Page 130 of Pink and Country

My heart rate spiked. All traces of amusement had left his face.

“We’re moving in together, and I don’t want to have any secrets lingering between us. You told me about Travis; it’s my time to come clean.”

“You’ve been married before?” The words left my mouth before I could think them twice.

Carter shook his head and kept his gaze down. He took a long and deep breath and tousled his hair with his hands.

“Okay, I’ve already told you I was in love with Dahlia for years.” I nodded. “She started dating my brother when we were still in high school. It crushed me. That’s when I started writing songs. To deal with my heartbreak. To get over her.” Carter’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and I would’ve given anything to release the pain etching his features. I felt his sorrow. Like green sharp thorns strangling my heart. Carter dragged his hands over his face and averted his gaze.

I kneeled between his legs, my hands squeezing his. Carter’s hands were icicles in mine. The opposite of their usual warm temperature.

“Whatever it is, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” I repeated his own words to him.

Carter cleared his throat and continued. “Jeff, my brother, was deployed during our first world tour as Carter Hills Band. He came back a changed man. Most nights, when he was away, and we were on tour, Dahlia crawled to my room and cried for hours, fearing something would happen to him overseas. When he finally made it home, safe and sound, he’d lost his spark. Whatever he experienced over there changed him. Forever. Around us, he’d act like nothing happened, but dark stuff passed through his eyes every time he thought we weren’t looking. Things weren’t easy for them at home. He often acted out over stupid stuff and withdrew himself in his garage. He didn’t want to lash out at her. I knew my brother. He loved Dahlia with all his heart. Then we left for our second world tour. He didn’t join us, which was unusual. Jeff and Dahlia grew distant. They fought a lot. Even from thousands of miles apart.”

Carter brought his hands, with mine still attached to them, over his eyes, hiding his emotions from me.

“A month before the end of our tour, Dahlia came to my room. We had sex. It was long overdue. For a night, Dahlia stopped fighting her feelings toward me, and it happened. We didn’t use protection. Dumb move, I know. In the spur of the moment, neither of us cared about using a condom. We were young, stupid, and for a few hours, I thought Dahlia would break up with Jeff and run away with me. The next morning, Jeff surprised us on the road. He stuck around for the rest of the tour.” I bit my lower lip, refusing to interrupt him.

I had no idea what to think of Carter’s confession. I already knew he had been in love with Dahlia, but his story was more heart-wrenching than I’d ever imagined it could be. I ached to protect the man I loved. I blinked the hot tears welling in my eyes away. Carter said he never told anyone about this. How had he lived with this secret for so long?

His voice dropped to a whisper, and I brought my focus back on him.

“On the last night of the tour, after we gave one of the best performances of our lives, Dahlia told me she was pregnant and the baby was Jeff’s. Minutes later, she quit the band. My entire world crumbled that night. I begged her to raise the baby with me. I wanted a future with her. A family. Everything. I remember how Jeff beamed that night. Like he used to. Dahlia told me he proposed, and they were getting married.” With a quivering voice, Carter added, “I started drinking. A lot. To numb all my feelings. My pain. We had a few months off before going back to the studio. But I didn’t enjoy the break. I’d lost the woman I thought I’d marry someday, and my band. Stud quit the band the same week Dahlia did. He had other dreams. I ended up alone. Heartbroken. And lost.”

Carter’s voice cracked, and he avoided my eyes.

I squeezed his hands tighter.

“I attended their wedding, wasted. Jeff and Dahlia loved me too much to say something about it. They let me be. Dahlia told me the other day she’d told Jeff about us before the wedding. That’s why they didn’t chastise me for my lack of manners. I barely remember anything about that day. I sucked as the best man. My whiskey and I were best buddies. Until Jeff died. I never said goodbye to my brother. To the best friend I’ve ever had. He tried to reach out after the wedding, but I always had a million reasons to push him away. Seeing him happy hurt too fucking much, and I was ashamed of what I’d become.”

Kneeling, I lifted my upper body up and curled my hands behind Carter’s head, pulling it down to my chest. His forehead rested between my breasts. Could I kiss all his pain away?

“I woke up from my path of self-destruction when Dahlia stood on my front porch one morning, broken, telling me Jeff died the previous night. After he got back from the gym. All night, I ignored her calls. She must have called at least two hundred times—Fuck, I was stupid. And selfish. I even let my phone die on purpose. I’m such a—” Carter’s voice cracked, and he remained quiet for a long moment.

My brain overheated with silent questions. An icy shiver rolled down my back.

“After Jeff passed, I never touched another sip of alcohol again and changed my life overnight. I hate to think his death was my wake-up call. Anyway, after cleaning my life up, I promised myself to never fall off the wagon again. Dahlia and the baby had no one else to care for them. So I stepped up. I owed it to my brother.”

Carter leaned back but kept his head hanging low. A guttural sound taking root in the dark corners of his soul escaped his lips, and every cell of my body vibrated. Down to my toes. One at a time. Carter’s eyes, bloodshot-red and glassy, met mine. His handsome face had transformed into a roadmap of pain and sorrow. My lips traveled all over his skin, kissing it, healing the distress and grief that had settled there.

Breathing some air and courage, I asked the question dangling from the tip of my tongue. I wanted to know. It wouldn’t change anything, but after such a confession, I deserved the truth.

“Is Jack your son?”

Carter straightened his back as if a puppet master had just pulled on the wire attached to his head and yanked it up. His throat rippled, like he’d just swallowed a scorching rock. The hurt in his gaze nailed me to the floor.

“I don’t know. Nobody knows. There’s this paternity test—”

“The envelope under your pillow?”

He nodded. “I never looked at the results. Dahlia gave it to me after Jack’s birth. She refused to know unless I’m the one who tells her. I’m scared, April. It’s been eating me up alive. Whatever the results, it won’t change how much I love him. He’s my blood, whether or not I’m his dad. I should’ve opened the envelope years ago. Now I’m too chickenshit. And it could mess everything up. Jack is just a kid. Who am I to fuck up his life?”

“Carter, you’re allowed to know the truth if it matters to you. Nobody will ever hate you for caring. You’re amazing, you’re honest, you’re strong. I won’t tell you what to do. It’s your decision. But whatever you decide, I’ll hold your hand if you need me to. I’ll stay tall by your side no matter what. I’m here. With you.”

Carter’s hands clamped on my waist, and he lifted me until I straddled him. He framed my face with his hand and kissed me with everything he had, slow and fast. Hard and soft.

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