by Score, Lucy
“No. They’re plotting,” Carter said, grabbing her foot and easing it into a boot. He shot another glance at the trio.
Summer grabbed him by the chin and turned his head to her. His beard tickled her palms. “Is this something you can explain to me without glaring at them?”
Carter reached for her other leg and Summer tried to ignore the delicious tingle that shot up from her toes at his touch.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’ve just never been in their sights before. I heard rumors, but I never thought it would happen to me.”
“Carter, you’re starting to scare me.”
“Don’t look at them!” he barked. He stuffed her foot into the other boot.
“Are they casting some kind of spell on you?”
He shook his head. “Worse. They’re matchmaking.”
“Who —?” Summer looked down at Carter, kneeling before her, his hands holding her calves. “Oh.”
“Shit,” Carter muttered, abruptly standing up.
Summer rose with him. “What do a bank president, a boot seller, and a garden center guy have to do with matchmaking?”
“They’re part of the Beautification Committee,” he said, as if that explained it all.
Summer waited. “And?”
Carter swiped a hand over his face. “And it’s basically a cover for a not-so-secret society of busybodies. And those three are some of the busiest. Their favorite thing to do is pick out poor singles and pair them up. They claim it makes the town a better place to live if everyone is ‘in love.’” Carter threw up the air quotes and Summer bit her lip trying not to laugh.
“Exactly how many couples have they tortured into love?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Something like twenty or so.” He turned so that he stood between her and their prying eyes.
“And they all fall in love?”
“They claim they have a one hundred percent success rate. Damn it. Fred and Phil just got married last month, so they’re probably looking for their next happily ever after.”
“Maybe they’re talking about someone else?” They peeked at the front of the store and Willa, Rainbow, and Gordon all turned away. Gordon started whistling. “Or not.”
“Let’s just get out of here. How do the boots feel?”
Summer looked down at her feet. “Actually they feel amazing. They’re a perfect fit.”
“Of course they are,” Carter grumbled.
She turned sideways and looked in the long mirror. “They look good, too.”
“Great. Awesome. Let’s go.”
Carter grabbed the empty boot box and threw her moccasins inside. He grabbed her bag off of the chair and dragged her to the front of the store.
“I can’t believe you’re so flustered,” Summer laughed.
“Flustered? I’m not flustered.” Carter took offense.
“Well, it was nice seeing you, Willa,” Rainbow said in a voice that was a little too loud.
“Yeah, great to see you. You too, Carter and Summer,” Gordon waved as they hustled out the door.
“How did he know my name?” Summer whispered, waving after him.
Carter dumped the box on the counter. He tossed a credit card on the counter. “We’ll take them.”
“There’s also a pair of socks,” Summer told Willa as she grabbed for her purse. “You can’t buy me these,” she said to Carter.
“I can buy boots for an acquaintance. Because that is what we are. Acquaintances.”
Willa smiled sweetly as she rang up the sale. “It looks like you found your ‘solemate.’ Which socks did you decide on?”
“The turquoise ones with the uhh, little umm …” Carter stalled.
“The ones with the cute pink hearts on them? Aren’t you sweet?” She swiped Carter’s credit card. “And are you staying in town while you’re here, Summer?”
“Uh, no. I’m staying on the farm.”
“With Carter? How lovely! I have a feeling you’re going to have a wonderful time.” Willa winked.
Carter managed to calm himself down by the time they turned onto Main Street. And Summer relaxed enough to enjoy a look at the town square, a pretty green space with a gazebo and picnic tables.
“One Love Park,” Summer read aloud from the park’s sign. She raised an eyebrow.
“Honey,” Carter shook his head. “We’re just getting started.”
He pulled into an empty parking space in front of Peace of Pizza.
“Peace of Pizza and One Love Park? Promise me we’re going to take a walk after dinner,” Summer said, her gaze glued to the hodge-podge downtown.
“Your feet are covered in blisters and you want to take a walk?”
“I think I’ve proven that I’m willing to suffer for article research,” Summer sniffed.
Carter shook his head in resignation. “If you save room for dessert, we’ll walk down to Karma Kustard for gelato after dinner.”
Summer slid out of the truck. “One thousand words isn’t going to scratch the surface on this,” she whispered to herself.
Peace of Pizza was all that she hoped it would be. They were seated in a cozy booth in the corner under a large poster of Jimi Hendrix. A lava lamp on the table bubbled lazy, orange blobs.
Summer glanced around them. “Why did they put us back here away from everyone else?”
They had walked past several tables full of diners, including a gentleman Carter had addressed as “Big Ben.” But it was just the two of them in the cozy little corner.
The waitress delivered a pair of ice waters and a candle just as the lights in the restaurant dimmed.
“God damn Beautification Committee,” Carter muttered under his breath. Summer bit her lip.
“Want to hear the vegetarian specials, Carter?” The waitress asked pulling a pen out of her apron that was dusty with flour.
“Sure, Maizie. What have you got?”
She rattled off a surprisingly large number of meat-free specials. “And Summer, if you’re a meatatarian, we’ve got a bunch of other options,” she said with a wink.
Summer blinked. Did everyone in town know her name? “Um, thanks, Maizie.”
“Can you handle a cheese pizza and a garden salad?” Carter asked her.
“Perfect.”
They handed over the menus to Maizie and tried to ignore the ambiance. Summer’s cellphone alarm signaled, breaking the awkward silence, and she dug her pills out of her bag.
“Thought you didn’t like taking drugs?” Carter asked, eyeing the tablets and capsules in her hand.
“They’re mostly vitamins. Everyone’s got to stay health conscious these days,” she said, washing the handful down with a big gulp of water.
Carter stared pointedly at Big Ben, who was hoovering his way through a stromboli with a side of gravy fries three tables away. “Not all of us,” he whispered.
Summer laughed. “So I’m curious about the vegetarian thing. Why did you give up meat? Was it a health choice?”
“Back to the interview already? I thought I could buy you off with a pair of shoes.”
“Nice try, Mr. Pierce.”
“Guess we’ll have to try the dress and gold bar store next.”
“Back to why you became vegetarian.” Summer wouldn’t let him push her off center.
“It happened after I came back. I was home for a few months when Joey brings these two pigs to me. They fell off the back of a truck on the highway headed for who knows where. I had empty pastures.”
“So you rescued them.”
He shrugged. “I had the doc come out and look them over. We were standing there talking and they just started running around the paddock. Dancing, playing. I swear I saw Dixie smile. I never touched bacon again. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It just happened.”
Summer propped her chin on her hand. “God, Carter. How is it that you’re not married yet?”
Carter’s eyes widened over his glass. “What?”
“Seriously. You are stunningly gorge
ous,” Summer said, laying a hand over his. “You have impeccable taste when it comes to home decor, and the Dixie story just exploded my heart. How are you not married with a dozen babies by now?”
He raised a dark eyebrow and his eyes searched hers. “Are you asking for the article?” He turned her palm up, but continued to hold it toying with her fingers.
“Just me,” Summer said, tilting her head. “For now,” she qualified.
“I wasn’t in a great place when I came home. Relationships were low on my list of priorities.”
“Now?”
“Now, I’m in a better place. But the farm is the love of my life right now. You?”
“Why aren’t I married?”
He tapped her ring finger, sending a warm shiver through her.
“I don’t have much time for relationships right now.”
“You ever plan on making the time?” Carter’s thumb skimmed the skin of her palm.
“Someday. You?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Someday.” He was staring at her, holding her in his steely gaze.
Summer sighed and withdrew her hand. What was she doing? He was the subject of an article — a smart, sexy, hot one, at that — not a potential date.
“Comin’ at ya, Pierce.”
A woman with silvery dreadlocks slid a steaming pizza onto the table. Summer leaned back against the booth. “Tray’s hot. Watch out.”
“Thanks, Bobby.”
She looked pointedly at Summer until Carter caught her drift. “Bobby, this is Summer. She’s writing an article about the farm.”
“Nice to meet you, Summer,” Bobby said, offering a strong hand.
“It’s great to meet you, Bobby. This smells amazing.”
“That’s the fresh herbs in the sauce from some hippie’s organic farm.” She clapped Carter on the shoulder. “Speaking of, don’t be late with Thursday’s delivery. We’re already running low.”
“If you need something early, let me know. I can have Beckett bring it out.”
“Appreciate that,” Bobby nodded. She turned her attention back to Summer. “A writer, huh?”
“Editor actually,” Summer said, sliding a slice onto her plate.
“Too bad. Your mom would be over the moon if this was a date,” she winked at Carter. “How long are you in town, Summer?”
“A week.”
Bobby harrumphed. “A week is plenty of time for romance. Speaking of, it’s nice to see your mom out and about with her new beau. I ran into them at the winery in Coopersville last weekend when I was visiting my sister. Anyway, I’ll grab your salads.”
Summer caught the fierce look that Bobby missed on Carter’s face. “So, I take it that was news to you?”
“God damn Blue Moon busybodies.” Carter frowned fiercely. He yanked his phone out of his jeans and fired off a text.
Summer dropped a slice onto his plate. She had a feeling the Pierce family’s peace and quiet was in for a shake-up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Summer 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.
They 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.
