by D. L. Roan
“Fuck me!” No! He wasn’t going to let himself be yanked around by his dick. Not this time. Actually, any other time would be perfectly acceptable, but not with Breezy Youngblood. He really was depraved if he was horn-dogging after the likes of her.
He’d never forget her part in Charlotte’s death, even if he had gone too far when he’d lashed out at the girl that night in the hospital. Anger and guilt made for a muddy, bitter cocktail to swallow. The last thing he needed was to add his hungry libido to the mix.
Nope. He had to nip this entire thing in the bud so he could focus on Papa Joe and fixing his relationship with Connor. He’d spent far too much time away from home and he needed to make things right. Breezy Youngblood was the one distraction he did not need.
He’d spent the entire night rehearsing what he had to say, and damn if he wasn’t going to say it. As he was about to open his door to do just that, Breezy came bounding through the parking lot and slid into her car.
Carson shifted their dad’s pickup truck into gear and followed her out onto the road. This was better. He’d wait until they were out of town and then pull her over before she reached the ranch. Country roads meant fewer people. Fewer people meant less of a chance he’d be seen.
Minutes later they approached the stretch of road that still gave him chills every time he passed it. He could feel the first tingles race over his skin as the small cross that marked the spot where Charlotte had died came into view. To his surprise, Breezy’s car slowed to a stop along the shoulder. Carson fought the overwhelming urge to keep driving, but if it was anything, her stopping there was a sign that he was doing the right thing, for him and everyone else involved.
He slowed the truck and rolled onto the grass shoulder as she stepped out of her car. When he saw the bouquet of flowers in her hand, an unexpected fury rolled through him. Who the hell did she think she was? He pushed open the door and stalked toward her.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said with mild disappointment.
“What are you doing here, Breezy?”
“I came to—”
“Do you think putting a bunch of cheap flowers by a cross on the side of the road is going to make it all better?”
“What? No. I...” She shook her head and his eyes were drawn to her mouth. Something about the way her teeth bit into her bottom lip made his skin feel three sizes too small for his body. “I just wanted a private moment.” She glanced over her shoulder at the small white cross and Carson realized what she was doing. The very idea made his blood boil.
“I see. You thought that was put there for Ford.” The pain that dulled her eyes confirmed his suspicions. Shit. He was spouting off at the mouth again, but this was different. She was a grown woman now and if she thought for a single second that he’d forgotten what she and her brother had done, she wasn’t as smart as she wanted everyone to believe.
“Why don’t you go put those on Ford’s grave and leave anything that has to do with Charlotte the hell alone? Better yet,” he said, crowding her against the front fender of her car, “why don’t you leave Grassland altogether?”
There, he’d said it. Okay, so it hadn’t come out exactly like he’d planned, but it was done. From the moment he’d learned she was coming back, he knew he’d have to put a stop to it. He’d rehearsed his intent for days in his head.
Why, then, did saying it aloud make him feel like he’d just kicked a puppy? Maybe it had come out harsher than he’d intended, but, for a dozen other good reasons, she needed to go back to wherever it was she’d been hiding all these years.
“Excuse me?” Breezy sidestepped away from him and Carson let her go.
“You heard me,” he said, pinning her with a steely gaze instead, her feigned innocence stoking his temper back to full throttle. Despite what he thought was a credible attempt at intimidation, he watched with mild appreciation as her spine straightened and a fiery flame of false indignation swirled in her eyes.
“I’d be happy to put these on Ford’s grave,” she said, shoving the flowers in her hand between them. “If I knew where he was buried. And as far as leaving Grassland, the answer is no.”
“No? What do you mean, no?”
She marched through the grass and laid the daisies at the foot of the cross then stomped back to him. “I know what you think of me, what you think I did, but you’re wrong!”
“I saw you in the woods that day, Breezy. Do you expect me to believe that you didn’t run back and tell that psychotic brother of yours everything?”
“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t tell anyone anything, and he wasn’t psychotic.”
“Yeah, because taking a suicide drive into your ex-girlfriend at sixty miles an hour isn’t psychotic at all.”
She swallowed and then looked away, shaking her head in denial. “You didn’t know him.”
“I know he wanted Charlotte back. I know he couldn’t stand the idea of her dating a McLendon, much less two of us.”
“That was—no, forget it.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “You can keep blaming me if that somehow makes you feel better, but I lost just as much as you did that night.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with what happened.” Her spine straightened once more as her professional veneer fell back into place, but Carson heard the tremble in her voice as she spoke. He’d hit a nerve. “I don’t care what you think, but get this straight, Carson McLendon. I didn’t come back for you, or Con or even Ford. I came back to help your grandfather!”
“And exactly who do you think is paying for that help?” That took the wind out of her sails fast enough.
Her shoulders slumped on a defeated breath. Her lips trembled and she pressed them into a grim line that sent his gut into another nosedive. Fuck! The entire conversation had crashed and burned. He hadn’t meant to attack her again. He just wanted her to leave!
Did she honestly think she could show up nine years later and act like nothing had happened? Like she didn’t shoulder an ounce of blame? He didn’t care what lies she was telling herself and everyone else. He knew the truth.
The girl had followed them around for months after Charlotte broke up with Ford, at her brother’s bidding no doubt, telling him everything she could about them. The Grunions despised the McLendon’s way of life. Anything that wasn’t normal was an abomination to God and humanity and blah, blah, blah. The Youngbloods were no different.
Her brother couldn’t tolerate the fact that Charlotte had dumped him to date Carson and his twin. Charlotte had tried to downplay Ford’s harassment, of course, brushing off his obsessive number of phone calls and harassing visits to the library where she worked after school.
He’d seen Breezy that day in the woods, watching him and Connor making out with Charlotte. Sure as shit, she’d run straight back to Ford and told him every detail. He could only imagine what had gone on inside that sick fuck’s head when he found out, eventually deciding that if he couldn’t have her, no one would, especially not a McLendon.
If she’d kept her big mouth shut and her nose in her own business, none of it would have happened and he wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the road arguing with the stubborn woman.
“Fine,” Breezy sighed, giving her head a sobering shake. “I’ll do the job for free.”
“What?” He stepped out of her way as she blasted past him and stomped back to her car. “That solves nothing. Breezy, you can’t be here.”
“I am here,” she said, sliding into her car and pulling the door closed. “Deal with it.”
It was too much! Too hard! He’d spent nine years screwing everything up. This was his last chance to do something right. Coming back to Grassland, to the ranch, had already proved nearly impossible. Just being there took every ounce of energy he had. He couldn’t do it if she was there; a constant reminder of how screwed up he was and why!
“I have to be here for Papa Joe!” He railed
from outside the car door window. “I can’t do that with you here.”
Breezy started the car and rolled down the window. “Your discomfort is not my problem. I’m here because Joe asked me to be, and I’m not leaving until he asks me to leave,” she said, placed the car into drive and pulled away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Breezy gulped down breath after breath of the cool air that poured from the vents on the dash. Her fingers wrapped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip as she passed the McLendon ranch. She couldn’t go back there, not until she had a better handle on her emotions. Maybe not ever.
The nerve!
She’d known that coming back to Grassland was going to be hard. She’d expected a chance encounter with the Grunions and even Connor or Carson, but this? This was awful. How could she do her job knowing he still held such a grudge? And for free? “Oh God. What was I thinking?”
He had to know that she’d never have done what he was accusing her of, even for Ford. And he was so wrong about Ford. No one knew the hell her brother had gone through, not even her. It wasn’t until years later, after her pa was killed in a prison brawl, when she learned the truth of what happened that night.
The state sent her a box of her father’s personal things after he died. Tucked inside an empty packet of cigarettes was a letter Ford had written to Charlotte after they had broken up. She’d read and re-read that letter so many times over the last three years that she knew every word by heart. She’d never forget the plea in her brother’s words. Every answer to every question she’d ever had was in that letter: why her pa hated Ford, why Ford and Charlotte broke up, why he’d still called her months later.
The irony of it all was that she’d blamed herself, too. If she hadn’t made them late by sneaking into that concert to see Connor and Carson, if she hadn’t left the wash on the line, Pa wouldn’t have been so mad. Ford wouldn’t have fought him and he would never have left.
Those years of guilt and shame and regret had melted away when she found that letter. Her heart had broken anew for the brother she never knew, for the man-child who had worked himself to death to escape the merciless prison in which they both lived.
She wanted to tell Carson the truth, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to share something so personal about her brother. Ford had been clear in his letter. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know and she wouldn’t be the one to break the confidence he’d found in Charlotte.
No. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, shaking off the guilt that tried to creep its way back into her thoughts. She didn’t have to tell Carson anything, and she wasn’t going to let him or anyone else make her leave until she was ready to go. Joe McLendon was her patient. It wasn’t as if she’d never dealt with an overbearing family member before.
Breezy turned her car around in the next driveway she came to and headed back to Falcon Ridge. She owed the McLendons more than she could ever repay. Helping Joe make a full recovery was the only thing she had to give back and she wouldn’t give up because Carson didn’t want to see the truth.
As she pulled through the main entrance at Falcon Ridge, Breezy could see Carson’s truck parked in front of his parents’ house in the distance. She let out a relieved breath as she drove along the gravel drive to the elder McLendon’s home. At least she’d be able to get Joe through his exercises in peace.
Three hours later, Breezy left Joe’s room feeling excited and hopeful. Joe had tackled his exercises with enthusiasm and even managed to have a little fun. She’d had to order Nate and Jake from the room when they began playing keep away with the physio ball, breaking one of Hazel’s angel figurines in the process, but overall it was a great session. She was riding high on gratification when she stepped into the kitchen to speak to Hazel about Joe’s progress.
She stopped short when she saw Carson sitting at the same table he’d occupied the day before. He caught her gaze, but looked away when Connor came out of the pantry holding a jar of peanut butter.
“Hey, Breezy girl. You ready for our lunch date?”
Date? “I...” she stammered, casting another nervous glance at Carson to find his brows scrunched into an angry scowl. “You were serious?” she asked as Connor slapped the peanut butter onto a slice of bread.
“Of course!” He chuckled, stabbing the peanut butter-covered knife into a jar of grape jelly. “Give me a minute to go up and say hi to Papa Joe before we leave. Oh,” he wiped the extra jelly off the knife with his finger and popped it into his mouth. “Do you like peanut butter and jelly? You don’t have a nut allergy or anything, do you?”
She thought of a few answers she could give to that loaded question, but ultimately shook her head. Should she go with Connor? Based on the obvious picnic he was packing, they wouldn’t be going out in public, something she could appreciate, given that she would probably embarrass them both by doing something spectacularly fan-girlish.
She glanced at Carson again and saw the dare in his stare. He obviously didn’t approve, so of course she had to accept. “I need to speak with Hazel before we go, but PB&J is perfect.”
“Sorry I’m late, honey,” Hazel said as she whirled into the kitchen carrying two frozen chickens. “I had to run out to the deep freezer and get tomorrow night’s dinner to unthawin’.”
“I’ll be right back and then we’ll head out,” Connor said, placing the large paper bag on the counter before he left the kitchen to see Joe.
“How did it go?” Hazel asked, placing the poultry in the sink. “He didn’t give you any lip, did he?”
“Absolutely not,” Breezy assured her. “He is the perfect patient.”
Hazel laughed. “After fifty years of colds and flus and broken bones, forgive me if I disagree with you on that one,” she said. “He’s just showin’ off for you right now. You wait and see.”
“Well, he worked hard today. Don’t be surprised if he eats an extra helping at dinner.” Breezy went on to tell Hazel about his new exercise regimen and counted off the number of improvements she was already observing in his mobility.
“Oh, Breezy,” Hazel said as she crossed the room and wrapped her in a sweet hug. “I am so glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost my Josiah.”
Carson cleared his throat. Breezy glanced over Hazel’s shoulder to see the scowl on his face deepen, spurring her resolve to mention the other issue she’d wanted to discuss with Hazel.
She took a steadying breath when Hazel finally released her. “I also wanted to tell you that I’ve thought about the offer you and Joe made yesterday, about letting me stay here instead of the B&B.”
The sound of chair legs scraping against the hardwood floor was followed by a hard, muted thud as Carson’s seat tipped back and crashed to the floor with him in it. Laughter bubbled up and out of her mouth before she could contain it.
Hazel jumped at the loud noise and turned to see what all the commotion was about. “Carson, where in the world are your manners? I told you not to lean back in those chairs,” she scolded him as he peeled himself from the floor and righted the chair. “Besides possibly breaking your neck, it’s rude.”
She turned back to Breezy and apologized. “Now, where were we? Oh yes.” Her genuine smile returned and beamed as bright as the fresh cut sunflowers in the vase in the center of the dining table. “I hoped you’d come to your senses about staying.” Pleased with Breezy’s decision, she untied her apron and laid it on the counter. “I’ll go call Ethel McEwin and square things up with your deposit and by the time you go get your things and get back here, I’ll have your room all ready and waitin’ for you.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble,” Breezy pleaded, still unable to contain her smile. Seeing Carson land on his ass had been priceless.
“Oh hush,” Hazel scolded her. “It’s been an eternity since we’ve had any company to fuss over.” A second later she was gone, and Breezy was left to face Carson’s obvious displeasure. She didn’t have to wait long.
/> She took a step back as he crowded her against the counter. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked with a growl.
“I...” She cleared the emotion from her throat and tried again, choosing her words carefully. “Since I’m no longer getting paid, I thought it prudent to accept their offer.”
She held his gaze as the heat from his body rolled over hers, fighting not to get lost in the scent of his spicy cologne or the color of his swirling green eyes as they glared down at her. She couldn’t help it. Her reaction to his proximity was as natural and uncontrollable as a mid-summer thunderstorm. Always had been.
Not one part of his body touched hers, but she could feel every ounce of beautiful maleness he possessed envelope her senses like a lusty cloud. She couldn’t stop the whimper that tumbled out when he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on her mouth. Was he going to kiss her?
Her heart thundered in her chest. He was so close she could feel his rapid breaths fan across her lips. She watched the warring emotions in his eyes. When he inched closer, her gaze darted to his lips to see his tongue peek out and trace his bottom lip. Her chest burned with the breath she held in anticipation.
Carson jerked away from her, threading his hands through his hair as he began to pace. “Dammit, Breezy! This is why you can’t be here.”
The breath she’d been holding came rushing from her lungs.
He turned and strode back to her, a pained, pleading look on his face. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Everything came out wrong and it was a total dick move.”
“So, you don’t blame me for what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Carson said with a clipped tone. “We were kids.”
Her head snapped back in disbelief. Of course it mattered.
“I get that you’ve done well for yourself. I mean, damn, look at you.” His heated gaze raked over her from head to toe and back again, stopping at her breasts, his tongue darting out to lick his lips again.
