“Sorry,” Zoe whispered. “I thought she’d be gone by now.”

Melanie glanced April’s way and smiled. Well, bared her teeth at the woman. “Maybe she’s waiting on a summons from the governor.”

Zoe and Melanie broke out in giggles. Leah frowned at them, then cast a sympathetic glance April’s way. “I know you’re used to better company, sugar.”

“Oh no, ma’am. I think it keeps me grounded to know what those less fortunate than us have to go through. Like eating at a family friend’s house, so she doesn’t go hungry,” April said, returning Melanie’s smile with a smirk. “It’s why I support my father’s initiative—”

“None of that kind of talk at the table,” Lawton Ambrose said. “I have enough trouble digesting as it is.”

Leah shook her head at her husband and tapped him on the arm. “Don’t mind him, April.”

“When are you headed home, April?” Zoe asked and Melanie could’ve kissed her best friend. “I’m sure you have a lot to do, with your dad in campaign mode.”

“Zoe Martha, where are your manners?” Leah scolded. “April is welcome to stay here as long as she likes.”

April looked down at her plate, the perfect picture of demure southern belle. “I’m not sure Carter would like that.”

Leah reached across the table, patting the younger woman’s hand in reassurance. “He doesn’t mind one bit. I spoke to him today about it and he’s so very sorry that he couldn’t come tonight. But you know how he likes to tinker on car engines.”

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April shook her head, caramel color hair sliding forward. “That’s nice of you to say, but I think he has other things on his mind.”

“Just give him time to get whatever has gotten into him out of his system. Let him hit rock bottom with the trash so he can realize what a treasure he has in you,” Leah said as she reached for her glass of water and took a sip.

Melanie’s mouth fell open, then she snapped it shut.

“Momma,” Zoe gasped. “That was an ugly thing to say.”

“Oh, you know present company is excluded,” Leah said, then smiled. As if sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Melanie struggled to stay quiet. She stabbed at the green bean casserole on her plate a few times, before spearing piece of chicken.

“Carter did mention something about one of the local girls. That she was head over heels for him, but he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a long term thing.” April raised her head and shrugged. “Maybe she gave him something I didn’t, seeing as how I’m saving myself for marriage.”

Melanie choked, earning a swift pounding on the back from Zoe and a would-you-mind look from Leah. “Wrong pipe,” she rasped before taking a drink of sweet tea.

“Too bad Evangeline had cheerleading practice tonight,” her best friend whispered. “I can only imagine what she would have to say.”

Clearing his throat, Lawton rose to his feet. “I’m taking my supper in the living room.”

Just as Lawton left, the phone rang and Leah excused herself from the table.

The dining room was silent but for the scrape of utensils. Not that Melanie expected April to talk to her, but she did expect April to at least make small talk with Zoe.

“Have you been working out, Zoe? I swear you look sooo much skinnier than the last time I saw you,” April said and Melanie fought the urge to smack the woman. “It’s not healthy to carry all that extra weight, with your face and all.”

“Not that you’re not pretty in your own way,” April added.

Stunned, Melanie could only gape at April.

“I weigh exactly the same as I did eight months ago,” Zoe said, her nose lifting in the air. “And there’s not a dang thing wrong with my face.”

Melanie reached for Zoe’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I think you’re gorgeous, doll. And so does Gabriel.”

“Who are you doing, I mean dating, Melissa?”

“No one,” Melanie said through clenched teeth. “Thanks for asking.”

April leaned forward in her chair. “Already went through all the boys around here?”

“And then some,” Melanie shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now I’m making my way through all the men.”

“Melanie Ann Smith,” Leah gasped, her hand on her heart. “You will not talk like that in front of Zoe. She’s a good girl.”

“I am not,” Zoe snapped. “There are lots of things I’ve done that you know nothing about.” She grabbed her plate, stood up and left the room, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going over to Gabriel’s. Who knows what sorts of things we’ll be doing.”

Melanie almost gave her best friend a standing ovation. Instead she smiled and made a mental note to text Zoe later.

“See what you’ve done,” Leah said, her eyes narrowing.

“What I’ve done?” Melanie said, her nose scrunching on one side. “It’s that thing you’ve invited into your home that started all this.”

“You will not insult—”

“She’s right, Ms. Ambrose. It’s all my fault.” Fat tears rolled down April’s face. “I was only trying to help Zoe. She’s like a little sister to me and I can’t stand to see someone downplaying their looks.”

“What a crock,” Melanie muttered, yanking her napkin out of her lap. “Thank you for dinner, but I need to go, too.”

“Don’t forget to take some key lime pie with you, sugar,” Leah said. “I made it just for you.”

“I will and thank you,” Melanie said, feeling as if her head wanted to spin like a top. The woman had insulted her at Carter’s garage and again at dinner, but had also taken the time to make (and remember) her favorite dessert?

“Something else the matter, Mrs. Ambrose?” April asked as Melanie scraped her chair back and picked up her plate.

“Just my brother, John. I know I shouldn’t talk, but you’re like a daughter to me and well, he and Raylene have been having problems,” Leah said. “He wants to take her a special trip but she always has other plans.”

Oh God. She did not need to hear this, because she had a sinking feeling that Raylene’s plans were Melanie’s dad.

Melanie practically ran out of the room and lobbed her plate on the kitchen counter. Opening a cabinet near the sink, she found some Tupperware and threw in a big slice of pie, then headed out the back door.

Melanie had never left the Ambrose house so quickly in her life, or ever been so happy to do so. Jumping in her car, she started it up and headed home. She had no desire to have dessert with Carter or anyone else for that matter. All she wanted was a bubble bath and a romance novel. Those two things never failed to put her in a better mood.

One bubble bath and half a romance novel later, Melanie was still in a foul mood. She tossed the book on the floor and grabbed the towel off the hook, wrapping it around her shivering body. Maybe it was time for some pie.

After drying off and putting on her robe, she walked to the kitchen and rummaged through the silverware drawer for a fork. She took the fat slice of pie out of the fridge and the plastic container, placing it on a paper plate, because there was no darn way she felt like doing dishes. A house without a dishwasher meant that everything had to be done by hand.

One slice of heaven later, she licked the fork clean and chunked it the sink. That she could get tomorrow when she cleaned up her mess from breakfast. As she headed to her bedroom, her phone buzzed and she scooped it up. “Carter,” she muttered.

Where are you? I’m getting worried.

Yeah, she bet he was. He was worried he wouldn’t be getting any tonight, and he was right.

I’m fine.

And?

Oh she knew what that meant. He wanted to know when she’d be coming over there, like some kind of desperate woman. Well here you go, she thought as she sent another text.

Thank you for asking.

This time, her phone rang. Sighing, she flopped down her bed and answered it. “Hello.”

“‘Thank you for asking?’” Carter all but growled into the phone.

“Oh, did I need to send you a note instead of a text?”

“You need to get over here.”

Staring at the ceiling, she counted the glow-in-the-dark stars that had never fallen off. “No.”

“No?” God, she so wish she could see his face right now, because he sounded shocked as hell. A thick sigh later, he said, “Tell me what to do to fix this.”

“How about what not to do?” she asked slowly, then braced for his comeback. He had to have one. Although a very large part of her would die if he did.

“I’m listening.”

Melanie blinked, then glanced at her phone. That wasn’t the comeback she expected. Her shoulders tensed as she thought about exactly what should be on her list of don’ts. “Don’t order me to come to your place just for sex. Don’t ignore me at work…and don’t treat me like a…a—”

“Piece of ass,” he supplied.

“Yes.”

“No problem.”

Tension left her shoulders. It couldn’t be that easy. A woman couldn’t have that kind of conversation with a man and him say ‘No problem’. “I’m still not coming over tonight.”

“Didn’t figure you were.”

Now she wanted to come over to his place. Stay strong, Melanie. “See you tomorrow at work.”

“Sounds good. Oh, and Melanie?”

“Yeah?”

“Two things. First, don’t give my sister back the outfit you borrowed. I don’t think I could take seeing Zoe wear it after today.” Melanie struggled not to laugh at the seriousness in his voice. “Second, how about wearing something more you tomorrow?”

“Yes to the first, and maybe to the second.” She rolled to her side and traced a figure eight on the covers. “I tend to go a little overboard with my themes.”

“I think your themes are perfect,” he said. “Don’t go changing on my account.”

She melted inside, got all nice and gooey at the center. This was the Carter of her dreams. “Maybe a little theme then.”

He laughed, then the line went silent. “Did you want to keep talking or say good night?”

She froze, her finger stuck at the upper curve of the eight. “Um…keeping talking?”

“Remember that time you went to John Hampton’s place and blew up his barn?”

Her mouth dropped and she sat up. “I did not blow up his barn! It just caught on fire a little bit after the propane tank quit doing its job of holding everything inside.”

“A little bit.” Carter snorted. “It took the fire department all day to put it out.”

“Worried I’m going to do that to your garage?”

“Maybe.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Carter!”

“Hey, I can’t help what I know about my employee’s past misdeeds.”

Laughing, she brought her knees up and wrapped one arm around them. “You know what?”

“What?”

“This, what we’re doing right now, is on my Do List.”

“I know,” he said, right before his voice dropped lower and made her heart speed up. “Want to know what’s on my Do List when it comes to you?”

She shivered in excitement. “Yes.”

Low laughter came over the line. “What are you wearing right now, Melanie?”

Unwrapping her arm from around her knees, she settled against her pillows and smiled. “I was hoping you’d ask me that.” It was going to be a very long and naughty phone conversation with him—she hoped.

Chapter Eight

Melanie had tried. She really had, but there wasn’t enough will-power in her for her stop.

She glanced down at her outfit and grinned. Today she wore a bright red t-shirt with Carter’s racing number on it, black and white checkered shorts, and since it was the middle of January, black leggings tucked into knee high black boots.

Every time she caught Carter staring, she over-exaggerated her movements. Bent over just a little bit more, throw her shoulder back a little bit further, put a little more hip action in her walk. But true to Carter’s word and her Don’t List, he treated her like an employee during work hours. He talked to her, ate lunch with her in the office and even asked her opinion on things she didn’t have a clue about. Like website colors.

Sure she knew what colors she liked, but what made a user come back again and again—not so much.

But after hours…Oh God.

He’d call and talk so dirty to her that she was surprised her sheets hadn’t caught on fire. Just last night he asked her to touch herself. Well, make that, he ordered her to touch herself. To make herself come while he told her in explicit detail all things he wanted to do with and to her. So she had, and today…somehow she’d managed to not turn eighty-five shades of red when he’d said good morning to her.

The garage door opened and Carter drove in a cherry red classic Mustang convertible, parking it beside a green Jeep Cherokee. She smiled and started to walk in his direction when a slender dark-haired girl appeared out of nowhere. Rose Holland. She wore a long skirt, a faded purple and a cream colored sweater that was thin at the elbows.

Their eyes met, the girl’s a startling shade of blue and so weary that Melanie wanted to hug her. Automatically Melanie waved. Rose nodded, hand clenched tight by her side.




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