I pull my hair back, the golden ponytail falling over one shoulder. I move the stool over to the hat section of my closet and slide aside my Mint Julep hats to grab a worn-out ball cap that hasn’t seen sunlight in five years or so.
My front door slams. “Cloooooover,” Mama sings.
“Oh, bitty varmint,” I whisper, stepping off the stool, folding the hat into the back of my jeans.
She takes off her heels and places them by the door with a thud. “Where are you?”
I call back to her as I enter my room and start busying myself with a stack of books on my nightstand.
“Your daddy and I were talking. You should have told us about your plans for your car. You didn’t have to borrow Tannie’s old thing, we would have given you our extra SUV.”
“I appreciate that, Mama. I got it covered. What are you guys up to today?” I never felt like I missed out on much growing up without a sibling. Now, I wish I had one to deflect some of their attention. They could take some of this heat.
Her eyes narrow. Suspicion. “How was planning the town festival with Tannie last night?”
My heart pounds against my chest. Corner questioning. She’s heard the false story already. “Great. We have several booths sorted and the food and game vendors are already confirmed. Winnie is going to have a booth there to promote the shelter. I’m having pamphlets made to promote some of the new services we’re offering to the community. It’s coming together real nice…why do you ask?” She never takes any interest in my extracurricular activities that don’t serve her purpose to find me a husband.
“Oh, no reason. You must have been really into it to spend the night at Tannie’s. Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?”
Her familiar perfume enters my breathing space and I hold my breath. Whenever she’s this close to me, she’s either mad or wants a hug. I remember having the fight or flight response to this scent when I was a child. “Yeah, there were several emails we had to get out and it took a while. Plus, we had some wine and I didn’t want to drive. Tannie likes having company, anyway. You know that.” Though, she regularly spends the night at my house and not the other way around.
“Peculiar, that’s all. I’m worried about you,” Mama says. Her judging gaze rakes my outfit.
I clear my throat. “If you have something to say to me, just say it. You never do well beatin’ around the bush.”
She shrugs and looks at her perfect manicure. “Your father loves that you’ve taken such an interest in the festival this year unlike years past. He decided to add a new feature—a game if you will.” Oh, Sherlock. Why didn’t I catch her nefarious plan vibe? I’m usually so good at sniffing them out. Because I’m too busy lying and making my own reprehensible plans.
“Oh, really? What would that be? I have it all covered. Not sure we have space for anything else in the schedule.”
Her smile grows wide and absolutely terrifying. “We’re auctioning you off. For charity, of course. Your charity. Win a date with the mayor’s daughter. I’ve picked out the dress you’ll wear and everything. You know what a fantastic opportunity the festival is. All of the remaining eligible bachelors will come when they hear about it. They can’t say no to charity. Or Clover Wellsley.” My pulse ricochets in my ears. The threat weaves through the undercurrent of her words. Not only has she heard the story, this is the only way she’ll forget it. Trust me, I need her to forget it. She has me pinned in a corner.
“You’re not joking, are you?” Red creeps up my neck and covers my face, I feel it coating my body like a telling second skin.
“I do not joke. I’m excited to spearhead it myself. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you end up with a handsome man. Someone who could be the one.”
I breathe out once and nod. You dished it out, Clover. Now you take your punishment. “Looking forward to it,” I reply, giving her my best pageant face. The deep desire to smother her with one of the twenty-two throw pillows on my bed rises, but I curtsy instead and excuse myself.
“Oh, and Clover?” One last nail in the coffin. I know my mother.
I pick up the cowboy boots next to the island in my kitchen. She makes a very obvious negative appraisal of them. “I have Mercer Ballentine’s welcome home parade scheduled for the festival too. I took over the duties from his mother this afternoon. It will be leading into your charity auction, of course.” Devious. Perfect. I don’t expect anything less. I need to get away from this place before I become like her, before the full metamorphosis happens and I’m stuck in the glass display cage that’s been created for me. All the lies I’m keeping only reinforce how close I already am to embracing the true Wellsley way.
I swallow hard. “Great. I was wondering how that was coming along. Seems like you got all the kinks ironed on out. Let me know if you need anything.” I lay my hand on the doorknob after sliding into my boots. She asks where I’m going and I tell her I’m going to check out a vendor, on a farm, in the next county over.
She puffs out her bouffant hair, like the full can of hairspray isn’t doing its job. “Careful, Clover. You have a lot on the line right now.”
“I’m not sure what you’re worried about, but I’ll drive safely. I can’t wait for the festival.” I slam the door as soon as she bids her goodbye and I call Tannie the second I get in the car.
“I know you’ve booked the vendors and games for the festival, but I need you to book more. My fate depends on it. Don’t ask any questions. What about the band that played the Christmas Cantata? We need them to play a set or two. Maybe they know someone up and coming in the area? Book ‘em too. Please.” Fill all of the gaps and space so there’s no way to fit my auction in is what I want to say to her, but I don’t.
“Okay, Clover, but you need to confess your sins later. Things are getting crazy and I know it has to do with what you’re not telling me.”
“Of course.” I hang up without saying goodbye and cut through a dirt side road to make my way to the Ballentine household with my pockets full of deceit.
Chapter Six
___________________________________
Clover
“YOU DON’T LOOK like yourself without your signature dress, Clover,” Mrs. Ballentine says, pulling me into a hug. Mercer met me out in the drive. He was pacing, hands folded behind his back, gaze eating the pavement. It made me wonder what he was thinking, what was bothering him. As soon as I got out of the car, he kissed me, tongue parting my lips in a groan, and I forgot to ask.
I ignore her low-key jab about my appearance, similar to the one my mama issued. “You must be so happy to have him home,” I say, grinning at Mercer. He hasn’t stopped staring at me since I entered his house. His home is nice by anyone’s standards. His family has been in Alabama for a long time. Not quite as long as mine though. Mercer was the first man I know to deviate from the plan laid out by family members before him. I respect him more than he knows for that.
“I haven’t felt whole since he was gone. I couldn’t turn on the news without crying. Without worrying about my baby boy out there fighting those monsters. I don’t want him to go back,” she replies, sadness swelling in her eyes. She turns to look at him, relief forcing her shoulders to relax once she sees him. He’s home. Not at war.
Mercer folds a large arm around her shoulder and kisses her on the top of her head. “No need to get weepy again. I’m home, and even when I’m not home, those bad guys don’t stand a chance. I’m safe.” He meets my eyes, and then his gaze skirts away as his smile fades. Seems I’m not the only one telling lies.
“I packed you a lunch,” Mrs. Ballentine says, patting underneath her eyes gently to not disturb her eye makeup. “Let me go get the picnic basket.” She retreats to the kitchen. Mercer takes my hand and guides me over to the sofa in the front sitting room.
“We have a problem,” he says, taking my other hand in his. I look down at our hands.
“That bad?”
He hikes up one shoulder. “You know how moms are. They so
rt of know when you’re omitting something.”
“If you’re not a good liar,” I add, tilting my head. “Which you’re not, so go on, continue.”
He smirks. “Well, she kept asking where I was and who I was with last night and next thing I know she knows I was with you all night. Actually, I think she already knew. Anyway, she knows we are going four-wheeling today not to a farm to see a vendor. She wants you to come for dinner tonight.”
I bring a hand to my forehead. Not the end of the world. I don’t think the Ballentines can be bought with auctioning me off to the highest bidder. We have to do it the honest way. “Well, we’ll tell ‘em the truth.”
“Unless you can scare up a plan between now and then.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to make any more plans. I’m all tapped out at the moment. It’s just dinner,” I exclaim louder than is polite.
He squeezes my hand. “It’s easier this way. The truth. We’ll have a safe place here.”
“Valid point, Soldier,” I reply, nodding.
“Not a soldier. Sailor. But thanks for trying, darlin’.”
Mrs. Ballentine rounds a corner and smiles when she sees us. I immediately pull away from Mercer and straighten my back. “Thank you so much for the invitation to dinner, Mrs. Ballentine. I’d love to. Can I make an apple pie?” I ask, glancing at Mercer. “If we have time to get back to my house to fix it beforehand?”
“Sure,” Mercer says. “Or we can make it here. Mom won’t mind.”
She interjects, “I wouldn’t mind not one bit. I’d love to see you make your granny’s recipe. Maybe catch a glimpse at the recipe card myself. That pie has won so many contests over the years.” That recipe card is all in my head, along with dozens of other dishes that make mouths water.
“Thank you. That is so kind of you. Done. Consider it a plan.” A real one. One that doesn’t involve me lying to an entire town. Mercer grabs the picnic basket, kisses her on the cheek, and I say goodbye.
Mercer dropped Bentley’s truck back to him at work and we’re driving his dad’s big truck with a four-wheel trailer hooked up to the back. He opens the passenger side door for me and hands over the basket. The drive to East Woods is about twenty minutes. I handle several emails on my cell phone while he drives, windows down. Winnie had questions about the pamphlets and there was an email I’ve been waiting for that needed an immediate response. I have just enough time to take care of pressing work as he pulls onto a dirt road. Dust mote particles float through the cab, tainting the air.
Mercer parks in a place that doesn’t look like an actual parking spot. “Taking the four-wheeler from here,” he drawls. “You ready?”
“Confession. I haven’t been out here since high school. Also, my mom knows about us. Or you know, she knows what she thinks is the truth about us. I’m deflecting the back blow as best I can, but you should know she knows in case she gets feisty and tries something we’re not ready for.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“Ice Queen didn’t hail from the Good Witch, Mercer Ballentine.”
A sleepy little smile crosses his face. My insides melt. “I dunno. I think you might be a little good witch, a little evil witch. The perfect combination.” He unclips his seat belt. I do the same. “If you’re okay with everyone thinking we’re together, I’ll be okay.”
“Oh my goodness, you think I told Tannie we’re together? Like dating together?”
His eyes widen. “Yeah, I mean what else would you tell her? Not that I was a one-night stand? That would be even worse for your reputation, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, it was easier to explain away dirty sex when it was a one-night stand.”
Mercer turns his face and stares out the windshield. He shakes his head, lips pressing into a firm line. “Should have known.”
“Oh, come on. It was all a fib, Mercer. To throw them off my trail.”
“I can’t even be your fictional boyfriend, huh?”
Grabbing the handle of the picnic basket, I bring it on my lap. “I never said that at all. It was a tall tale that Tannie gobbled up. One I knew would spread fast. That’s the thing with my plans. They are harebrained. I never know if they’re going to work. If they will blow back in my face. You’re hurt by it, and that wasn’t my intention.”
Mercer stays silent and pops over to open the door for me. I watch him work on unloading the four-wheeler. His muscles bunch every time he moves, and I recall last night. The parts that aren’t hazed by tequila. “I’m sorry, Mercer. You can be my boyfriend if you want.”
“You think I want to be your boyfriend?” He smirks, but not at me, it’s directed at the engine of the four-wheeler. “Hand me the basket.” Mercer slams a helmet on his head.
I huff but do what I’m told. He latches it to the back and straps it down with bungee cords. “You’re a confoundin’ man,” I shout. He mounts the ATV and walks it off the trailer, watching over his shoulder to make sure he’s clear.
He extends a helmet when he’s parked. My invitation. “Ask me to be your boyfriend when you smell like mud again,” he drawls, a glint of mischief in his eye. “I’ll consider it then.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I might forget,” I say, snatching the shiny, black helmet from his hand. “Especially because it isn’t very ladylike.”
“Says the classy lass about to straddle a four-wheeler and get dirty with me.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Are you insinuating I’m not a classy lady?”
He lifts his chin. “I’m insinuating you don’t want to be a classy lady.” He shakes his head. “Not with me.”
My stomach flips as I don the helmet and straddle his back. “Ride on, Sailor,” I command.
His laughter is the last thing I hear before the engine fires and Mercer guns it full speed. The trees whir past, the green and the muted brown colors blurring into one quickly moving picture. I laugh, but the wind captures it. I clutch him around his waist, my hands pressed firmly against his abs. I can feel them flex any time he makes a turn or changes paths. Mercer seems to know these woods well. I’m not sure what he’s using as a marker, but the trails all seem to be equally ridden.
It’s exhilarating being out here, surrounded by nature, a film of sweat dotting my skin, his scent reassuring me. We are soaring, flying, and I’ve never felt safer in my life. There’s something about his presence. There’s a hope in his touch. A blind trust that I know won’t fail me. Not like the people in my world. Mercer is from my world, but he’s different. He had the courage to leave when I couldn’t. He doesn’t have a tether—a man of the world. The draw to him is inexplicable. The reasons are countless, but feeling my body next to him, I know I have never felt chemistry so strong. Not while dating the countless, meaningless men throughout my adulthood. This man holds possibility. Oceans of it, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m afraid of drowning in it.
Mercer dips left and weaves right, and we hit a patch of mud. Unlike last night, it doesn’t coat me completely, it splatters, and I can’t contain the giddy laugh. Mercer’s laugh rumbles against my hands and I pull myself closer, clutching his pecs, pressing my breasts against his back. He hits another section of muck, but it splatters against a tree instead of on us. The winding trail opens up and a pond comes into view. It’s isolated, nothing but forest on all sides. I’ve never been to this particular spot before.
He cuts the engine when the brush gets to be too much. “I don’t want to get her stuck. We’ll have to walk from here.” He takes off his helmet and grabs mine from me. I get off and shake my legs out. I’ve been keeping them tense and didn’t realize it.
I breathe out once, big and long. “That was so much fun. I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much. My face hurts.”
“Your pageants,” Mercer teases, unstrapping the picnic basket. “Or that doesn’t count?” He raises one brow, questioning.
I place my hands on my hips. “Those are mostly fake smiles, so they don’t count.
I’ll have you know; I plug my nonprofit at those things, so it’s mostly a business decision these days. Plus, if I won’t be a role model for little girls these days, who will?”
His blue eyes lock with mine. “Maybe drop that role model act for the next few hours, huh? I never said anything bad about your pageants. Just mentioning you smile all the time. Wondering how do you know the difference?”
My smile falls. “I know what you’re doing. I know the difference because right now, with you, I feel happy.”
“You’re not happy on that stage? All lights on you?”
I drop my arms and all pretenses. “I’m happy right now because I’m not pretending to be someone else. This is the person I feel most comfortable with. The happiest.”
“You just broke free. You don’t really know if this makes you the happiest.”
“Fair point. I’d be happier if you were kissin’ me.”
He crosses over and pecks my cheek. “Nice try, but you’re not muddy enough yet.”
“Real funny,” I mutter, grabbing his hand as we trek through the brush to the edge of the pond. There are cattails and tall grass surrounding the water, but there’s a patch of flat grass off to the left side and I know that’s where we’re headed.
“Over the log,” Mercer says, as he lifts one leg to hop over the fallen tree. I follow suit, jumping a little higher with my shorter legs. Mercer sets the picnic basket down and opens a side pocket that has a thin blanket. He spreads it out over the grass.
I kick a few sticks out of the way. “Your mom sure knows how to pack a picnic.”
“She’s so happy I’m home she’d do anything, literally anything I ask. Don’t worry though. I’d never take advantage of it. Figured her packing a lunch would be better than me forgetting something.”
Almost Had You Page 6
