by Score, Lucy
She hip checked him. “I was a great farm hand!”
“You were okay,” he winked.
“You know what? Let’s pretend that we’re regular New Yorkers with a Saturday all to ourselves.”
“And what would these regular New Yorkers do?”
A slow grin spread across her face. “I have a few ideas.”
She took him to a Yankees game.
But not before they spent the afternoon enjoying the air conditioning of the American Museum of Natural History, where Summer let Carter the farmer educate her on the biodiversity of the New York State environment.
They took in a matinee at a second run theater that served beer and baked goods out of its concession stand. And then they carved out time for an early dinner at a crowded Irish pub around the corner before hailing a cab to their surprise destination.
Yankee Stadium.
Carter kicked back in his legendary blue seat with a prime view of home plate. A seven-dollar beer tucked into the cup holder.
“Very good surprise, Summer.” He riffed the bill of the baseball cap he bought her.
“I had a feeling you’d enjoy this traditional New York pastime.” She cheered with the rest of the crowd at the crack of the bat.
“I used to come here with my father and brothers,” he told her, eyes scanning the field.
“Really?” She settled back in her seat and sampled the wine that came in a little plastic bottle.
“It was Mom’s Father’s Day gift to Dad every year. Pierce Men Day, she’d call it. I realize now that it was actually a gift to herself getting us all out of the house at the same time.”
“Can’t really blame her.”
“We had some good times on those trips,” Carter said. “Once, Jax got lost on his way back from the bathroom. We spent the entire fifth looking for him. Turns out he was entertaining some big wig with a box and we got to watch the rest of the game from up there.” Carter pointed at the glass walled suites.
“Do you miss him? Your father I mean.”
“Every damn day.” Carter sipped his beer. “I barely made it home in time to say good-bye.”
“Were you deployed?” Summer asked.
“Yeah. The Red Cross got Beckett’s message to me.” This is it. Come home. “I was on the next flight home. They got me as far as Albany. Jax picked me up and drove me to the hospital going ninety in the car the whole way. That’s when it started to sink in.”
Summer linked her fingers with his and he squeezed.
“He looked so … small in that hospital bed.” He sighed. “Nothing like the John Pierce who could take all three of us when we ganged up on him in the pond.”
“He must have been so proud of you, of all of you. The soldier, the lawyer, the writer.”
“I didn’t get to spend much time with him in his last years.” A regret he still carried. “Neither did Jax. But Beckett was there for it all. He kept it all together until I could come home.”
“And now you’ve all come home again,” Summer reminded him.
Jax’s brewery, Carter remembered. It was an idea that he’d put on the back burner. But it warranted careful consideration.
“I keep dumping all of my sad stories on you,” he said, changing the subject.
“I like understanding how you turned into the fascinating, sexy man before me.”
She said it without a hint of irony and he bit back a sigh.
Summer was hiding something. Something big enough to scare her. But he would wait. And when Summer was ready, she would share. For now he would enjoy a warm summer night with the beautiful woman who held his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The fireworks lit up the East River in a showy shower of color and flash.
Another holiday, another holiday party. Summer had planned to take two days of vacation time and spend them with Carter in Blue Moon. The town’s Fourth Festival was apparently legendary.
However, when Katherine personally requested her attendance at the rooftop party hosted by a major department store, plans had to be changed. Especially when she mentioned that some senior staff members were starting to take notice of Summer’s work. Things were falling into place, and in a few short years she could follow her own dreams.
Carter was understanding.
But understanding didn’t make up for the distance. In fact, it made her miss him more. The summer was high season on the farm, which meant Carter’s free time was nonexistent. And combined with her renewed efforts to get back on top at work, they hadn’t seen each other since his weekend in New York.
The phone calls and video chats weren’t cutting it anymore. She missed him constantly and was surprised at the discontent she felt. This is what she had spent years working for, wasn’t it? And yet here she was, feeling empty and alone on a spectacular terrace while the rich and beautiful partied poolside.
It was just annoyance at having to change her plans, she told herself.
Thankfully, the photo shoot was next week. She would get to spend two days on the farm watching Niko get assaulted by goats, determining what, if any, progress Jax had made with Joey, and spending as much time as possible with Carter’s hands on her.
She could even extend it to three days if she planned carefully and used some vacation time, she mused.
Her phone signaled an incoming call and her heart flip-flopped.
“Hi, handsome,” Summer answered, her voice giving away her smile.
“Happy Fourth of July, beautiful.” Carter’s voice sent a rush of heat flooding through her.
She heard the booms and cracks on his end along with the oohs and ahs of the crowd.
“Where are you on this fine summer evening?” she asked.
“I’m in the square. Along with the entire population of the town,” he grumbled. “Mom’s idea, of course. It looks like a 1960s sit-in protest.”
Summer laughed. “I can only imagine.”
“I’d rather imagine you. What are you wearing?”
Summer laughed, glancing down at her festive red cotton minidress. “Stars and stripes underwear and patent leather red heels.”
He hummed at that. “Great minds think alike. I’m wearing the matching loincloth.”
“I’m really liking this mental picture.” Summer snagged a bottle of water off the tray of a passing waiter.
“I wish you were here, Summer.” His voice was low, sweet. She felt it like a caress and closed her eyes. For a second it was just them.
“I do, too.” She meant it. “I’ll be there in a week,” she reminded him.
“That feels like a year from now.”
She laughed, because it did for her, too. “I think we’ll survive. I love you, Carter.”
“I love you, honey. Here comes the finale.”
She heard the booms through the phone. They watched together as town and city lit up in a blaze of festive color and sound.
That night, as the fourth ticked into the fifth, Summer lay awake thinking. When had a week become a lifetime? When had she ever let her life revolve around a man? Not since her father, she thought with regret.
And look how that had turned out.
The tiny, mean voice in her head put in its two cents.
Summer could still feel the cut of his disappointment. Still see the anger and sadness in her father’s eyes. He had thought she was letting him down and wouldn’t even listen to her as she tried to explain that she was trying to make him proud.
She was pandering to fools just like the rest of the fashion industry, he had told her. Didn’t she want to do something important? Something meaningful? Did she only care about pretty dresses and celebrity gossip?
The words still had the power to cut her all these years later.
Summer rolled over to her side and switched her thoughts to Carter. Was there any way this relationship could actually work? she wondered. Moving to Blue Moon wasn’t an option for her. She had a plan and was within striking distance of the next step. She
couldn’t just give it all up for … what? What would she do on a farm in the middle of nowhere?
Could she move closer? Make it less of a long distance relationship? She thought of the train in Rhinecliff and shook her head against the pillow. Moving out of Manhattan would hurt her work in more ways than one. How long could they continue this way? Stolen moments, all-to-brief weekends. Constantly setting aside work to make time for each other.
What would suffer more? Their work or their relationship?
She took a sip of water from the glass she kept on her nightstand.
None of this could be decided tonight.
In September, she would have real answers, and with those answers she would be able to build a future that suited her. But was it fair to Carter to keep going without answers? Was it fair to tie him to her when things could change forever in a few weeks?
It was just after one in the morning when Summer’s headlights hit the farmhouse.
The Saturday night fundraiser had run long thanks in part to the lengthy speeches during the award portion of the evening. Summer felt a little guilty for bolting before dessert had been served, but she had paid her dues by logging in to a Saturday morning production video chat with several of the magazine’s go-to freelancers.
What she did with her very late Saturday night, or rather Sunday morning, was her business.
It was a good pep talk, but she still couldn’t shake the guilt. It seemed to be following her everywhere these days.
She parked in front of the house and carried her bag up the front steps. The front of the house was dark, except for the soft glow of the porch light. The front door was open as always.
Summer left her bag at the foot of the stairs and followed the light that came from the kitchen.
She found Jax in gym shorts and nothing else working on his laptop in the great room. The TV was muted to accommodate the woman grumbling over the speaker of Jax’s phone.
“Look, I know it’s trite. I know it’s been done. But the formula works and we gotta figure out how to make this unlikeable hero likeable enough that the audience doesn’t end up cheering for the bad guy,” the disembodied voice explained.
“Uh-huh.” Jax pulled up ESPN on his laptop. “How about you walk me through some of your ideas, Penny?”
Summer cleared her throat softly.
Jax rolled his head on the back of the sofa and grinned when he saw her.
Penny droned on about an opening sequence.
“Carter?” Summer mouthed.
Jax pointed upstairs and laid the side of his face on his hands miming sleep.
She winked and waved.
Jax shook his head and tapped his cheek until Summer moved in to give him a kiss. He ruffled her hair. “Welcome back,” he whispered.
Summer headed back down the hall and grabbed her bag. Upstairs, she found Carter’s bedroom door cracked open. She stepped inside and put her bag down, admiring the view.
He was sprawled on his back. The sheet bunched low on his waist, baring the glory of his torso to her.
All doubts and concerns that had hammered in her head for days now disappeared and were replaced with a sharp, desperate need.
As Summer stripped off her clothes, Carter’s eyes flickered open. Opening his arms, he lifted the sheet and welcomed her to his bed.
Nothing else mattered.
Sunday morning dawned bright and despite the lack of sleep the night before, the residents of Carter’s bed woke with enthusiasm.
Summer felt a twinkle of pride when Carter pulled on the t-shirt she gave him. She dressed quickly in shorts and a pretty tank and followed Carter downstairs.
In the kitchen, Jax arched an eyebrow watching Summer struggle to tame her blonde tresses with a bun and Carter reach for the coffee pot with a self-satisfied grin. “You two look … rested,” he commented.
“And you look like you got a nice, quiet night’s sleep. Alone,” Carter smirked.
“Dick.”
“Asshole.”
“Boys,” Summer warned. She gave up on her hair and pulled on her Yankees cap.
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison.
“I can’t begin to imagine the hell that you three put your poor mother through over the years.”
“Phoebe Pierce isn’t the innocent little angel you think she is. She tortured us in ways only a mother can,” Jax said through a mouthful of cereal.
“Piano lessons,” Carter supplied.
“Carpool sing-alongs on the way to school,” Jax added.
“That time she got pissed at us and hid the TV remotes for a week.”
“The Great Vegan Experiment of 1995.”
“Trust us,” Carter said, riffing the bill of her cap. “We learned torture from the best.”
Jax dumped his empty bowl in the sink. “Give me five minutes to change and I’ll be ready to go.”
He hustled upstairs, and Summer and Carter ate a quick breakfast. Jax came back down wearing his Pierce Acres t-shirt.
“Aren’t you two cute in your matching shirts?” Summer cooed.
“It’s our farmers market uniform,” Carter grinned. “And technically, you’re to blame for it.”
“Yeah, you know, I think Summer could use a little branding,” Jax said, scratching his chin.
“Like the hot iron, flesh-searing branding?” Summer gulped.
“Well, we could go in that direction, or you could just wear this,” Carter said, tossing her a green t-shirt.
“You got me a shirt!”
“Welcome to the family,” Carter said, kissing the top of her head. “Go change.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The entire town square with its wide brick sidewalks and leafy shade trees had been transformed into an open-air market. It wasn’t quite eight yet, and already it was bustling. Vendors, including the Pierce brothers, erected pop-up canopies over folding tables that were soon covered in a variety of wares.
Summer helped unload and then stepped in to take over the setup when she realized they intended to just dump produce in sloppy piles.
“Trust me on this,” she said, wielding a summer squash at Carter. “Presentation is important.”
She organized the cucumbers, squash, and ears of corn into a cascading rainbow of color on the table before moving on to neatly stack beefsteak tomatoes in an upended crate on the ground. The green beans she lay in precise horizontal rows, edging the length of the table.
“Some galvanized tubs and crates would be better,” she muttered to herself. “And little handwritten chalkboard signs for the names and prices.”
“Huh,” Carter grunted.
She turned from her work. Carter and Jax were standing, arms crossed, studying her display.
“That looks a lot better than what we usually do,” Jax said.
“Your stand is going to be photographed today. It should look its best,” she lectured, opening one of the paper sacks and weighting it with a beefy cucumber so that the Pierce Acres stamped logo was visible.
Summer stood back to admire her work and gave it a nod.
“Okay. Now what?”
“Now we wait for the crowds to descend demanding high quality vegetables,” Carter said, rubbing her shoulders.
“Well, look who decided to step up their game.” Beckett strolled over, hands in the pockets of his shorts. “I can tell neither one of you style-less idiots did this.” He swept Summer into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.
“Summer classed up our stand.” Jax picked up three tomatoes and started to juggle.
“It’s more art directing,” she laughed, as Beckett put her on her feet again.
“If you can hang out here for a few minutes before going all Mr. Mayor on us, I’ll take Summer on the grand tour of the market,” Carter said to his brother.
Summer checked the time. They still had an hour before Niko was due to meet them.
“Sure, but it’ll cost you. Bring me back a bag of those mini donuts,” Beckett said
, joining Jax behind the table.
Carter led Summer away by the hand as Beckett challenged Jax to juggle cucumbers.
“Are you sure it’s safe to be seen together here?” Summer said, tugging at their joined hands.
Carter brought her hand to his lips. “I realized that as long as the BC thinks they won, they leave me alone.”
“Have they won?” she laughed, as they walked past a stand selling reusable shopping totes.
“They don’t consider it an official win until there’s a marriage license. So we’ve got some time before they crank up the pressure again.”
Carter was just kidding, Summer told herself as her stomach pitched with guilt. They had known each other for a month. It was too soon in a summer fling to start talking futures.
“Where are these donuts Beckett asked for?” Summer asked as they looped past a handmade soap stand run by a woman wearing a turquoise jumpsuit and round Lennon sunglasses.
“Right next to Willa’s vegan flip-flop stand,” Carter said, nudging her forward.
“Vegan flip-flops?”
They returned to the booth with little bags of fresh donuts for everyone and two pairs of Willa’s flip-flops for Summer. Willa had predicted a long and loving relationship. Summer still wasn’t sure that she had been talking about shoes.
Phoebe had arrived and paused in her booth supervision to greet Summer with a big, heartfelt hug.
“So happy to see you again, Summer,” she said, giving her one last squeeze. “Are you going to help me whip these boys into produce-selling machines?”
Summer stepped over a smashed tomato, the victim of a juggling mishap, she presumed.
“Nikolai will be here soon. I think I’ll just watch you all work your market magic.”
“Yeah. Mom’s not going to let that happen.” Carter said, digging out the cashbox. “It’s all hands on deck here.”
And it was. Within minutes the entire square was bustling with business. It seemed everyone in Blue Moon was either a vendor or a shopper. It was friendly, colorful chaos. She caught snippets of conversations about summer vacations, the closing of the local yoga studio. Apparently Maris was closing up shop and moving to Santa Fe.
Everyone knew everyone, and that included the Pierces. They answered questions about the farm and asked after everyone’s Uncle Bill or family dog. Jax caught up with old friends from high school and their parents, spouses, and children.
