Carter (Bourbon & Blood Book 3)

by Seraphina Donavan

  She’d told her mother to nip that in the bud and she’d really thought that maybe they’d reached an understanding that day. Maybe not, she thought.

  “Good afternoon, Josie,” he said smiling. It wasn’t a bad smile. He wasn’t a bad looking man. But he left her completely cold.

  “Good afternoon, Jordan. Is there something I can help you with?” Keep it professional and get him gone, she thought.

  His smile widened. “My aunt and your mother have been trying to do a little matchmaking…or didn’t you know about that?”

  No keeping it professional. She’d give him points for at least getting to the point. “I was aware of that, Jordan, but I’m sorry that’s just not something I really want to pursue right now.”

  “Josie, I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together… but I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. You’ve accomplished so much.”

  No, she hadn’t. She was a passable piano player because she’d been forced to practice until she just wanted to vomit. She’d gotten a college degree and had graduated with a decent GPA mostly because it was a subject that she loved and that came easy to her. Nothing about that was grand or especially noteworthy. Unless he was implying something else, and if he was, it was going to get ugly.

  “Given the very rough start you had in life, it’s really amazing to see just how far you’ve come.”

  He was going there, Josie realized. He was actually going there.

  “Jordan, I don’t think—.”

  “Josie, I have every intention of completing seminary by the end of next year… and I’m not looking to date women who don’t understand what it means to be a Godly wife.”

  And he clearly didn’t intend to date women who ever wanted to speak because he didn’t intend to shut up.

  “I’d really like to see if we’re compatible, Josie… I’d like to take you to dinner this weekend so we can start to get to know one another.”

  Start to get to know one another. He had yet to even ask if she wanted to get to know him. “I am very flattered by your offer, Jordan, but I explained this to my mother and she should have passed it along to Myra. I have no interest in being a minister’s wife. I do know exactly how much work goes into that and how hard it can be to meet those standards. I don’t want that kind of life, Jordan.”

  His smile never wavered. “You’re very young, Josie, and I know that temptation can be so strong, but if you pray about it and ask for God to speak to you and show you the way—.”

  “I don’t need God to show me the way on this one,” she said sharply. “I don’t want to date you… the truth is, I’m s already seeing someone.”

  She didn’t know who was more stunned by the admission, her or Jordan. It hadn’t been her intention to say anything about Carter. But it felt good.

  His smile wavered. For the first time since he walked in the building, Jordan Simmons looked like maybe he wasn’t going to make the sale. “I didn’t realize. You’ve never brought him to church with you.”

  There was an accusation buried in that. But Josie elected to ignore it. “He doesn’t attend church.”

  Jordan drew back like she’d told him she was contagious. “I heard the rumors but I dismissed them. You can’t possibly be seeing Carter Hayes.”

  “It’s none of your business who I’m seeing, Jordan,” she said pointedly. His tone, his posture, and the dismissive way he’d said Carter’s name, as if he were a non-person, just rubbed her the wrong way. “I think you should go. This conversation is over.”

  Jordan’s entire demeanor changed. His face softened, his expression taking on a hint of contrition and even tenderness, which was just bizarre. When he grabbed her hand, holding it so tightly she couldn’t pull away without hurting herself, he said, “Josie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Let me make it up to you. At the very least, I can take you to lunch.”

  She shook her head, “That isn’t necessary. Please let me go.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, an old fashioned and, coming from him, frankly creepy gesture that made her skin crawl. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said.

  Josie watched him turn and walk away wondering what the hell that had been about. But when she turned, she realized exactly what he’d been doing. Carter had come in through the library’s side entrance and was standing just far enough away to have only seen their exchange and not heard it.

  Walking toward him, Josie could see the banked fury in his expression.

  “Carter, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong,” she said.

  “No. I’m not… Isn’t that the kind of guy you want, Josie? Someone that doesn’t embarrass you? That doesn’t reflect poorly on your raising?” His voice was low, but there was no disguising just how mad he was.

  “Jordan came here to ask me on a date, but I turned him down,” she stated. “I don’t want him.”

  Carter shook his head. “Wanting isn’t enough, Josie.”

  He turned to leave and Josie felt panic clawing at her. “Carter, don’t walk out on me… not like this.”

  “Then walk out with me,” he said. “Right now.”

  She couldn’t. If she left the library she’d lose her job. Giving up her independence and moving home with her parents wasn’t an option. “I can’t do that. Carter—.”

  “Forget it, Josie.”

  He left, the door slamming behind him, and it didn’t feel like just for the moment. It was big and ugly and felt like a hard goodbye.

  “I’m not ready,” she said in a whisper. She wasn’t ready to go completely public with their relationship but she wasn’t ready for it to end either. “Dammit.”

  13

  The truck’s powerful engine rumbled as Clayton Darcy extricated himself from the backseat. He was drunk off his ass and they’d probably all hear it about tomorrow from Mia and Annalee, Carter thought. If anyone had told him that he’d be out drinking with a Darcy, much less with the rest of the Hayes clan with him, he’d have called them a damn liar.

  But his mind wasn’t really on Clayton or even on the game they’d just watched while consuming excessive amounts of beer and more than their fair share of shots. It was her. She was in his fucking head, mixing it all up and making him crazy. It had been like that from day one and he was tired of it. He knew he’d been an ass the other day at the library. He’d been jealous and mean, jumping to conclusions.

  He’d walked out, too and that wasn’t something she’d forgive easily. That was evidenced by the fact that she hadn’t called him, texted or tried to reach out to him in any way. They were both pouting like overgrown children.

  He glanced over toward her house. It was one of the smaller homes in the subdivision where Clayton Darcy lived. It had been hell sneaking around in that neighborhood and trying not to be seen, but again, that had been her choice. She was the one who wanted to hide, who wanted to pretend like they were nothing to each other.

  The light was on upstairs in her bedroom. Was she in bed reading one of the smutty novels she liked? Or was she watching some sappy TV show while eating ice cream? He knew her habits, he knew so much about her, and yet in public, they’d never shared more than a few words.

  Clayton stumbled up the driveway and managed to get himself in the house. Emmitt, the only one of them still sober, shifted the truck into drive. It surged forward but had gone no more than fifty feet before Carter yelled out. “Stop the truck!”

  “You puke in here and I’m gonna kick your ass!” Emmitt shouted.

  “Just let me out, dammit!” Carter replied.

  Bennett shifted forward in his seat and Carter moved past him through the open door. He crossed the road and marched toward her front door. He was done with hiding. She wanted him to be some big secret, something on the side while she played the good girl in front of the whole town. He was done with that shit.

  Raising his fist, he pounded on the door. “Josie! I know you’re in there!”

  In the truck, Bennet
t looked at Emmitt, “Did you know about this?”

  “Ain’t that Josie Marcum’s house?” Emmitt shot back. “What the hell would she be doing with Carter?”

  Bennet raised his eyebrow. “What do all women do with Carter?”

  “True enough… but Josie Marcum? Hell.”

  They watched him walking up to her door. Bennett asked, “Should we wait for him?”

  “Hell no!” Emmitt said. “I’m not sitting outside waiting for his ass while he gets laid!”

  “We don’t know that he’s getting laid!” Bennett protested.

  Emmitt made a noise of complete derision. “It’s Carter and she’s female. Hell, she’ll probably greet him pussy first.”

  “Jesus, you’re crude!” Bennett said with a shake of his head.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not in love so I don’t have to pretty it all up,” Emmitt said and eased the truck into drive. “She can drive his ass home when she’s done with him.”

  On the porch, Carter was preparing to bang on the door again, when the porch light suddenly flicked on. The door opened a crack and he could see Josie peering out at him.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed at him.

  “Open the damn door and let me in!” he barked.

  “I will not!”

  “If you don’t,” he replied, “I will stand out here making so damn much noise one of your uptight neighbors will call the cops. It’ll be all over town by morning, Josie, that I got arrested on your doorstep!”

  Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Carter smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly expression. There was none of his usual charm in it. Instead it was mean and even a little vicious. “You ought to know better than anybody that there’s not a lot I won’t do. Now open the damn door!”

  The door closed and he heard the lock click and the chain slide free. When she opened it and stepped back, he didn’t hesitate, but just barged in, slamming the door behind him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea what people will say?”

  “The truth?” he asked. “That I’ve been sneaking over here and fucking you for over a month? That I make you scream and beg and say the kind of words that would have everybody at the First Baptist Church praying for your soul?”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Just because I don’t want to trot my business out for everyone in town or be lumped in with all the other women you string along—.”

  “String along?” he demanded. He was so angry he wanted to shake her. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration and annoyance. “Since I bumped into you in that damn bar in Cincinnati I haven’t had time for a conversation with another woman, much less the time to string one along! And if anyone’s doing any stringing here, it’s you!”

  “Me? I don’t think so, Carter Hayes. You’re welcome to walk anytime you want to. In fact, you already did, without a backward glance! Find someone else to have your fun with!”

  He laughed at that but it was a humorless sound.

  She continued, all but shouting. “That’s all this has been for you anyway. Just a little bit of fun, right? Isn’t that what you said? We’d stop when it wasn’t fun for either of us anymore!”

  “Oh, yeah. This is so much fun!” he snarked. It was fun like ramming your face into a brick wall. He started to walk out. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he came there. It had been a beer-fueled impulse and now he wasn’t sure if he regretted it or not. He glanced back at her. She was clearly mad as hell. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her chin was up. But it was the look of hurt and disappointment in her eyes that made him stop. He’d known she could hurt him. She had more times already than he could count. But he’d never thought, not even for a second, that he had the power to hurt her.

  “Fuck it,” he whispered and turned back to her. He grasped her wrist, tugging her forward until she was pressed against him. She wore nothing or next to nothing beneath the robe she had on. His hands went to her hair immediately, tugging her head back until she was looking up at him. Her lips were parted, not in surprise, but anticipation. Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her, his lips moving over hers with all the urgency that he felt. He didn’t want to lose her, but he wasn’t going to take the scraps either.

  Sliding his tongue between her lips, the kiss took on a note that was blatantly carnal. He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but suddenly her back was against the wall and her legs were wrapped around his waist. His cock was so hard he thought it might literally kill him, and she was moaning into his mouth. Drawing back, Carter looked at her, at the flush in her cheeks and her kiss swollen lips. Without a drop of makeup on her face, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. If he unzipped his pants, he could be inside her in less than ten seconds. And he was going to walk away.

  “I’m not doing this with you anymore, Josie… you want to fuck me, then you’re going to have to date me.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, blinking at him in confusion.

  “You heard me,” he said. “If you want me in your bed, then you’re going to be seen with me… in public.” He stepped back, and her legs unlocked from his waist until she was standing on her own two feet. “You know where to find me.”

  “That’s it?” she asked, her brain still clearly muddled from the slightly-more-than-just-a-kiss. “You’re leaving now?”

  “I mean it, Josie… I want you. I want you so bad right now it’s fucking killing me. But I’m not going to just be the man you’re sleeping with.”

  “What are you going to be then?”

  “If you’d let me, I’d be the man who loves you.”

  She said nothing, but her eyes widened and her jaw went slightly slack. He’d dropped a bomb on her and he’d just leave it to sink in.

  Carter opened the door and walked out into the night. Bennett and Emmitt were long gone. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d walked home, probably wouldn’t be the last, because he didn’t believe for a second that Josie Marcum would ditch her good girl image to slum it with him.

  But there was a little spark of hope. It was enough to keep him going.

  Josie watched him walk away. She didn’t try to stop him, not because she didn’t want to, but because her body had simply stopped responding to her brain. Stunned, more than a little drunk on the bottle of wine she’d consumed not long before Carter banged on her door, she couldn’t think or function.

  There was still some wine left and she needed it. Forcing her feet to move, one in front of the other, she entered the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the counter. She didn’t even bother with a glass, but just drained it completely as she walked back to the living room and flopped down on the couch, the empty bottle rolling from her hand. “He didn’t actually say he loved me,” she told herself. “Just that he wanted to.”

  Oh, she needed to talk to her mother. But calling her up this late at night, half drunk and after having Carter banging on the door loud enough for all the neighbors to hear? Actually, her mother was probably already up because one of those neighbors would have called her.

  Even as the thought crossed her mind, her cell phone buzzed on the table. Josie fumbled for it, finally managed to close her hand around it and accepted the call.

  “Hey, Mom.” The words were slurred, but not horribly.

  “Did that boy get you drunk, Josephine?”

  “No,” Josie I admitted. “I got myself drunk long before he showed up… He says he wants to date me. Publicly. That he’s tired of sneaking around. He said—.” She stopped there, even drunk she wasn’t sure she could say that to her mother.

  “Josephine, just tell me. Dear heavens!”

  Josie laid back down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. It wasn’t spinning, but it was a little wobbly. “He said that he doesn’t want to be just the man I’m sleeping with… that he wants to be the man who loves me, if I’ll let him.”

  Deborah went
silent for a minute, thinking before speaking. “Then you should invite him to church.”

  It was such a typical answer from her mother that Josie could only laugh. “He’ll say no.”

  “No, he won’t. If he wants your relationship to be public then there is no better way to say that I am serious about this girl than to attend church with her. Ask him and see.”

  The wine hit her hard, and all she wanted was sleep. “Tomorrow,” Josie said. “I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.”

  14

  Carter was hungover as hell. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling and willed himself not to puke. After leaving Josie’s house, after making an ass of himself, he thought, he’d come home and finished off a bottle of Fire Creek that had been in the cabinet. It had been a horrible, awful, stupid mistake.

  Gingerly, he sat up, put his feet on the floor and focused all his energy on not tossing his proverbial cookies. She was making him crazy. He was so turned inside out by her that he literally didn’t know if he was coming or going and he didn’t even know how the hell it had happened.

  Forcing himself to get to his feet, Carter walked from the bedroom to the bathroom under his own steam. He was buck naked and smelled like a barroom.

  Shower, he thought. He needed a shower. He needed to never smell bourbon again. Or for someone to just kill him and end his misery. That would work. He could call Emmitt. Emmitt would happily end his life since his stunt with the library book on erectile dysfunction had apparently blown the gossip mill wide open. Emmitt was less then pleased with him, to put it mildly.

  Turning on the taps, he waited for the water to warm and leaned his aching head against the cool tile. He pressed his whole face against it and let out a groan at the relief it provided.

  The pounding on the door only echoed the pounding in his head. “Fuck. Just fuck.”