.

  "See. Now was that so hard?"

  "Yes."

  He tried his best Mr. Grumpington impression, but I noticed before he could hide it with his cup of coffee, the corners of his mouth curved.

  "Whatever you say, Mr. Fitzwilliam."

  His eyes widened and pain stole Carter's amusement in a flash.

  "D-Did I say something wrong?"

  Was he teased as a child about his last name? I couldn’t imagine the name Fitzwilliam producing taunts, but you never knew what kids found amusing.

  "No. It's just, uh . . . my dad was Mr. Fitzwilliam. I was always Carter. It reminded me of him. That's all."

  "Oh. Did something happen to your father?"

  He had mentioned his dad many times since I'd been here, so I knew his father had a powerful impact on Carter. I had no idea if his father was dead or just elsewhere.

  "He died two years ago."

  "I'm sorry. I bet you two were close. And from what you've told me about him, he taught you well."

  There were several minutes of silence while Carter was lost in thought.

  I got up to clear the plates so I could go into the bedroom and give him some alone time. If there was one thing I'd learned from him, it was that the man loved to be by himself. He needed that time now.

  When he spoke, it surprised me.

  "If you want to be a farmer, Olivia, then I can write down some tips for you before you leave."

  I wanted to hug him. Run over and wrap my arms around his big burly chest, but he wasn't a hugger. The man didn't seem to enjoy touch all that much.

  This mountain man was a strange one.

  "That would be nice. Thank you."

  Carter stood abruptly, causing the chair to fall back. Kitty, who had been waiting patiently in her bed for bacon, yelped. I threw two extra crispy pieces of bacon at her, which quieted her instantly.

  "I think I can take you home today. It was warmer yesterday and it has been several days since the storm, the roads should be clear enough to take you back. I'll go install the spark plugs to see if that does the trick."

  He took off to throw on his coat and boots before leaving through the front door. He knew I wanted to watch how he fixed the truck but was trying to race out of here so I wouldn't have time to follow. What he didn't know was that I had already washed my face with his amazing country soap that did wonders for my skin. When I got back to DC, I was so telling all my friends to come here to buy coffee and soap.

  I scurried to the door and leaned over to pull on my boots. That gave Kitty the perfect opportunity to commence face licking. Once I was done, had wiped off my face, and shoved on my coat, I was out the door.

  "You thought you could get away, but you can't outsmart Olivia the cat!" I joked as I trekked over to him.

  "This is something that doesn't require your help. Wait inside where it's warm. Or better yet, get your things ready so we can take off once I've fixed the truck." Carter shifted his body, blocking my view of what he was doing under the hood.

  "Not so fast, Mr. Grumpington . . . uh, I mean, Fitzwilliam."

  Carter turned and cocked his head at me. "Grumpington?"

  "You heard that? Darn. I meant it in an affectionate way. Like, look at you, Mr. Grumpington, you're so adorable when you get mad."

  "Adorable? You think I'm adorable."

  No. Not at all. Sexy, yes. Adorable, no.

  "Yes! Like a puppy. A cute little puppy working hard on his chew toy." I reached up and pinched his cheek.

  I was fully aware that my excuses were only making things worse, but I couldn't help myself. The man caused my brain to malfunction. I tried not to talk so much around him because of that, but when there was silence my eyes did the talking for me. And they couldn't be trusted to keep things dignified.

  "This puppy needs to concentrate. If you must watch, don't interrupt me and stand over there." He pointed to the other side of where he was working.

  I did as I was told and looked on with great interest. It took some time for him to undo parts and put other parts in place. I nibbled on my lips to stop myself from asking what he was doing. It was hard, but I've upset him enough while I had been here. I've disrupted his hermit life long enough.

  I was surprised when he handed me the keys and told me to start up the truck. He showed me when we first tried to get the engine going how to start it. I had only started a car a few times in my life—one of them being for my driving test when I was sixteen.

  My parents spent a lot of money to get an instructor to teach me how to drive the easiest car they could find. It took a few months and two failed attempts at passing the driver's test before I got my license. And I haven't driven since.

  Now I felt like a natural putting my foot on the brake and turning the key. Perhaps driving might be on my list of hidden talents.

  My hands shook when I heard and felt nothing coming from the vehicle. What if this didn't work? How much longer would I be stuck here? I ran from my wedding, but that didn't mean I never wanted to see my family again. I missed Bea.

  I sent prayers to every god that existed in every religion both past and present. I wasn't choosy.

  The sweet sound of an engine rumbling to life after that dreadful second of nothing had me believing in the power of prayer and spark plugs.

  Carter hollered, and I glanced over to witness his happy dance. I don't think he realized I could see him. At least, until he looked up to discover me staring at him with a goofy grin on my face.

  "Nice moves, Fitzwilliam."

  As if someone flipped a switch, Carter stiffened, and Mr. Grumpington took over his body once again. "Go get your stuff. Your stay is officially over."

  I totally agreed. While I couldn't say Carter was a gracious host, he fed me, clothed me, and showed me how to bathe so I did appreciate all he had done. But I was beyond ready to go home.

  The mental list of things I would do once I got back to DC had changed. It started a week ago with taking a hot shower in my multi-spray shower, eating Sarah's fabulous horseradish crab cakes until I was stuffed, and spending the entire day at the Hot Lava Spa on Twentieth Stree
t. But the more time I spent here, I added things I'd never done before this week to the list, like learn more about sheep, take a cooking class, and the latest, learn auto maintenance.

  Perhaps I was a little too eager as I made my way into the cabin because when I slammed the door behind me, the roof caved in. There was snow and leaves everywhere, especially up in the loft.

  When Carter pushed open the door with wide eyes, I held up my hands.

  "I'm sorry."

  EIGHT

  Carter

  "I can pay for that," Olivia said as she winced and looked at the hole in the roof.

  My heart was still beating wildly in my chest. I had heard a crack in the tree that was next to the house just before Olivia went inside. I tried to call out to her, but it was too late. Once she stepped inside, a large branch fell over due to the heavy weight of the snow and landed on the roof.

  The same fear I felt when I found my father unconscious in the barn two years ago came racing back as I ran toward the house. Did anything fall on Olivia? Was she hurt or worse, dead?

  When I opened the door and found her standing there with the same expression Kitty had when she discovered the beef jerky I bought, the fear drained from my veins and I felt nothing but relief.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I ran up to her and held her in my arms.

  "Uh, Carter, I don't want to ruin the moment, but you're hugging me for putting a hole in your roof. Did the car fumes get to you?"

  I tightened my grip as laughter rumbled from my throat. "It's a truck."

  "Of course, truck." Her arms slipped around my waist and she sighed. "If I had known that damaging your home made you give hugs freely, I would have set fire to the place a long time ago."

  I'd let her think this was her fault for another minute as I was enjoying the embrace more than I should. Even though Olivia smelled like bacon, the farther I nudged my nose toward her neck, the more hints of her sweet scent I found.

  No protests escaped her lips as I buried my head into her neck. The only sounds that came from Olivia were her increasing heartbeat and a soft moan.

  "You smell nice."

  I didn't know whether to punch myself in the face or nudge my nose closer. I did the latter. Once I realized there was no way for me to inhale any more of Olivia without the appearance of being demented, I brushed my lips over the tender line of her neck.

  Her skin felt softer than I imagined, and I had thought about it more often than I care to admit this past week. When she tilted her head back to allow easier access, I knew there was no going back.

  Her actions and all her talk since she'd arrived had me contemplating insanity more than once. But instead of it making me want nothing to do with her, I felt compelled to learn more. I was the one asking the questions. I told myself it was to get her to stop asking about me—and that was partly true—but most of it was my brain's inability to stop thinking about Olivia.

  She was the first person I thought about when I woke in the mornings. Maybe she was stuck in my head because I was living with her. When she leaves, the memory will fade and my life will get back to normal.

  I groaned at the thought. A week ago I wanted nothing to do with Olivia but now, the idea of never seeing her again didn't bring a smile to my face.

  Her breasts, the ones that had me taking my hand to my swollen dick all week, flattened against my chest. It didn't matter that I could only feel thick material with my coat on and hers was only partially unzipped. Just the knowledge that she threw her head back and pushed her body to mine was enough to make me want to rip my clothes off.

  But I didn't do that.

  I lifted my lips to her ear. "I should stop."

  "You really shouldn't."

  My hands settled on her hips, preparing to push her back when she grabbed my wrist. Her movement was quick, and I had no time to react as she pushed my hand inside her coat and onto her breast. Instead of pulling my arm back, my fingers firmed and were far too eager with her direction.

  Her nipples were so hard they were ready to slice through the flannel shirt she had on. It had been a long time since I felt another woman like this. And her tiny cries of pleasure as I rubbed back against her were addictive.

  That's what Olivia was, a bad drug. Something tempting and achingly sweet, but if left with me long-term would do unthinkable damage.

  "That's right, Carter. You feel so fucking good."

  My head popped up. I lifted my hand from where it had slipped to grab her backside and cup her chin. "No foul language."

  It's as if I hadn't spoken. She unzipped my coat and slipped her fingers under my shirt. My eyes rolled back into my head when she playfully teased my nipples.

  "Maybe you should punish me."

  A bird chirped in the distance and I glanced up. Bright rays of sun filtered through the roof.

  What was I doing? I had a large hole in the roof of my home, my truck was running outside, and an unwelcomed guest was in my arms who I had promised to take home.

  I stepped back. Olivia's eyes were practically pools of black, her cheeks flushed, and her hair looked more tumbled than when I found her eating beans on my floor almost two weeks ago. In other words, she looked incredibly luscious.

  "What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly.

  I waved my hand up in the air. "The roof. I need to put something over the top so animals don't get inside. Then, I have to take you back to The Lodge."

  There was hurt in her eyes, but I didn't stick around to find out why. She's the one who's been complaining since she got here that she missed her family and all her little luxuries.

  I made my way to the barn as I pushed thoughts of her skin out of my head. After grabbing a tarp that my dad and I used when the roof of the barn needed patching, some nails, a hammer, and the ladder, I made my way to the side of the house.

  Olivia was already there, waiting.

  "Do me a favor, shut off the truck before the truck runs out of gas."

  She nodded and my heart sank. As many times as I rolled my eyes at her cheerful salute when I told her to do something, I was disappointed when she didn't do it this time.

  I was already on the roof by the time she returned. I managed to push the branch off the roof and discovered the hole was smaller than it originally appeared. Most of the shingles were still usable, if only temporary until I could get a roofer to fix it.

  "Do you want me to come up and help?"

  "No, this area is too weak to support the both of us. I probably shouldn't be up here either, but I'm only doing a quick patch. Just wait inside."

  Something I had said set her off. While I had been with several women intimately, I had never had any long-term or even short-term relationships. My father had warned me that women could become irrational for no reason, and now I finally understood what he meant.

  "I know you want to get rid of me, but I'm not completely useless."

  I stopped my hammering and glanced down to her. "I never said you were."

  She was rubbing her face. "Men are such jerks."

  "What? I have housed you for almost two weeks and now I'm a jerk?"

  "Yes! Am I that hideous? Is there something in my personality that makes men think they can use me and then laugh behind my back?"

  "I never laughed—"

  Apparently, she wasn't done talking. "You never once asked why I showed up at your home in a wedding dress."

  I nodded but quickly realized she might not be able to tell from down there. "Because it's none of my business."

  "Just like anything about you is none of my business."

  I sighed and set the hammer down. This was going to be one of her long talks, wasn't it?

  "If you want my honest answer, yes. I don't owe you anything, Olivia. Not my name, though I decided you were trustworthy enough for that. Not my past and certainly not any more of my time."

  She nodded for longer than felt normal and started to walk around in a circle. "Okay. Okay . . . I see your point.
But not everyone is you, Carter. We aren't all anti-social hermits who bare our teeth at love and affection. A lot of people like to socialize and get to know others. It helps. Without it, humans would go mad. Maybe that's your problem, Carter . . . you're mad as a mother-fucking shit-eating hatter!"

  I rubbed my face and did my best to calm down. "I'm the mad one? I'm not the one calling people names and using ugly language. I'm also not the one picking a fight for no reason. Let me fix the roof, and then you can curse me to your heart's content while I drive you back to The Lodge." I turned back to the roof and picked up the hammer.

  "I ran away from my wedding. I caught my fiancé getting dirty with one of the guests. And the way he was talking, this wasn't their first encounter, either. The funny thing was, during my hours of trekking through the snow to get here, I realized I wasn't upset that he had cheated on me. I barely knew the guy. We were rarely alone together and when we were, he acted like he was doing me a favor. And you know the worst part? I believed him."

  She was quiet for a moment and when I glanced down; she was crying. Even from up here, I knew what that looked like.

  "What is it about me that makes men not want to be with me? You'll be rid of me soon. Just be honest."

  I was a jerk.

  Placing the hammer back on the tiles, I leaned against the roof but miscalculated where the beam was located and fell straight through. I felt something crack in my left arm when I landed. I rolled onto my back on the snow-covered loft floor and stared at the sky. Electric bolts of pain shot up my arm.

  This was my punishment for being a fool.

  NINE

  Olivia

  "You are the best. Thank you," I said, leaning over to give him a hug.

  The smell of pine mixed with bleach filled the air as I pulled away.

  "Oh, well, you're welcome. Anytime for a charming lady in need." His smile dazzled in the florescent light.

  "If you don't mind me saying, you're a handsome man. You must be the popular doctor around here." I bit my lip as my gaze drifted down his body. The scrubs he wore fit a little too perfectly.

  "Not really." Dr. Ferguson winked his blue eyes.