by Lucy Score
“Two bedrooms up there,” Joey said pointing to the loft that overlooked the living area. “Powder room is over there. There’s beer in the fridge. I figured we could eat on the back porch.”
“Fine with me,” Summer agreed. “We aren’t going to get ambushed by paparazzi out there, are we?”
“If that happens, I’m getting my shotgun.”
After a pit stop in the kitchen for utensils and beer, Joey led the way out onto the back porch. “We’ll eat in the screened-in porch. I don’t want to share my food with mosquitos.”
She flicked a light switch, and an overhead ceiling fan and light came on.
“This place suits you,” Summer said, taking in the vista. Beyond the deck, a brick patio ran the length of the back of the house and pastures rolled on as far as the eye could see. “You have a bathtub on your patio.”
Joey grinned. “It runs, too.”
“You take baths outside?” Summer asked incredulously.
“Who’s going to see me? The horses?”
Summer imagined it. A warm summer night, a fire in the fire pit, and a good long soak under the stars.
“Okay. You may be onto something here.”
Joey opened her container and dug into her lukewarm roast beef sandwich.
She pointed at Summer’s salad. “No meat on that. Did Carter get to you, too?”
“Maybe a little,” she confessed. “He and Dixie make a pretty compelling case.” She reached for a fork. “When I write pieces like this, I try to live as close to the lifestyle of the subject as possible just to get a better feel for it.”
“Method,” Joey mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“What?”
Joey swallowed. “It’s like method acting, only for writing.”
“Exactly.” Summer speared a cherry tomato. “So, think we gave Anthony enough to write his articles?”
“More than. He’s very ‘creative’ with his facts. In a week, all of Blue Moon will be reading about how you’ve fallen for a farmer and plan to kiss Manhattan goodbye. And how I’m ready to have another Pierce brother’s babies.”
They both drank deeply.
“So how was the sex?” Joey asked as casually as if she was talking about shoes or recipes.
Summer choked on her beer. “Excuse me?”
“Those Pierce brothers know how to treat a woman right.”
“Brothers?” Summer demanded.
Joey smirked. “After Jackson left, Beckett and I may have made out one night.”
“No. Way. Does Jax know?”
“Probably not. And it was nothing,” Joey shrugged. “Beckett was worried about me. I was in a tizzy over his brother leaving. It just happened. And then we came to our senses, decided we were better off as friends, and never spoke of it again.”
“I’ve never made out with two brothers before,” Summer said wistfully.
“It was a lot more than making out with Jackson,” Joey said matter-of-factly. “Even at seventeen, that boy knew what he was doing.”
Summer watched her straighten her shoulders and dig back into her meal.
“Why don’t you call him Jax like everyone else?”
“I used to. I don’t anymore.” Joey kept her attention on her dinner.
“Too familiar?”
“Yeah, something like that. So back to sex with Carter.”
“What’s my scale?”
“One being ‘I should have saved myself the self-loathing by staying home and watching Netflix’ and ten being ‘I heard angels sing.’”
“Oh angels. Definitely. A choir of them.”
“Nice.”
“With some fireworks, too.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
Joey dropped Summer off in front of Carter’s house after nine.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” Summer offered, sliding out of the truck cab.
Joey’s eyes flicked to the house. “Nah. I’m good.”
“I had fun tonight,” Summer said.
“Me, too,” Joey nodded. “I’ll call you if we need to go burn Anthony’s house down or something.”
“I’m in.”
Summer climbed the porch steps and went inside. She followed the sound of male laughter through the kitchen—which looked like it had been destroyed in a tornado of testosterone—and into the great room.
Carter spotted her first and got to his feet.
“Lady in the house, gentlemen,” Beckett said, dealing cards. “Let’s clean up the language and tone down the farting and scratching.”
“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt any manly fun. I’m just going to grab my laptop and work upstairs.”
“First, come meet the guys,” Carter insisted. He pointed to the man with scraggly hair and Birkenstocks. “Summer, this is Bill Fitzsimmons. Fitz, this is Summer Lentz.”
Fitz peered over his glasses at her and waved. “Hello. The brownies are safe.”
“Thanks for tip,” Summer nodded.
“Fitz is the prime example of the evils of excessive pot smoking, but he’s a lucky bastard when it comes to cards. This,” Carter said slapping the shoulder of a large blonde man wearing a backwards ball cap, “is Donovan Cardona. Don’t let the idiotic look on his face fool you. He’s sheriff here and a lousy card player.”
Donovan unfolded his six-foot-four-inch frame from the table and stood up to greet her. “Nice to meet you, Summer. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said with a wink, shaking her hand.
“You must be on Facebook,” she sighed.
“The department’s been able to stop a few crimes before they happened thanks to that gossip group. I can see they weren’t exaggerating how pretty you are.”
Carter took Donovan’s hat off and smacked him with it. “Don’t even start,” he said.
“That’s assaulting an officer,” Donovan said.
“Carter already called dibs,” Jax said, breezing past on his way to the fridge.
“You called dibs?” Summer asked.
“You know, how about you just go on upstairs while I stay down here and kick everyone’s ass?” And since everyone already knew, he gave her a hard kiss on the mouth before handing over her laptop and pushing her down the hall.
She held her laughter until she got to the top of the stairs. “So much for secrets,” she sighed to herself. Summer flipped on the light in her room and was halfway in when she realized none of her things were there. Jax’s tangle of possessions were exploding out of a duffle on the floor.
Curious, she almost called down to Carter, but instead, she followed her hunch into his room. He had hung up all of her clothes in his closet and stowed her suitcase. Her toiletries were neatly lined up on the counter in his bathroom next to the open box of condoms.
She caught her grin in the mirror.
When was the last time she had smiled like this? Or felt this light?
She couldn’t remember.
But he wouldn’t really want you if he knew the truth, would he? The little vile voice in her head whispered its poisonous truth.
Summer turned away from the mirror, from the words that scratched at her.
They weren’t getting married. They were seeing where things went. And it was no reason to let herself get swept up in it. She had work to do, goals to accomplish, a battle to fight.
Carter found her curled in his bed, asleep with her laptop browser open to an article on using an organic, plant-based diet to fight disease. Always working, he smiled, closing the laptop and moving it to the nightstand.
Her phone was still clutched in her hand. He gently pulled it from her grasp and plugged it into the charger.
Carter stripped down and slid into bed beside her. She didn’t even stir when he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.
18
Summer woke in the gray dawn to the sound of rain on the metal roof and a soggy Carter crawling back into bed.
“Is it time to get up?” she mur
mured sleepily.
“No, baby. Go back to sleep.”
Carter pulled her against him, and she snuggled in.
When she woke again, the rain still fell, and thunder rumbled in the distance. She was curled into Carter’s side, a leg thrown across his. Her hand rested just above the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
He slept peacefully, she noted.
His face was a masterpiece. That perfectly straight blade of a nose. Lips that gave so much pleasure pressed in a line. Even in his sleep, he frowned. That serious look that, when turned on her, made her stomach feel like it was on a roller coaster. Inky lashes hid his steel gray eyes. And that beard. Oh, how she loved that beard.
It was her last full day here. She was going to make the most of it. Summer pulled the sheet down his body, taking her time and reveling in the view. He was built with strength and power from his broad shoulders to his scarred chest to the tapering waist and hips. He was perfection, and in this moment, he was hers to explore.
Summer trailed a light line of kisses down his chest, across his taut stomach, and lower still. He was already hard by the time she worked her way down those delicious slashes of muscle that brought her mouth to its destination. She felt him come awake when her lips parted to accept the head of his cock.
It was her name on his lips as his hips came off the bed, forcing him deeper into her mouth.
Summer slanted over him, tasting and licking. She gripped the base of his shaft with her hand and began a slow, torturous rhythm. He groaned and his hips flexed again, driving his cock deeper into her mouth.
The speed built with the need. She wanted to take him over the edge as he did for her again and again.
His fingers dug into her shoulders. “Baby, you have to stop.”
She didn’t listen. Summer wanted him helpless and shuddering.
Carter took matters into his own hands and wrestled her up his body. He flipped them, reaching desperately for the drawer of his nightstand. He returned to her triumphant, condom in hand.
Summer reached for it.
“No, baby. I want this to last, and for that to happen, you need to keep your hands to yourself.”
She laughed as he hastily rolled it on before cuffing her hands overhead with one of his.
He rained kisses down on her, gentle nibbles down her neck, across her chest. His beard tickled the sensitive tips of her breasts.
Settling himself between her legs, he brought his mouth back to hers. Rather than the scorching inferno, his lips brought a slow burn. Summer opened her legs, inviting him in. His tongue teased her lips as the crown of his penis gently pressed against her.
Carter’s free hand found her breast and began to knead. She sighed against his mouth as pleasure and need swamped her.
He plunged into her as his tongue took possession of her mouth. Smooth, slow strokes teased her, carrying her higher and higher.
Thunder rumbled outside the window.
Carter released her hands and carefully lowered his weight to her. She met his measured thrusts with eager hips. Rocking into him, she accepted everything he gave.
“My beautiful girl.” His lips teased one sensitive nipple and then the other.
Her breath caught, and then their gazes.
She felt the tall, liquid wall building, cresting inside her.
“Carter,” she whispered, frantic with need and fear.
“I’m with you,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Let it happen, Summer.”
The dam broke, and she felt the climax flood every cell of her body. Carter was with her, pouring into her. They became one, the aftershocks forging them together.
It felt like hours later when Summer finally brought herself back to life. Carter was passed out on his stomach, an arm outstretched anchoring her to his side.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand and squinted at the screen.
“It’s ten o’clock!” She shook Carter’s shoulder.
His hand blindly reached out until it found her forehead and shoved her head back down on the pillow.
“Carter.” Her voice was muffled by the hand that now covered her mouth.
She wriggled free and crawled on top of him to press her face to his. “We slept in,” she whispered.
He opened an eye and then closed it.
She pinched him. He growled.
“Don’t we have work to do?”
“I fed all the animals and paid Jax fifty bucks to turn off the irrigation systems so we could sleep in. Figured you were probably tired since we didn’t get much sleep the night before last.”
“You’re the most amazing man on the planet. I’m going to make you breakfast,” she announced. Summer pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid off the bed. She pulled on the shirt he had worn the night before and padded out of the room.
Carter dragged himself out of bed. He’d better go save his kitchen.
They had oatmeal and fresh juice on the side porch, enjoying the rainy morning.
“What time do you have to leave tomorrow?” Carter asked.
“I have a production meeting at two at the office. So I’ll need to leave here by ten.”
“I was thinking we could have dinner just the two of us tonight.”
“That would be perfect. I’d love that.”
“You didn’t let me finish. It turns out that my mother has other plans. We’re having everyone over tonight and grilling.”
“One last hurrah,” Summer said sadly.
“It won’t be the last,” he promised.
She sipped the juice and swallowed hard. Tomorrow night, she’d be in her own bed in her own apartment, three hours away from the farm, from Blue Moon, from Carter.
She thought she’d be excited about going home. It was where she belonged. Lord knew she had more than enough work to catch up on. And a good story to write. But there was no Carter Pierce in the city. And there was no senior editor job in Blue Moon.
They would just see where things went.
They spent the rest of the day in companionable silence, both working in Carter’s office upstairs. Summer made headway on the article and handled magazine-related tasks while Carter muttered over spreadsheets and certifications.
They packed it in around four when the rain broke. With a kiss on her forehead, Carter left to take care of some things outside.
Summer used the opportunity to half-heartedly pack what she could. Choosing an outfit for tonight and laying out what she would wear in the morning. She carefully folded pants and shirts, tucking them into her suitcase.
She spotted the shirt Carter had worn the night before on the floor of the closet and with only a moment’s hesitation tucked it into the bottom of her suitcase.
She would give it back. Eventually.
In the meantime, it would be her little secret.
She dressed for dinner in a white cotton sundress topped with her new denim shirt and proudly pulled on her boots for one last wear on the farm. Would she have the occasion to wear them in the city? she wondered.
She clattered down the stairs just as Carter came through the front door carrying two covered bowls. He looked at her wolfishly.
“What?” Summer asked.
He dumped the bowls on the hallway table and snatched her off the stairs. Carrying her into the formal living room, Carter pinned her against the wall. “You look good enough to eat,” he whispered against her ear, teeth snagging on her earlobe.
She shivered against him as his hands skimmed her curves. The front door opened again, but neither of them moved.
“I see Carter didn’t get very far with the food.” Phoebe’s voice carried into the living room.
Summer couldn’t quite catch her breath as Carter, ever so gently, lowered his mouth to hers. Completely at his mercy, she poured herself into the kiss. It was like touching the sun. The heat of it warmed her blood.
“What was that for?” she gasped when he pulled back.
“In case I don’t get to do it again for th
e next few hours.” He tucked her hair behind her ears. “Now get out of here. I can’t get un-hard with you looking at me like that. And if I go into the kitchen with a raging hard-on, I’m going to scar my family for life.”
Summer glanced down at the crotch of his jeans. “Later? Please?”
“I promise.”
She moved out of his grasp, away from the wall. “Oh, and Carter?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“I’m not wearing underwear.”
She heard the sharp intake of his breath as she skirted around the corner into the foyer. She was still grinning when she delivered the covered bowls to Phoebe and Franklin in the kitchen.
They gathered en masse on the farm for Summer’s last night there.
Even Joey graced them with her presence, though she kept a safe distance between her and Jax at all times. Undeterred, Jax made it his mission to get as close to her as possible. To Summer, it was like watching a slow motion chase.
Phoebe and Franklin canoodled by the stove in the kitchen while Beckett glared at them until Carter dragged his brother outside to help with the grill.
When the food was ready, they opened the doors of the little barn to eat at the enormous wood plank table. They stacked drinks and dessert on a smaller table against the wall. Citronella candles kept the bugs away and made for a more festive feel.
There was grilled chicken a la Beckett for the meat-eaters and tasty veggie kebabs with a tangy marinade. Garden salad, pasta salad, coleslaw, and baked beans rounded out the evening’s menu.
Carter took the seat on her right, his hand resting high on her bare thigh at the very edge of her dress hem.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to him as dishes were passed around the table.
“Torturing you the way you torture me.” His eyes glinted with lust.
Summer stifled a gasp when his hand moved another inch higher under the skirt of her dress. “Carter Pierce! You behave yourself at the dinner table,” she hissed.