Sawyer waves to Olivia and Jake who are now sitting at the bar. I gather up the dirty dishes at a nearby table that just left. I hear Olivia laugh and Jake’s grinning like an idiot.
Hmm. Olivia and Jake.
When the rain taps against the windows, the two of them linger a little longer at the bar and order another round of drinks.
A new table of guests sits in my section and I take their orders. Appetizers and drinks. My favorite kind of customers.
As I wait for my drink orders, I run food to tables. Stock the service stations with plates and silverware.
A loud boom of thunder erupts and then seconds later lightning flashes and crawls across the restaurant.
My gaze darts around looking to the bar. Jake and Olivia wave to me and head for the door. Under the patio awning, Olivia and Jake stop and chat. They don’t seem to mind the rain.
Seeing Olivia so happy makes me smile. She’s struggled her whole life with body image and self-confidence. Whitney and Courtney Leigh made her life miserable in high school.
Can’t wait to see their faces when Olivia walks into the reunion looking all happy and feeling good about herself.
I finish my shift and help with side work. Marrying ketchup and rolling silverware. Thunder rumbles low and I swear the building shakes.
“Hey, Caroline,” Chrissy says and walks behind the bar. “How was your night?”
“Pretty good. Made some great tips despite the rainy evening.”
“Yeah, I’m shocked at the sales numbers myself,” she confesses and pours herself a glass of wine.
“So . . . uh, my mother booked a wedding party the Saturday of Labor Day weekend . . . you want to manage the whole thing?”
Her green eyes dazzle with amusement. “Happy to help you out. I’ll move some things around on the schedule. I’ve got two people begging to work the holiday weekend. Lots of tourists coming in on those days.”
I place the last roll of silverware in the bin. “Don’t I know it.”
“Any truth to the rumor that your mom is selling off Cranberry Ridge to the Cardwells?”
Shock hits me like a tidal wave.
“What?”
“Guess you haven’t heard that rumor.” She takes a sip of wine.
“What would the Cardwells want with our place?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Dunno.”
Is this why Ma was at dinner with Royston? Maybe our financial state isn’t as great as I thought. Is she being forced to sell?
A thousand emotions flicker inside me.
“Hey, it’s just a rumor,” she says and pops open the register. “You know how things get blown out of proportion around here.”
Rubbing my neck, I blow out a deep breath. “I do, for sure.”
Brant
I go grocery shopping on Friday afternoons instead of Sundays. Sundays are my favorite day of the week. I like to soak up every minute of the weekend after a nonstop work week.
Currently, I’m in the pet aisle staring at dog beds, treats and bowls.
I want Caroline at my place more than just once or twice a week. And she has Julep—with a dog comes responsibility.
Caroline has yet to ask me to spend the night at her place. I’m assuming she doesn’t want her mom spying on her. But what do I know?
I don’t know anything because Caroline crashed hard again last night after her shift at Thistle & Ivy. Then she was out the door before the sun was up this morning. Told me that she had to be home for the air conditioning repair guy.
“Boy or girl?” I hear someone ask from behind me.
I turn to find a woman with purple streaks in her hair smiling at me. “Huh?”
“Your dog.” She motions to the bowl I’m holding in my hand.
“Oh, a girl . . . but she’s not mine. Uh . . .”
Her smile widens. “Your girlfriend’s. . . or boyfriend’s.”
“Girlfriend.”
For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if Caroline were mine—completely. Wholly. Fuck, I’d spoil her rotten all the time. Just like I’m about to do in regard to Julep.
Purple hair takes a step toward me. “I like the stainless-steel bowls. They’re rust resistant and the rubber base protects your floors and keeps it from sliding while they eat.”
“I see. Thanks.” I pull two bowls from the shelf.
“And I suggest the natural grain treats.” She points to a blue box. “They’re a little pricey here, but you can get them online way cheaper. Don’t tell Viola I gave you that tip.”
I laugh. Viola must be the owner. “Gotcha. What about dog beds?”
She crouches down to the beds on the bottom shelf. “These are the best on the market actually.” Purple hair hands me a grey foam bed. “Orthopedic and good for your fur baby at any age.”
My eyes bug out at the price.
She laughs “Sticker shock. I get it. I have four dogs myself.”
I place the bed into my cart. “Can’t imagine having four dogs . . . uhm . . .” I stare at her faux violet eyes.
“Bambi,” she answers. “Yeah, a handful. Now, you’ll want some of these . . . and definitely one of these,” she mutters on and on down the aisle and I follow her with my cart. Bambi adds a few toys, poop bags, and a pretty, metallic pink leash.
“You’re all set.”
“Thanks, Bambi, I really appreciate the help.”
“No problem. Good luck.” She turns on her heel and then bends to lift a giant bag of dog food into her cart.
I stare down into my cart unsure of where I’m going to put the groceries. I start to rearrange things. When I find it impossible by the sixth try, I decide to pay for my Julep essentials and then come back in for the groceries.
After I unload the car and put away the groceries, I start to set up for Julep. There’s a nice spot for her bed in the corner of the living room. Then I put her food and water dish on a mat in the kitchen under the island. And the leash hangs on the key holder by the door.
I step back and admire my handiwork hoping it makes Caroline smile.
After I pop a frozen pizza in the oven, I pull a beer from the fridge. I’m ready for the Cubs game and to chill.
An hour later, I’m full from pizza and the Cubs are taking a beating from the Reds.
Fuck.
I’m up getting my second beer when my phone rings. Boone’s name lights up my screen.
“Hey, Boone, what’s up, buddy?”
“Well, I . . . the band could use your help again. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” I ask, surprise evident in my tone.
“Yeah, sorry, man, but we’re in a real jam. Duke’s got strep throat.”
“Can you get that in the summer?”
He laughs. “You can get it any time.”
“Man, I don’t know.”
“Come on, it’s four hours. Nine to one over at Milt’s Pub. A thousand bucks between the four of us.”
I take a sip of beer. “Eh, I don’t need the money. Give it to Duke for his meds or whatever.”
“So, does this mean that you’re in?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
I look over the crowd. Tons of women clamor for my attention.
There’s only one woman whose attention I want and she’s not here. Not yet, anyway.
I sent a text to Caroline earlier and let her know that I was helping the band out again tonight. After the first set is over, I still haven’t heard from her.
Wiping the sweat from my brow I walk toward the bar.
“Hey,” Jerry, Milt’s head bartender and manager calls out. “Great set.”
“Thanks, man. Can I get a beer?”
“Sure thing,” he grins.
He hands me a bottle and I turn back to the crowd, dodging people and trying to avoid women pawing at me as I return to the stage.
“Oh my,” a feminine voice inches out. “Brantley Cardwell, I didn’t know that you could sing.”
Whitney Leigh, or is
it Courtney Leigh, stands in front of me. “Uh, yeah, I’m just helping out Boone and the band.”
“Do you take requests?” She bats her long eyelashes at me and twirls the ends of her hair.
“Not tonight.”
“Too bad.” She purses her lips. “You look good up there.”
“Uh, see ya later,” I say and wedge my way to through the crowd and back up to the stage.
“You ready to start again?” Boone asks.
“Let’s do this.” I take a long pull from the bottle and then step up to the mic.
Over the next hour we belt out songs and the girl Caroline knows from high school keeps flashing her dark eyes my way. Everywhere I try to find a focal point she’s there.
Before our last set, I sneak out the back door to the alley to drink my beer and check my phone. Nothing from Caroline. They must be slammed at the restaurant.
I walk back inside, and I’m knocked into the wall. Beer spills down my shirt. Shaking the cobwebs, I look up to find a guy who looks like an NFL linebacker staring at me. He’s got a toothpick hanging out of his mouth and a giant snake tattoo running up his forearm.
“The fuck you looking at?” he spits out.
I hold up my hands. “Nothing just trying to get back to the stage.”
Courtney Leigh’s dark eyes meet mine as I pass by him. She looks uncomfortable. That’s when I see he’s got one hand on her hip holding her against him.
She tries to move, but he grabs her arm pulling her back. She wriggles out of his hold and he tries to grab for her again.
Now, I know from what Caroline’s told me that this chick is awful, but no man lays hands on a woman because he thinks he’s got the right.
“Hey, Courtney Leigh,” I interject. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hiii, yeah, I was, uh, looking for you too.” She moves to stand next to me.
They guy swings his gaze between the two of us. “You dating this guy?”
“No, we’re old friends,” she says and brushes past him. “I’m leaving.”
“Look, baby, I told you that I was sorry.”
“Your ‘I’m sorry’ means nothing to me, Cameron.”
Oh, these two know one another.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, she wasn’t half as good as you,” he calls out.
She rolls her eyes, then grabs my hand and leads me onto the dance floor. Tyler Childers, “House Fire” plays over the speakers. Her arms twine over my shoulders.
“Hey, I gotta get back on stage.”
“Just dance with me until Cameron leaves the bar.”
“What’s up with you two?”
“Ex-boyfriend, caught him cheating. That’s why I’ve been back in Mayfield the last few weeks. Where’s Caroline?”
Nope. Not engaging.
The song ends and Boone gives me a nod.
“Gotta go,” I tell her and make my way back up to the band.
I jump onto the stage and we finish out the last set. I’m exhausted and to think I’d considered doing this for a living once.
“Thanks a lot for helping us out,” Jet says.
Gracie hugs me. “It was fun playin’ with you again, Brant.”
We finish packing up their van and then I head home. Still nothing from Caroline and now I’m worried.
My hand shakes as I unlock the door. I push through and I’m greeted by a jumping furry ball of cuteness.
Caroline sits at the island wearing nothing but a tank top and another pair of those tiny undies. She’s tapping away on her laptop. Julep runs to her bed and I make my way to Caroline. My mouth is on hers before she even says hello.
“Well, this is a surprise. Did you get any of my texts?”
“No, my phone died and the charger isn’t working.”
I wrap my arms around her from behind. “You need a backup? You can use mine.”
“Well, I would but I have an iPhone and you have an Android,” she points out.
“Oh yeah.” I snag a beer from the fridge. “So, I take it Julep likes her new digs?”
“She does. I can’t believe how thoughtful you were to do this for my dog.”
“How was your night?” I ask.
“Fine. I missed you. After my shift, I came back here and I saw what you’d done for Julep so I went home and picked her up. I decided to roll the dice and I guess she loves your place. And how was your night?”
“I missed you too. And my night . . . it was okay,” I say and take a seat beside her.
“Just okay?” She turns her laptop toward me and taps the screen. “This does not look like a guy having a just okay night.”
She hits play on a video someone posted on Instagram. I stare at myself singing “Ramblin’ Man.”
I take a long pull from my bottle. “Yeah, I had fun, but I’m not built for that kind of life. The wedding was one thing, but gigs like that . . .” I point to the screen. “Completely different animal.”
“So, you don’t think you’ll do it again?”
“Never say never, right? I told them at the wedding it was a one-time-only thing, but there I am singing up on stage, again. Plus, these bands do all this work and don’t make that much money. I feel bad because they are really good.”
Caroline blows out a deep breath. “Speaking of money . . . I found out something interesting.”
My brows rise. “What’s that?”
“Rumor has it that the Cardwells want to buy Cranberry Ridge.”
Caroline
Brant swallows his beer.
“Sugar, that rumor I know with one hundred percent accuracy is fake news.”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, but it would explain why they were together. And . . .” I cringe thinking about Ma’s tone when she questioned me about Brant the other night.
He dips his head to look at me. “And what?”
“I told Ma that I was going to stay with a friend on Wednesday night and she asked if you were that friend. The way she said your name . . . it was her tone. It was laced with irritation.”
He shakes his head. “You sure?”
I swallow. My heart takes a dive right into my stomach. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
His long fingers splay against his forehead. “Luckily, on Monday I’ve got a meeting with Royston to go over the financials. I can inquire about any new acquisitions. But I still maintain the theory that your mom might be looking for a new job.”
“Maybe. It’s a possibility since she’s dating Doctor Collins.” My gaze swings to Julep who is cozy in her bed and fast asleep. “You ready for bed?”
Brant stares at me, his eyes roam from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, as if he’s thinking about me naked. Which, for the record, is fine by me.
“Are you asking about sleep or other stuff?”
He pulls me toward him, nestling me between his thick thighs. With steady hands on my hips he kisses me. His lips map down my throat and over my pulse where his teeth scrape ever so lightly. The touch of his graze sends a rush of heat between my legs and tugs hard at my nipples.
“Brant,” I breathe.
“Caroline.” My name spills out with a rough edge to his voice.
Growly Brant. Yum.
His lips coast over the swell of my breasts. He looks up at me, a grin tugs at his lips.
Take me . . . fuck me. I want to tell him how turned on I am right now.
“I’ve been waiting for . . . for what seems like a lifetime,” I confess. “I’ve wondered what it would feel like to have your hands on me. Your mouth on me. You inside me.”
“Fuck, Caroline,” he hisses.
His hands skim up the sides of my thighs and his lips land on mine. His tongue dives into my mouth and the heat between my legs makes me dizzy with need. He picks me up and carries me back to his bedroom.
He tosses me onto his bed. The light from the moon casts shadows on his walls. He climbs onto the mattress and his blue eyes are lust filled.
Brant strokes me over my boy shorts in
a featherlight motion.
“I want you,” he whispers and his fingers find my clit. “I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you.”
Brant’s hands run along my calves and up my thighs. Then he goes to work on removing my boy shorts.
My nails rake over his thick shoulders.
Somehow we manage to discard all our clothes. It’s a tangle of limbs, kisses, and fabric. My heart pumps furiously at the reality that I’m going to have sex with Brant Cardwell.
That’s the seventeen-year-old in me screaming like she’s front row center at a BTS concert.
He smiles down at me in the dark. The weight and warmth of his masculine, muscular body on top of me is like heaven. His cock presses hard against me.
“I’m going to make you come so hard,” he whispers, his breath on my lips.
“I’m going to be loud . . . very loud.”
“Good. I want your screams as much as I want your orgasms.” His deep voice winds through me and my toes curl.
I cock a brow. “Orgasms? Like, as in multiples?”
“Oh, sugar, you have no idea.”
Wow.
He kisses me and I fall more under his spell.
Brant. Brant. Brant.
I love the way he smells. I love the warmth of his skin on mine and the hardness of his chest.
His mouth moves down my chest and my fingers weave through his dark hair. I feel two fingers slide through my wetness and his thumb strums my clit. My head falls back when he pushes his fingers inside me.
“Ahh,” I cry out.
“You’re so sexy,” he whispers against my lips.
My hands glide over the hard planes of his abs. His mouth covers mine and he kisses me hard. He pumps over and over and I’m going to combust if he keeps this up.
“Brant, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
He smirks. “What did I tell you about multiples?”
“Multiples are reserved for smutty romance novels and the movies.”
His fingers work a delicious friction making my body hum and tighten with intense longing. I try to keep my orgasm at bay, but everything bursts and an explosion of stars cascades down around me.
“I’m here to tell you that they exist.” His voice is husky.
Sweet Agony Page 11
