Gah, the man was impossible. “You know what?” I said. “I’m not tired. I’m just going to go back to the couch and read for a bit.”
“Suit yourself.”
I fled before he could take off any more clothes.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cody
I sat on my front lawn reading a book May had sent me. It was a good book and I really liked it, but I was feeling restless and I couldn’t seem to focus on the pages in front of me. I’d woken up that morning with a warm, beautiful woman wrapped around me and a dick so hard it could have cut through glass. I hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it, because Carrie had woken up seconds later. She’d scooted out of that bed so fast, you’d have thought it was on fire.
Not the reaction I typically got from women whose bed I shared, but I understood. Carrie wasn’t a one-night stand or casual dating kind of woman, she was looking for a serious relationship and I was definitely not the guy for that job. I had too much on the line, too much planned, to get caught up in something with her. So I hadn’t made a move, I’d teased her plenty, but I hadn’t pushed and I hadn’t touched her. I’d walked away and I’d gone for a run and I’d lifted at the gym for over an hour, but I couldn’t burn away the memory of how she felt in my arms or work off the restless, needy energy that was pinging all over my body.
I bent my head over my book and tried to focus. Movement in my peripheral vision made me turn my head to see some guy, in jeans and a t-shirt and carrying a backpack, cross Carrie’s yard and step onto her porch. At first, I thought the dude must be one of her students, but he looked around while he waited for her to answer the door and our eyes caught. The guy was no kid, he just dressed like a kid. I’d never been the kind of man who considered how good-looking other men were, it’s just not something that ever crossed my radar, but I thought it was safe to say this guy was no threat to me.
Threat? That gave me pause. He could only be a threat to me if I was interested in Carrie and I was not interested in her. She may have been in my thoughts all day and I might have gotten into the habit of watching her comings and goings, but that was just because she was hot and I wouldn’t mind a good time between the sheets with her. I ought to be hoping she met a guy and got serious about him, because then I could write her off and focus on what should be consuming all my thoughts: my winery. Instead, I couldn’t look away as Carrie, dressed in that same outfit of pants and sweater set that should have indicated she was out of my league but only made me wonder what she was wearing under it, and her wannabe teenager crossed her lawn and got into her car. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting stranded again.
I watched as she backed down the driveway, but I didn’t look at Carrie. No, I watched the guy in the passenger seat. I glared at him with the heat of a radioactive ray gun until he looked up and met my gaze. I narrowed my eyes and silently communicated to him that he better fucking treat her right or he’d be answering to me. Just like that douche canoe Jonas had answered to me this morning at the library. Oh, he’d claimed Carrie had chosen to stay behind to meet friends, but I wasn’t backing down. Carrie didn’t lie to me and she deserved to be treated right. I don’t know where this fierce protectiveness came from, but I figured it’d go away as soon as she stopped dating assholes. Jonas agreed to apologize, with a dozen roses and a promise never to say one mean thing to her or about her ever again. I would have preferred he never speak to her again, period, but that seemed like taking it a bit too far. They’d probably see one another at the library, judging by the book-filled, built-in bookshelves in Carrie’s bedroom and the stacks of books in her living room and dining room.
Carrie’s current date just looked confused. He said something to Carrie and she shook her head and took off. I watched until I couldn’t see her car anymore and then I wandered over to Betty’s house. Betty was the meanest woman I’d ever met, but she saw everything that went on in the neighborhood and she knew everyone in town worth knowing.
“What do you want?” Betty asked. She was seated on her front porch, stroking an overfed, white cat. Betty was a small woman, with a neatly coiffed hairdo and lipstick, her brown eyes sparkling. She tried to look nice, though she rarely had visitors.
“You know that guy Carrie just left with?” I took a seat on the top porch step and got comfortable. This was going to take a while.
“Carrie? Pah! She’s strutting around here like she’s too good for any decent man and then she takes you in her house and you don’t leave until morning.”
I ducked my head to hide my smile. Carrie would hate it if she knew Betty had seen that. I looked back up to find Betty narrowing her eyes at me. “And don’t think I don’t know what you are, with your loud music and your shirt-less lawn-mowing. You are a no good, worthless, good-time guy and you will most likely break Carrie’s heart.”
That one struck a little too close to home. “She didn’t look too heartbroken to me. She just left here with some other guy.”
“Pah! You know I sent her on a date with my grandson, a nice, good-looking, respectable young man who treated her to a lovely dinner. At the end of the date, she told him she didn’t intend to see him again. Can you believe that? Throwing away a perfectly good young man like that?”
“That does seem like a poor choice.” I was absolutely kissing up to get on Betty’s good side. “Do you know why?”
“My boy does like to go on a bit too much about his job. It’s fascinating work. She should have appreciated the lesson he’d given her, but she shooed him away like a dog. Like a dog.”
I shook my head in sympathy. “What is his job?”
“He’s a mortician, young man. A very respectable profession and a profitable one. Carrie’s not getting any younger and it’s no secret she wants a family. She can’t afford to turn away a man just because she doesn’t care for his dinner conversation.”
“Maybe it was more than that,” I said. “I’m sure she wants to click physically and emotionally with a guy. The problem might just have been that there was no spark.”
“Oh, you’d know all about spark, wouldn’t you, you filthy man whore. Taking advantage of our poor Carrie like that. It’s criminal.”
Amazing how quickly she could shift loyalties when it suited her. I could tell her the truth about why I’d spent the night at Carrie’s house, but I wasn’t about to let Betty put me on the defensive before I’d gotten any answers. “Maybe I’m not the man whore you think I am,” I said, trying to not to laugh at myself. “Maybe I’ve got a real thing for Carrie and I’m jealous of that guy she just left with. Who is he?”
“A better match for her than an unemployed playboy who’s only interested in her body.”
I pretended to be greatly offended. “I’m not only interested in Carrie’s body. And I’m not unemployed. I’m in town to find the right land to start a vineyard and winery. I’m an enologist.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t use big words with me, boy, and think you’re going to distract me from the real facts. Fact: you are unemployed, no matter what kind of fancy label you put on it. Fact: You are not the settling down type and you are a downright nuisance. And fact: who Carrie dates is none of your business.”
“So she is on a date.”
Betty sniffed. “I don’t claim to know anything about that, young man. Now, kindly get off my porch and leave an old woman in peace.”
I stood and stepped down to the grass. “It’s just that her last date stranded her at Vince’s Italian and Barbecue all alone. I’m worried about her and want to make sure she’s going to be okay.”
“Stranded her at Vince’s? My grandson would never do such a thing. That child has no sense when it comes to men. None.” She gestured at me. “Case in point, standing on my lawn like a stray dog begging for scraps.”
“Okay,” I said. “I see I was mistaken. I figured you’d know who the guy is, but I’ll just mosey on over to Norma Jane’s. She probably knows the guy.”
Bett
y’s face turned an interesting shade of pink. “Norma Jane is a two-faced, gossiping, back-stabbing recluse who doesn’t remember half of what she once knew. If you want to know who that man is you need to speak to someone with all of her faculties.”
“Which is why I came to you first. I guess I was wrong, since you don’t know him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you hard-headed heathen,” she said. “Of course I know him. That’s Maureen Pickle’s boy. He’s still living at home with his momma because he’s too damn cheap to get his own place. He’s a clerk over at the courthouse, but he likes to pretend he’s still nineteen. He’s a few dishes short of a banquet, but he won’t hurt your girl.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve got eyes don’t I? And all five of my senses, plus common sense added to it. That boy is too cheap to treat her to a nice evening out, but he won’t hurt her. And she’s driving, so he won’t strand her.”
“Thank you, Miss Betty,” I said, letting a little extra south creep into my voice.
“You ought to do more than thank me, boy. You ought to get over here and fix that loose porch railing I told you about last week.”
“You’re right. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”
“Not first thing, boy,” she said. “Especially not if you spend the night at Carrie’s again. Wash the stink off you and then come over.”
I mock saluted her. “I won’t come over until I’m squeaky clean and not smelling of sex.”
She huffed and complained about my foul mouth, but I headed back across the street and pretended I didn’t hear her.
***
I was back in my chair, reading my book and actually invested in what was happening, when someone else crossed Carrie’s lawn to her front porch. This time it was a kid with a piece of metal in his cheek. Carrie’s nephew, the one who’d told me off for playing my music too loud when I was washing my truck, the one who’d made her cry. “She’s not home,” I shouted before he had a chance to knock.
He crossed over to stand in front of me, blocking the dim light from the setting sun that I’d been reading by. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“I’m not her keeper,” I said, my jaw clenched tight. “She left here a while ago with some clown in jeans and a t-shirt.”
“One of her students?” Harrison had the good sense to look wary of me, but his concern for his aunt seemed to take precedence.
“Not unless she teaches thirty-year-old men.”
“A date then.” He deflated a bit. “She’ll be gone for a while.”
He started to walk away and I almost let him go, but it was just too much. “Wait a minute.” I stood and put my book down on the chair behind me. The kid turned back to me, his eyebrows raised. “You’re her nephew. Harrison, right?”
“Yeah. Did she mention me?”
I strode over until I was standing toe-to-toe with him. The kid wasn’t short and he wasn’t skinny, but I towered over him. “Yeah,” I said. “You’re the asshole who made her cry.”
I pulled back my arm and punched him before he had a chance to respond. I’m not usually violent. Okay, that’s not true, I’ve been in my share of fights before, but none of them felt quite as good as punching that kid. It took away a little bit of the antsiness I’d been feeling since I’d seen Carrie so sad the other day.
I picked up my book and sat back down and the kid stared at me, dazed. “What was that for?”
I could have gone into detail and explained why Carrie had been crying over him, but he didn’t appear to be an idiot, so I thought he could figure that part out on his own. “You made her cry. I don’t like to see her cry.”
The kid looked at me like I’d grown a third head and I wasn’t sure I hadn’t. “Aren’t you the same guy who turned your music up when she asked you to turn it down?”
The kid had a point. “It doesn’t make any sense to me either. I didn’t like seeing her cry and it made me feel better to punch you.”
“Glad I could help.” He didn’t look glad, he looked a bit put out, but he wasn’t angry. He knew he deserved it.
“Don’t make her cry again. Now, are you going to leave me alone so I can finish this book before the game starts? Or are you going to stand there and yabber at me until I punch you again?”
“I’m going. I’ll just sit on Aunt Carrie’s porch and wait until she gets back.”
He sat on Carrie’s porch with a heavy textbook and pored over it intently. I waved at him after half an hour and invited him in to watch the game at my place. He was a punk, but he was Carrie’s nephew and I didn’t want him sitting on her porch in the dark. He came over, seeming to harbor no ill feelings, and we went in and turned on the game. I offered him a drink and some chips and we relaxed on my couch in front of my massive T.V. He didn’t ask me why his aunt was crying over him and I didn’t ask him what was going on in his life. On the first commercial break, I did ask him if it was true that Carrie raised him, because, despite my best intentions, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Yeah,” he said. “I moved in with her when I was fourteen and I lived with her until I started college a year and a half ago. I lived with her for six years, because I was a bit behind in school and it took me a while to catch up and graduate. She saved my life.”
“Yeah,” I asked. “How so?”
The commercial break ended, the game came back on and we returned our attention to it. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to answer me, but he did as soon as we hit another commercial break. “I was pretty messed up,” he said. “I’d been getting in a lot of trouble, but more than that…” He met my eyes and the pain on his face felt a bit like my own. I knew a thing or two about screwing up. “More than that, I didn’t believe in myself, didn’t even like myself very much. I was headed for a very short life and a miserable, probably violent, end. Aunt Carrie took me in and she didn’t lecture me or try to get me to see the error of my ways. She just told me she loved me every day, she told me I could do better than I’d been doing, and little by little I started to believe her.” He bounced his leg, thinking it over. “Or maybe I just wanted to make her smile. She doesn’t smile enough.”
Something I’d never considered, probably because I hadn’t given her too many reasons to smile at me. “She seems like a good person,” I said. “But…” The game came back on and I held my thought.
“She is a good person,” Harrison said. “She’s the best. I never considered how my choices, now that I’m not under her roof anymore, might hurt her. I don’t want to cause her more pain.”
“Maybe,” I said, working it out as I spoke. “Maybe it’s enough that she believes in you. If she wants the best for you and wants you to go after it, maybe that’s enough, even if you think you’re not good enough or don’t deserve it for whatever reason.”
His expression lightened a bit. “Yeah. Maybe that’s all any of us need. Someone to believe in us when we’ve forgotten how to believe in ourselves.”
Light flashed through my dining room window and into the dimly lit living room. “That’s your aunt home,” I said. “Better go see how her date went.”
He stood. “Thanks for the snacks and the drink and the game. And thanks for the punch. I’m thinking it might have knocked some sense into me.”
“Anytime. Take care of your aunt.”
I watched him walk out and I almost wished I was going with him. Carrie gave so much of herself to so many people, it was a shame no one bothered to give her anything back. A shame she had no one to take care of her and make her smile, to believe in her when she couldn’t believe in herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
Carrie
I pulled myself out of bed Saturday morning, but only because I refused to lay there and wallow in my bad mood any longer. I’d been holding it together pretty well for a pretty long time, putting my wants and feelings second to those of the people who needed me, and I didn’t have the energy for it anymore. I took an extra-long, hot shower an
d reminded myself of all I had to be happy about, but my heavy mood remained. I couldn’t even garden, because it was pouring rain.
I got dressed, ate breakfast, and picked up the book I was reading, a suspenseful vampire romance, but I put it down after only a couple of pages. I just felt blah, everything seemed blah, and I wanted a change. I wanted some excitement. I’d been so good for so long. I’d done everything I was supposed to do, I followed all the rules, I was always there for the people in my life who needed me, and yet my reward was loneliness and no joy or excitement in my future. “Blech,” I said, disgusted with myself. I was a firm believer that people made their own destiny, so if I was unhappy it was my own fault. Finding a husband wasn’t happening, so maybe I needed to have some of that wild fun I’d missed out on in college and in my early twenties.
And I knew just where to find it.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Dilly asked, her voice sleep-filled.
“Um, eight,” I said.
“Right,” she said. “Or the butt crack of dawn as anyone under sixty would call it. Why are you calling me so early? Did some loser strand you after a breakfast date? Or are you stuck at some loser’s house? Please tell me you got laid? How was it?” If I hadn’t known Dilly most of my life, I might have thought she was still drunk from the night before, but that was just how she woke up every day, zero to sixty in under a minute.
“No. I didn’t sleep with anyone. It’s just…I’m ready.”
“Ready?” I waited for her to wake up enough to understand what I was saying. She got it in about thirty seconds and squealed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Are you serious?”
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