by Lucy Score
“Carter. Carter Pierce.”
“You slept with him!”
Summer jumped up and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up!” she hissed.
He dragged her hand down. “I knew something was different about you,” he said triumphantly.
“Will you keep your voice down?”
He laughed. “Ms. I Have No Time for Relationships when it comes to models and investment bankers goes and falls for a farmer!”
Summer groaned and sank back in her chair. “Just what’s it going to cost me to get you to keep your big, fat mouth shut?”
“Smuggle some vodka into the barnyard for me and we’ll call it even,” he smirked.
“You are insufferable.”
“That’s why the ladies love me.”
“I’m throwing up now.”
“It’s good to have you back.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out. Leave me to my misery,” Summer sighed.
She got home at the reasonable hour of nine that night and gratefully changed out of her work clothes into Carter’s shirt. Summer had stayed late to get a jump on a few projects. Her conversation with Kira had reminded her of the dangers of taking her eye off the prize. If she slacked off, even just a little, someone would always be there to step into her shoes and take what she had worked so hard for.
She poured a glass of wine and carried it and her veggie stir-fry to the couch. Into the third week, and she was still eating like a vegetarian. It really wasn’t bad. And if the diet had the positive health benefits it was supposed to, the sacrifice of bacon and burgers would be worth it in the long run.
She scrolled through the comments on her blog, noting that many of them were asking about Carter and the farm. Summer hoped she would do them justice in the article. The article that was due to Katherine in exactly two days.
She had a solid draft but wanted to take another pass at it with fresh eyes to make sure she was telling the best story she could.
Her phone signaled an incoming video call.
Carter.
She was already smiling as she answered the call.
“Hello, handsome.”
He was on the couch, too, in his Pierce Acres t-shirt.
“Nice shirt,” she grinned.
“I could say the same for you. I’ve been looking for that one.” His voice soothed away the stress of the day.
“Oh, this old thing? I borrowed it. It smells like you.”
“Right off the farm me or after shower me?”
Summer held the collar up to her nose and sniffed. “A little bit of both. I like it.”
“How was your day?” Carter asked, leaning back against the cushions.
“It wasn’t bad.” She thought of Kira and Niko and decided not to mention either conversation. “Lots going on for the next issue. How about you?”
“You know I can read you like a glossy magazine, right? I’m not buying the ‘it wasn’t bad’ answer.”
Summer smiled. “Really? What am I thinking right now?”
Carter raised a dark eyebrow. “Honey, get your mind out of the gutter and tell me about your day.”
She did, sparing him her wish to toss Kira off a building. “How is it everyone can look at me and know that we had sex?”
“If you figure it out, let me know because Gordon Berkowicz told me I had a ‘healthy glow,’ and Bobby took one look at me when I dropped off her delivery and started laughing.”
“Did she say why?”
Carter shrugged in equal parts annoyance and amusement. “She said I was whistling and had a ‘big, stupid smile’ on my face.” He held up his fingers as quotes.
“Awh, poor baby. Are those mean Mooners picking on you?”
“Yes,” he frowned. “Come save me from them.”
“I wish I could, but it looks like I’m going to be stuck in the city until I come see you for the shoot.”
“If the motel is off the table—and I know how much you love animal crackers and stale candy bars for dinner—I was going to suggest I come to you.”
Summer sat upright. “You’d come here?”
Carter ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah. If you’re okay with it, I think I can get away for the weekend.”
“This weekend?” Summer squeaked. “The whole weekend? Are you serious?”
He chuckled. “I take it you’d like that?”
“Well, I guess,” Summer shrugged her shoulder. “I mean if you bring the animal crackers, I don’t see why not. I have a gallery opening thing Friday night. Can you be my date for it?”
“What time does it start?”
“Eight.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get away early enough.”
“But after?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Is there anything you want to do while you’re here in town?”
“Just you.”
20
Hands on hips, Summer surveyed her apartment. Fresh flowers? Check. A fridge full of beer and vegetarian-friendly goodies? Check. Fresh sheets on the bed? Check. Box of condoms? Two actually. Check and check.
She was ready for an entire weekend with Carter. All she had to do was get through the gallery opening tonight, and then he would be here. She allowed herself a twirl to the happy strings of Vivaldi playing softly on her stereo.
Summer smoothed her hands over her dress. Perfect for summer in Manhattan, the silver crystal halter-top had a plunging neckline that ended just above the cinched waist. Blush chiffon fell to form a soft, layered skirt that floated away from her body ending several inches above the knees. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low bun fed with thin braids.
She wished she was going with Carter tonight, but dragging him to an event like this would be the equivalent of harvesting lettuce. No one really wanted to do it, and afterward you’d feel tired, sore, and a little abused.
Summer grabbed her clutch and was in the middle of one last makeup check in the mirror when she heard a knock at the door.
A peek through the peephole had her yanking the door open. “Carter!” Her heart did a cartwheel. She launched herself at him. “I thought you couldn’t come until late tonight?”
“Surprise.” He lifted her from the waist and carried her back inside.
The kiss was carnal, possessive. The heat of it singed her, igniting her on the inside. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered against his mouth, her lips teasing his. “How did you get in the building?”
“One of your neighbors downstairs buzzed me in. I helped her carry her groceries.”
Of course he did, Summer sighed.
Carter finally pried her off him and held her at arm’s length. “You look amazing,” he said, taking her in from head to toe.
“I could say the same about you,” Summer said, scrubbing her lipstick off his mouth. He was wearing a navy blue suit, sans tie, that looked like it had been created just to highlight his powerful body. His pants did nothing to hide his erection. “You look good in a suit. Did you borrow it from Beckett?”
“Just the shoes,” he tugged his pant leg up to expose shiny loafers in a rich cognac tone. “A guy can’t go to a gallery thing in jeans and a t-shirt with goat bites taken out of it.”
“You’re really going?” Summer squealed and clapped her hands. “This is going to be revenge for the lettuce.”
“I think I can handle tonight. Especially with you dressed like that.”
“You like?” She twirled around making her skirt billow out.
“Very sexy,” Carter grinned and dragged her in again. His fingers dipped into the neckline. “Maybe too sexy to leave the apartment.”
“Nice try, Pierce. Now get that situation under control,” she said pointing at his crotch. “Our Uber’s here.”
Carter watched in fascination as Summer went to work. She navigated the polished concrete floor of the gallery with grace and purpose, juggling details and mini-crises without breaking a sweat. She drank nothing but water and rem
embered the name of every person who approached her.
She apologized profusely every time she had to leave his side, but Carter was content to watch her work. The event was an interesting concept. A new art gallery wanted a big launch for their grand opening and partnered with a magazine-favorite designer to host a small, exclusive fashion show in the gallery.
Clothes as art? Beckett would love this shit, Carter thought. He fished his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of an impossibly tall, bone-thin woman and a round, bald man examining a seven-foot canvas that looked like clowns melting in a campfire. He texted it to his brothers.
Jax responded first. How much is that ketchup and mustard smeared masterpiece?
Beckett’s response was, of course, more people-oriented. Someone get that woman a protein shake before she eats that little man.
Carter smirked. Just another Friday night in Manhattan.
Jax sent a picture of two sets of bare legs propped up on Carter’s coffee table as he and Beckett watched TV in the great room. Just another Friday night in Blue Moon.
You both better be wearing shorts, Hollywood. I don’t want ball prints on the leather.
The next picture came in a minute later. Jax and Beckett were wearing nothing but shit-eating grins and strategically placed throw pillows.
I hate you guys.
Carter stuffed his phone back in his pocket when Summer returned to him with a beer in hand.
“Are you taking selfies?” Summer’s eyes sparkled. She handed him the beer.
“Just checking on the farm,” he fibbed.
“Everything okay?”
He thought of the couch he was going to have to burn. “Nothing that can’t be fixed when I get back.”
She leaned in a little closer, and he felt his heart rate ratchet up a notch. “I’m really glad you’re here, Carter.”
“Me, too,” he said, running a finger down the flesh of her exposed back. “I like watching you work.”
Raised voices reached them. “Speaking of,” she craned her neck trying to get a better look at the commotion. “I’ll be right back.”
He watched the drama unfold from the safety of the bar. It appeared that a very good-looking man and a stunning woman were about to come to blows.
“Anastasia,” he heard Summer’s voice soothe. “You weren’t supposed to be here until ten, remember? After Alexi left.”
Voices rose and fell, and the woman with the thick Eastern European accent pouted with her superbly enhanced lips.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” A trim man in tortoise shell glasses and a pinstripe suit pointed his glass of champagne at Summer. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up running the place someday.”
Summer now had Alexi and Anastasia posing for a photographer together. They weren’t smiling, but at least no blood had been drawn.
“Now she’ll have the fashion world in a tizzy wondering if those two are back together again. I’m Quincy, by the way.” He held out a slim, manicured hand and Carter shook it.
“Carter Pierce.”
“The Carter Pierce of Summer’s new article? Very interesting.”
They watched as Alexi pulled Summer into the picture. The man’s hand traveled down her back to cup her ass.
Carter started forward, but Quincy put a hand on his chest. “Hold on there, Tiger. She’s got this.”
Summer grasped Alexi’s hand firmly and removed it from her ass. She thanked the photographer for his time and turned to the model with bad manners.
“Here it comes,” Quincy said with the tiniest hint of glee. “The Summer Brush-Off. Sometimes it takes the dumber ones longer to get the message.”
Carter couldn’t hear what she said, but the color drained from the model’s face. He began nodding profusely. When Summer was finished, the man made a formal bow and hurried away.
He caught a glimpse of the self-satisfied smile on her face before she composed herself.
“I see you’ve met Quincy,” she said when she returned to Carter. Summer dropped a kiss on Quincy’s cheek. “Quincy is our executive creative director.”
“Yes, and Carter here farms the earth,” Quincy said. “You didn’t tell me he was gorgeous, Summer.”
Carter shoved his hands in his pockets, and Summer laughed.
“You’re embarrassing him, Quincy. Besides, there’s a lot more to him than a gorgeous face.”
“Oh, I can see that,” he said, giving Carter the once over. “Have you introduced him to Katherine, yet? I can just imagine the ideas she’s going to get once she lays eyes on him.”
Carter shifted uncomfortably.
“Not yet.”
“Well, my dears. I see some advertisers whose asses require kissing. It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said to Carter. After another kiss on the cheek for Summer and one last look at him, Quincy toddled off.
“Sorry I abandoned you,” Summer said, patting his jacket. “I was afraid World War Seventeen was about to break out between those two. They’ve been on again, off again so many times I can’t even keep track. The last ‘off again,’ lawyers had to get involved.” She sighed. “Did you get anything to eat yet?”
Carter shook his head. “I saw some tiny dots being passed around on trays, but it looked more like play dough sculptures than food.”
“That’s what happens to the food when you’re catering for models and the people who manage them. You’d think the catering budget would be lower for these events, but it’s just as expensive. Apparently beautiful people can only consume beautiful appetizers. We’ll grab a bite on the way home. I promise.”
“What’s the story there?” he asked, nodding toward the handsy male model.
“Anastasia and Alexi?”
“He grabbed you.”
She paused, long enough for Carter to realize she was thinking about brushing it off.
He took her hand and tugged her behind a thick brick pillar.
Summer squeezed his fingers. “Alexi thinks he’s God’s gift to all women. Including ones who aren’t interested in his pretty face and chauvinistic attitude.”
“Is he a problem?”
She shook her head. “I handled it. I very calmly explained that if he didn’t start showing me—and every other woman he comes in contact with—some respect, then Indulgence would be forced to recommend Ari Ray to advertisers for any and all upcoming campaigns.”
“Who’s Ari Ray?”
“Another model and Alexi’s sworn enemy. Their feud is basically the plot of Zoolander.”
He felt his lips quirk, even though he still felt like punching Alexi in his pretty face. She shouldn’t have to fight these battles. And not just because she was his.
“Does this kind of thing happen often?”
Summer gave a dainty shrug. “There’s always someone who’s too drunk or too thick to get the message the first time around. The trick is finding a way to get your message across without pepper spraying every idiot you meet.”
“Summer,” he kept his voice low, controlled. “I don’t like it.”
“Imagine how I feel, Carter.” Her blue eyes were earnest. “Would it be great to never have to worry about being groped or not having to be careful walking alone? Sure. But the problem isn’t that I’m a woman. The problem is a small percentage of the population are—”
“Assholes? Dicks? Douchebags?”
She smiled. “All of the above. But you know what? It makes a girl appreciate someone like you even more.”
Carter pulled her fingers to his mouth. He kissed them softly.
“I appreciate everything about you, Carter,” she said, her voice a husky whisper that sent his blood south. A feline smile spread across her face.
“Well look at you two hiding away in a corner.” A man in dark jeans and a blazer over a casually rumpled button down leaned down to kiss Summer’s cheek. “Hello, beautiful.”
Summer’s smile brightened. “Niko, what are you doing here?”
This
was a man she didn’t feel the need to pepper spray, Carter noted. Instead, she pulled him in for a tight hug.
“Katherine suggested that I make myself available. I had to break a date.” He looked pained.
“Carter, I’d like you to meet Nikolai Vulkov. He’s the relatively brilliant photographer who will be coming out to the farm with me.”
“Right. The Wolf,” Carter shook the offered hand. Nikolai shook like a man, a few degrees shy of bone crushing.
“You make the mistake of telling one pretty blonde what your name means in Russian, and she never lets you live it down,” he lamented.
“If the fur fits,” Summer said innocently.
“She’s tenacious,” Carter agreed.
“I’m not sure how you survived her following you around asking questions for an entire week.”
Summer’s chin lifted an inch. “Excuse me! I was a delightful houseguest.”
“That I can attest to,” Carter said, stroking a hand down her back out of Nikolai’s view.
“Well, she did come back glowing. And smiling. And she’s been staring off into space with a dreamy look on her face. It must be all that fresh, country air,” Nikolai teased.
Carter gauged the situation. “I take it he knows?”
“Yep.” Summer glowered at Nikolai. “He has a very big mouth, so we may have to kill him.”
“We’ll feed him to Clementine,” Carter suggested, making Summer laugh.
“Who’s Clementine?” Nikolai demanded.
“Oh, just a pretty little lady who’s going to want to take a few bites out of you.” Summer smiled sweetly.
“I’m actually starting to look forward to this assignment.” He took a sip of his martini and glanced around the room. “I’d better get going. I need to make sure Katherine sees me here before I sneak out.”
Nikolai said his goodbyes and headed out.
“Will there be any lettuce left to harvest when we come back for the photo shoot?” Summer asked sweetly.
Carter laughed. “Sorry, honey. But I’m sure we can come up with something equally horrible for him.”
“That’s what I like about you, Carter Pierce.”