No More Secrets: A Small Town Love Story (The Pierce Brothers Book 1) (13 page)

At least one of her parents was interested enough to follow what she was doing. “I’m on an assignment for the magazine. It’s a piece on an organic family farm upstate.”

“That farmer doesn’t look like any of the ones I grew up around,” her mom teased. Annette had grown up in a small Pennsylvania farming community north of Philadelphia.

“He isn’t like anything I imagined,” Summer confessed.

Her mother must have detected something in her tone. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“I don’t really have time, Mom. Work has been so busy.”

“Work, work, work. You’re so much like your father.”

The words were both balm and burn.

“Well, you eventually wore him down and got him to take a good look at you,” Summer reminded her. “Maybe someday someone will wear me down, too.” Her parents, both career-oriented professionals, hadn’t met and married until their mid-thirties.

“Darling, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I want. I don’t care what it looks like. Just be happy.”

Summer smiled. “I will do my very best.”

“Good girl. Now, do you want to talk to your father?”

Summer’s stomach plunged. She wanted to say no. She wanted to end the call on a high note. She was tired of trying. Tired of disappointing.

“Oh, he must have just ducked out. Phil!” Annette yelled for her husband.

“Don’t bother him, Mom,” Summer insisted. She imagined her father had left the room the second he heard Annette offer him up for a conversation. Maybe he was tired of the disappointment, too.

“Well, I’d better go,” Summer said with forced brightness.

“Thanks for calling, sweetie. Talk soon.”

Summer hung up and stuffed the phone into her back pocket.

“Now you’re the one hiding.” The voice behind her, so familiar in such a short time, sent a warm tingle up her spine.

Summer turned to Carter, his face shadowed in the waning evening light.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“Did you get anything to eat?” he asked.

“I’m not really hungry,” Summer admitted.

Carter nodded, studying her. “Your parents?”

“Eavesdrop much?”

“I live in Blue Moon. They teach a class on it in junior high.”

“It was my mom. I was just checking in with her.”

“And that made you sad?”

She could have had the phone call with her mom in New York and not a single person she came in contact with afterwards would have noticed it made her sad.

“My relationship with them is ... strained.” She chose her words carefully.

“Let’s take a walk.” Carter slung his arm over her shoulders and led her further away from the house.

She let him. For just a few minutes she wanted to pretend to have someone to lean on. Someone she could trust. She wondered if Carter felt that way about all of Blue Moon.

“You’re all very lucky to have each other. I never knew it could be like this. Back home, we don’t trust anyone. Not our neighbors, not our co-workers, and certainly not strangers on the street. Sometimes not even family. We kind of operate like everyone else could be out to get us.”

“It’s not healthy, seeing everyone as a potential threat,” he ventured.

Summer nodded. “You know, I’ve never met my next door neighbor. And the only conversation I’ve had with the lady across the hall is when she accused me of stealing her cat.”

“Did you?”

Summer smiled. “No. Her ex-husband did. But look what you have. A whole town turned out today to help a man who didn’t even ask for it. And now it’s a party with music, and food, and a campfire.” She gestured toward a clump of Mooners who were dancing and swaying and giggling under a cloud of blue smoke.

Carter sniffed the air. “Honey, that’s not a campfire.”

“Oh.”

“What about your family? Do you have siblings?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Only child.”

“What are your parents like?”

“They’re RV-ing in Alaska right now.”

“That’s what they’re
doing
. That’s not what they’re
like
.”

Summer weighed her words. “They’re retired. My mom was a social worker and my dad was a journalist turned journalism professor. We used to be really close, my dad and I. He’d read the Sunday paper to me like it was a bedtime story. He was old-school journalism, you know? Independent, unbiased, advertisers and politics be damned.”

“What happened?” Carter kept their pace slow and even as they followed the edge of the field.

“I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. Be the
New York Times’
second-generation Lentz.”

“But you didn’t want that?”

She shook her head. “So much had changed in journalism by then. It was one of the reasons my father left the paper and started teaching. Where he saw a decline in print, I saw an opportunity for growth on the digital side. Newspapers weren’t quick to change so I set my sights on magazines. They were faster to adapt to the demand for digital resources.”

She closed her eyes, remembering the conversation. The argument. The hurt.

“I expected some resistance from him. You can’t expect a newsman to just forget about the newsprint that’s been in his blood for twenty-five years. But he dug in so deep and I didn’t expect it. He was very disappointed when I shifted my focus in college and even more so when I took the job at
Indulgence
.”

Disappointed was a kind word.

When she changed her major her junior year, he cut off her college funding after a spectacular Thanksgiving dinner argument. Phil Lentz was used to getting his way. Used to having his little girl agree with his well-formed and well-communicated opinions.

But didn’t she deserve to stand on her own two feet?

“How are things now?” Carter skimmed his hand down her arm.

“Chilly,” she said, with a grim smile. “A little better now that we don’t see each other twice a month for Sunday dinner anymore. Less disappointment to be felt by all.”

“He’s disappointed in you and your choices, but does your father know that he disappointed you?”

Leave it to Carter to get to the heart of the matter.

She shook her head. “No. When he refused to listen to my reasons for going into magazine work, I refused to keep defending my decision. We don’t talk much now.” She looked up and out, over the gentle shadows of hills and fields.

She leaned into Carter, wanting to feel that solid presence.

Summer smiled sadly. “I bet your mom wouldn’t let something like that happen.”

Carter’s laugh was soft. “No, Phoebe Pierce would not stand for estrangement. She’d show up at your door every day for as long as it would take for you to let her in again.”

“She’s a wonderful person.”

“We are very lucky to have her. Lucky to have had our dad, too. Together they were something. I think that’s why none of us have gotten close to marriage yet. They set the bar pretty damn high and none of us want to settle for anything less.”

“I love how close you all are,” Summer said, envy in her tone. “Sometimes in a city of millions I feel like I’m all alone. Maybe more often than not.” She looked down at her feet.

Why was she spilling all this?

“Summer, you’re never alone,” Carter’s grip on her tightened. “You’re an honorary Mooner. We don’t let anyone be alone. This group of well-meaning weirdos got me through a lot.”

“Like what?” She liked the way she felt with his arm around her. Liked the way her name sounded on his lips.

“Like when I came home with bullet holes and anxiety so bad I still felt like I was in the field.”

They stopped walking and Summer turned to face him. “I’m so sorry, Carter.”

“PTSD, they said it was. But I got through it, thanks to these people,” he jerked a thumb behind them. “Beckett would get in the ring with me when I felt like I couldn’t fight back the shadows alone. Fighting someone felt better to me than fighting something. Those first few weeks back were a nightmare. One or both of us was constantly sporting a black eye.” He shook his head at the memory.

“I had help on the farm, help with the house. Mom made me lunch every day and stayed until I was better. Jax called every damn day for six weeks straight. And Joey got me on horseback. The closer I got to animals, to nature, to real people the more pieces of my soul I got back.”

Summer laid a hand on his arm. “What was it like? The PTSD.”

He looked out into the darkness. “Like everything was a threat. Like there was no hope or happiness. Just a constant state of alert. And I was angry. It took a long time to feel anything but anger or fear. But through that I learned that we’re stronger together.”

Carter put his hands on her waist and pulled her in.

“How do you feel now?” she breathed, her heart hammering in her ears.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, settling his thumbs under her chin. “Let’s find out.”

This time there was no wavering. No second-guessing.

The sweet, gentle pressure of his lips on hers had Summer bringing her hands to his chest where her fingers gripped his shirt. He smelled like sunshine and grain. He tasted like nothing she had ever sampled before.

Carter teased her mouth open, and Summer sighed into the kiss as it deepened. The sweetness slowly began to melt into something more intense. One of his hands dove into her hair and fisted there. Her breath caught in her throat.

“God, I love your hair,” he whispered against her mouth. “And your eyes. When you look at me it just guts me.”

She shivered against him and he pulled her in tighter. He took ownership of her mouth under the spring moon. Her heart stuttered and tumbled as the kiss turned gentle again.

His hands streaked up her sides, down her back holding her to him. His warmth penetrated the chill of the evening. She wanted more. So much more.

“Will you take me home?” she whispered. “Please.”

“Yes.”

C
arter was careful to touch only her hand on the way home. He was worried if he touched her that he’d pull over and ruin what should be something special. She deserved romance, stars and candles, and soft words, not the backseat of a Jeep.

He didn’t want to scare her with the ferocity of his need. His blood was pumping in hot, hard thrums. And still he only stroked her thumb with his. 

He eased up to the front of the house, fearful that his heart would explode before he got his hands on her. Summer unfastened her seatbelt and leaned across to kiss him. It was all the invitation the beast inside needed.

Their mouths met in a tangle and the whimper from the back of her throat had him cruising his hands over her curves. She perched on the console, worked him from his jeans while her mouth sampled his.

Her slim hands circled his shaft and pumped. Once. Twice. He felt the wetness seep out and knew he was in trouble.

“Christ, Summer,” he hissed.

He pulled her hand free and returned his focus to her mouth. So much sweetness and need. It tempted him, tortured him.

When her hand skimmed down his body again, he dragged her across the console.

Trying to get out, he found he was still wearing his seatbelt. And he’d left the Jeep running. Yanking off the belt and turning the key, Carter pulled her out the door. Summer wrapped those long, long legs around his waist and he leaned her against the fender of the Jeep.

“I can’t get enough of your mouth,” he murmured. He pressed his lips to hers as his hands cruised over her body. The slim hips, the flat stomach, her soft, round breasts. Her fingers threaded into his hair and gripped as he crushed his mouth to hers.

Carter carried her to the porch. The front door was unlocked, but it seemed so far away.

She unwrapped her legs and slid down his body. When her boots hit the porch she dropped to her knees and with no warning took him into her mouth.

It happened so fast he had no time to brace himself. Those soft lips wrapped around him, taking the head of his shaft into the back of her throat. She moaned, and the vibration nearly sent him over the edge.

“Summer, wait —”

But she didn’t listen. That hot mouth slicked over him again and again drawing him deeper into heaven. He was too close.

Carter grabbed her hair and yanked her up. “Not yet, baby.” He needed her lips off of his dick so he could touch every inch of her, discover all her secrets. He wanted to taste her, stroke her, worship her.

He dragged her to the porch swing, unbuttoning, unzipping as they went. He shoved her down on the swing and dropped to his knees. Her boots were first. He tossed one and then the other over his shoulder. Next came the jeans. He worked them down her hips, careful to leave her underwear in place.

He had plans for that lace.

Carter freed one leg from her jeans and spread her thighs. In the moonlight the plum scrap was the only barrier between him and what he desired most of all. He pressed a kiss to it and groaned when Summer’s legs wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him in.

“Look at me.” His voice was jagged as gravel.

Summer’s gaze, wide and glassy, met his. He tugged her underwear to the side and slid two fingers into her tight center.

She closed her eyes on a gasp, arching against him.

“Open your eyes, Summer.” He wanted to watch her as he ravaged her. Wanted to know that thoughts behind her eyes were only of him, his hands and the pleasure they brought.

Her lashes fluttered open and he withdrew slowly before driving back inside. She was so tight around his fingers. It made him grit his teeth to imagine what it would feel like to take her.

He pulled out of her and brought his fingers to his mouth, tasted. She whimpered and strained against him, needing more.

Carter slid his hands under her perfect ass and lifted her to his mouth. His tongue followed the sweet, slick folds to her sensitive bud. He flicked it gently and heard her sob. His mouth moved lower until he found her center. With a deft thrust of his tongue, he tasted heaven.

Her thighs quivered. He tasted and licked, thrusting just enough to make Summer cry for more.

She was so close already. He needed to take her over the edge. “I need you to come, baby.” He sheathed his fingers in her again as deep as they could go and stroked her with his tongue. She writhed against him.