No More Secrets: A Small Town Love Story (The Pierce Brothers Book 1) (8 page)

Summer dropped a slice onto his plate. She had a feeling the Pierce family’s peace and quiet was in for a shake-up.

S
ummer woke disoriented in the dark to the sounds of a scuffle.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. Carter’s house. Blue Moon Bend. After dinner the night before, she had posted a blog and started organizing her interview notes for the article before exhaustion forced her into bed at the pathetic hour of 9 p.m. No wonder she was confused.

Another thud from downstairs sounded. That was most definitely the sound of a body hitting the floor.

She yanked on a cardigan over her tank top and boxers and scurried down the stairs. Her trembling fingers found the light switch just inside the front door. She flipped it on and flooded the foyer with light.

Carter, wearing only pajama pants, was rolling around on the floor grappling with another man.

“God damnit, you know who I am, Carter! Stop hitting me, asshole,” the stranger cursed.

“I know it’s you. That’s why I’m hitting you,” Carter grunted, releasing him from the chokehold.

They sat up and beyond the twin bloody noses and blooming bruises Summer saw the family resemblance.

“Jackson,” she gasped.

Both men swiveled to face her. Carter dragged his brother to his feet.

“This Summer?” Jackson asked, swiping at the blood on his face.

“How the hell does everyone in this damn place know who I am?” Summer groaned. She stomped past the brothers to the kitchen.

They followed her back and watched her start the coffee pot. She tossed a box of tissues at Jackson, who shoved one up his nose to stem the bleeding and passed the box to Carter who did the same. “What is wrong with you two?”

“He broke into my house. He could have been a crazed maniac trying to kill you,” Carter started.

“You knew who he was when you punched him in the face,” she accused, dumping some ice cubes into a resealable bag. She threw it at Jackson, who put it on his eye.

“I wasn’t one hundred percent certain.”

“I said ‘It’s me, Jackson. Stop punching me in the face,’” his brother interrupted.

“Any maniac could have done some basic research and used that line.”

“Let’s get back to the main questions here, Jackson,” Summer said, snatching coffee mugs out of the cabinet. “What are you doing sneaking into your brother’s house at 5:30 in the morning, and how the hell do you and everyone else in this ridiculous town know who I am?”

“Well, you’re all over the Blue Moon Gossip group and your blog came up in my Google alert for the farm.”

“Hang on.” Summer pinched her nose between her finger and thumb and turned her back on Carter so she wouldn’t be distracted by his spectacular pecs. “What’s the Blue Moon Gossip group?”

“It’s a Facebook group for the town. See?” Jackson pulled it up on his phone and slid it across the island to her.

Summer scrolled through the photos and posts.

Spotted: Carter and Summer satisfying their sweet tooth with gelato and a romantic walk around town.

Spotted: Carter Pierce and Summer Lentz looking cozy at Peace of Pizza. Could this be the end of bachelorhood for the oldest Pierce brother?

Spotted: Carter Pierce treats his special lady friend, Summer, to a pair of vegan cowboy boots. Has he finally found his “solemate?”

Spotted: Carter Pierce opening his home to editor and blogger Summer Lentz. Could love be in the air on Pierce Acres?

The last post included a link to her blog, which explained the sudden jump in site traffic over the last two days.

“This is like Blue Moon’s answer to Page Six,” Summer groaned. “I need to sit down.”

Carter shuffled her to a barstool. His long fingers pulled her cardigan together and he worked his way down the buttons. Summer blushed, realizing her tank strap had slipped off her shoulder and was hanging precariously low.

He returned to the coffeemaker and started pouring mugs.

“While Summer wraps her head around becoming a Blue Moon celebrity, let’s get back to what the hell are you doing breaking into my house?”

“First of all, you never lock your door so it doesn’t count as breaking in. Secondly, when you hear why I’m here you’ll be pissed you wasted so much time trying to pound my face in.”

The bickering continued, while Summer scrolled through the Facebook group. “Hey, can I join this group?”

“Sorry. You have to be a Blue Moon resident, past or present,” Jackson explained.

The front door opened.

“Why the fuck am I getting a pre-dawn summons from Jax?” Beckett’s voice thundered down the hall.

“Oh, yeah. I called Beckett,” Jackson grinned.

“What the hell is going on here?” Beckett stomped into the kitchen. He was wearing gym shorts, a hooded sweatshirt, and neon running shoes.

“Quit whining. You were up already.” Jackson said, getting up to offer his brother a one armed hug.

“I was on my way to the gym.” Beckett slapped Jackson on the back. “What the hell are you doing here, Hollywood? I miss a fight?” He asked looking at the fresh bruises.

“Not much of one. LA’s softened him up too much. He was all ‘No, please, don’t hurt my pretty face,’” Carter mimicked in a girly whine.

“Oh for the love of God, will someone let Jackson tell us why he’s here?” Summer shouted.

“Thank you, Summer,” Jackson said. “Now, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Mom’s. I went there first to catch some sleep before surprising your asses with my presence. But she wasn’t alone.”

Carter’s gaze darted to Summer.

“What do you mean she wasn’t alone?” Beckett demanded. “Is Aunt Rose staying with her?”

Carter smacked him. “No dumbass. Would Jackson come over here babbling about an overnight guest if it was Aunt Rose?”

“It was a man,” Jackson interjected.

“Uncle Melvin?” Beckett asked hopefully.

“Sleeping in Mom’s bedroom? No. It wasn’t Uncle Melvin. His car was in the garage, not parked in the driveway or on the street. She’s definitely hiding him.”

“Is this the same guy you texted me about? The one Bobby saw her with at the winery?”

“I have no idea,” Carter shrugged.

“It better be,” Beckett frowned. “Well, let’s go.” He dug his car keys out of his pocket.

They piled into Beckett’s SUV, Jackson in the passenger seat and Summer and Carter in the back.

“Why would she keep something like this from us?” Jackson muttered from the front seat.

Summer didn’t have the heart to point out that the three reasons were hurtling toward Phoebe Pierce in an SUV as dawn broke.

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T
hey wasted no time letting themselves into Phoebe’s tidy townhouse. The front door opened to the kitchen and dining area on one side of the stairs and a living room to the left.

A chorus of “Moms” brought Phoebe downstairs in an ice blue fleece robe. “Boys. You’re old enough to make your own breakfast,” she laughed nervously. “Jackson! What are you doing here? What are any of you doing here at six in the morning?”

“I might ask you the same thing, Mom,” Jackson said, crossing his arms.

“Don’t you have something you want to tell us?” Beckett demanded.

“Is there someone you’d like to introduce us to?” Carter tried more gently.

“I don’t know what you three are talking about. And Carter, where is your shirt? Why did you drag Summer over here in her bare feet?”

“Whose car is in your garage, Mom?”

The man almost made his escape in the midst of the chaos. If Summer hadn’t caught a glimpse of pajama pants and a bathrobe shimmying down the front porch roof, he would have been home free.

She clapped a hand to her mouth to silence her gasp and Phoebe tried to wave her off, but Carter chose that moment to turn around.

“What the —”

The brothers charged out the door and down the porch stairs where they yanked the man off of the porch roof into the shrubs below.

“Oh, dear,” Phoebe sighed, and poured a little wine into a coffee mug.

They returned in a tangle of limbs and swearing with a middle-aged man in their midst.

“Now listen, boys. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was just checking the shingles —”

“Save it, Franklin,” Phoebe groaned.

“Franklin?” Beckett took a look at the intruder’s face. “Shit.” He released the man’s arm.

“Good to see you, Beckett. Hey, what time is the Chamber meeting this week?” Franklin asked.

“You know this guy?” Jackson demanded.

“It’s Franklin. He owns the Italian place. He buys produce from us,” Carter said, dropping the other arm.

“Well, boys, your mother and I —”

“I need to sit down,” Beckett announced and flopped down on the ottoman in the living room.

Jackson went to the fridge and pulled out a container of roast beef.

“Jackson Scott! That’s my lunch for today,” Phoebe yelled.

“I’m eating my feelings, Mom!”

Summer reached around Carter and offered her hand to Franklin. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Summer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Summer. The editor, right? Phoebe is really excited about the article. And I’ve heard a lot about you since you got into town. Sounds like love is in the air everywhere,” he winked.

Carter groaned.

“Oh my God. Summer, you’re not going to write about this, are you?” Beckett demanded, shoving his hands into his hair making it spring out between his fingers.

“I don’t think this will really fit well into the piece,” Summer said, diplomatically. No one would believe her anyway.

Carter moved Summer out of his way and headed to the coffeemaker. “I’m going to need more caffeine for this.” He jabbed the buttons on the machine until it sputtered to life. He lined up five mugs on the island before grudgingly grabbing a sixth.

“So, Mom. Where do you want to start?” he asked conversationally.

“How about how long has this been going on without you feeling the need to tell your own sons about it?” Beckett grumbled from the living room.

Phoebe sighed. “Well if you’re all here we might as well do this over breakfast. Jax, honey, I’m happy to see you, but if you don’t put the roast beef down now I’m going to beat you with a spoon,” she threatened.

Jax reluctantly shoved the container back in the refrigerator. “Fine, then I want eggs,” he said, pushing a carton of Pierce Eggs into her hands.

“And pancakes,” Beckett called.

“I make great pancakes,” Franklin announced, hurrying into the kitchen to join Phoebe at the stove. “Carter can you hand me the griddle? It’s in the cupboard on your left.”

“He knows where the griddle is,” Jax hissed at Beckett.

“He was climbing out of Mom’s bedroom window,” Beckett muttered through the throw pillow he was holding over his face. “He knows where a lot more than the griddle is.”

Carter pushed a mug of coffee into Summer’s hands. “Thank you for not laughing out loud,” he whispered in her ear.

“Are you mad?”

“I’m ... open to hearing their side of the story,” he decided.

“Will they be okay?” Summer nodded toward his brothers. Jax had joined Beckett in the living room and was unwrapping a dozen mini candy bars he found in a dish on the coffee table.

“They’ll be fine. In a decade or so.”

W
ith the scowl still in place, Beckett dropped everyone off at the farmhouse and sped off to take care of his mayoral duties for the day.

“You’ve got to hand it to Franklin,” Jackson yawned. “He does make a mean batch of pancakes.”

“Are you going to be okay with your mom dating?” Summer asked him as they trooped back the hall to the kitchen.

Jackson shrugged. “No one should go through life alone. They obviously care about each other. I just wish they would have told us about it before we had to haul him off a roof.”

“It’s a waste of time wishing that family would have made different decisions,” Carter said quietly. He wasn’t looking at Jackson when he said it, but the implication was clear.

“We’ve all made mistakes, Carter,” Jackson said evenly.

“I know,” that steely gaze leveled at his brother. “And it’s up to us to fix them. So make sure you do.”

There was a brisk knock at the side door before it opened. Joey marched in carrying a stack of papers. “Please tell me there’s coffee,” she yawned.

Jackson started for her and Joey froze in recognition. The papers in her hand tumbled to the floor in a slow motion whoosh. He didn’t stop until he was on her, hands threading into her hair, pulling her face in. His mouth met hers like it was locking in on a purpose for being.

Eyes wide, Summer wondered if all Pierce men kissed that way.

Joey pulled back looking dazed.

“Hey, Jojo,” Jackson breathed.

Summer saw the fire in Joey’s eyes and braced for it, her fingers digging into Carter’s arm, but Jackson never saw it coming. He only had eyes for Joey and missed the wind up. Her palm connected with his face with a resounding slap, knocking him back a pace.

Her boots echoed on the hardwood as she marched out the door. The screen door slammed behind her, papers forgotten on the floor.

“Should have seen that coming,” Carter grinned.

“God, I love that woman,” Jackson whispered holding his cheek.

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C
arter wriggled his frame under the trailer hitch and pulled the cover off the wires. The taillights were shorting out and he didn’t want to give Donovan Cardona, Blue Moon’s sheriff and his high school buddy, a reason to pull him over and razz him.

It was nice and quiet here on the floor of the barn. He debated hiding out here all day.

He had put Summer and Jax to work divvying up the shares for their community supported agriculture program tomorrow. It was their biggest year yet. They had sold out in record time, and thankfully the early spring had been kind to their harvest of lettuce, radishes, broccoli, and squash.

His brother was back, and Carter didn’t know what it meant. Jax had come home for holidays occasionally over the years, but this visit felt different. Everything felt different.

He had a woman staying in his house that he couldn’t stop thinking about, one who questioned his every move. He had a group of well-meaning Mooners out to get him and force him into settling down. His mother was dating. He didn’t even want to think what Jax’s return meant for Joey.