Page 74 of Pink and Country

“All I can say is that you’ll see more of us together soon.”

“And what about the song he wrote for the mystery woman he’s currently seeing?”

Savannah Prince rolled her eyes at the camera. “Come on, Cindy, you can’t be serious. Carter wrote that song a long time ago. It has nothing to do with this—” I held my breath and closed the browser tab, ending the video. Enough. Forty-nine seconds. My stomach churned, and I inhaled deeply to calm the emotions storming inside me. Savannah Prince nailed the manipulative bitch act to perfection. For a second, she even almost got me convinced Carter was the bad guy. That’s why I never watched entertainment news or read gossip magazines. People vomited words to sound interesting and sympathetic when, in fact, they had nothing worthy to say. How could Carter ever fall for her and then be interested in someone like me? I was so out of my league here.

The day I found out who he was, Carter had straightened out some facts about their relationship before I heard things and panicked.

“We’re both to blame for this mess,” he’d said. “I agreed to this relationship when everything in me screamed I shouldn’t. I didn’t get out when I should’ve. At first, Savannah and I seemed good. It changed once we moved in together. She became some sort of evil, and I stayed because I wanted to make it work. To prove to myself I could be in a relationship. And do things differently, I guess. I was lost.”

“Did you love her?” Carter’s eyes drifted to mine, big and wide, as if I’d said something horrible. I hung my head low. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.” I rolled my lips over my teeth, quieting myself.

“It’s okay. No, I didn’t love her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Maybe that’s why I endured this nightmare longer than I should have. Because I wished, one day, I’d feel something. Anything. In the end, I learned she’d been having an affair for over a year. Everything about Savannah was fake. Her laugher. Her orgasms. Not just her tits or lips. She told everybody I was a sex addict after I got caught with a random woman in a hotel room. I wasn’t sick, I was sexually frustrated. Not long after I moved to LA to be with her, I began a dry-spell diet. She always had a far-fetched reason to keep me at a distance. Too tired or too stressed. Too everything. Her nails got done, or she refused to mess up her styled hair. One time, she even told me she’d cleaned her aura and that close contact with me would misalign her chakras or some shit.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I wish. That day, I wanted to rip my eyeballs off. Still, months later, she’s telling the media we’ll get back together. Our relationship was one big lie, so go figure.” HN rose to his feet and disappeared into his music studio as I attacked the dishes, fiddling with the dishcloth in my hands. I chugged a glass of water, cooling the flames licking my throat. Why did I open that can of worms?

Carter joined me in front of the fireplace an hour later, his smile back, our conversation about Savannah Prince forgotten.

The Carter Hills I’d learned to know had nothing in common with the one Savannah Prince described in her interviews.

Now, with my eyes closed, I let Carter’s song do the talking, wondering how long it’d take for him to come back home. When did I start considering Green Mountain and Carter’s cabin as home ? I pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter since I was leaving today. I relaxed my shoulders, my brain half-awake, surfing on Carter’s voice. To hell with what Savannah Prince said. This song was mine.

Lost in my head—and my song—I didn’t hear Carter coming in. He pulled my earbuds from my ears, and I startled. My eyes sprang open, and my breathing hitched. It took a second for my brain to reboot.

Carter’s eyes locked on mine. At his sight, I struggled to remember why I was mad at him in the first place. He looked tired and stressed out but still handsome with his scruffed jaw and untamed hair. The time we spent apart didn’t mean anything anymore. His metal irises swallowed me in, and I lost myself in them, swimming in their depths.

16

Carter

I swaggered inside my cabin and kicked the door shut after me. Like a wild animal, I went from room to room, in search of April. Living room? Nope. Kitchen? Nope. Media room? Not there either. Where the hell is she? The den. Sure. Why didn’t I check it first? Fairy loved that room. I tramped into the bay-window-lined space, scanned the room, and turned on my heels once I realized April wasn’t there either. The pounding of my heart deafened me. She’s here somewhere.

I laced my fingers together, rested my joined hands on the top of my head, and blew out a breath. A second later, I pivoted on the balls of my feet and sprinted up the stairs to the second floor and found April in the guest bedroom—her room—lying on the bed, her back propped against the headboard, her eyes closed, listening to music with earbuds, Bernice curled in a ball next to her. The sight of them sent a bolt of warmth through me. That was what coming home should always look like. Feel like. Be like. Except April shouldn’t be lying on the guest room bed. She should be lying in mine. Fuck.

April’s fingers drummed a beat on her folded legs. I resisted the temptation to kiss her pink lips as she mouthed the lyrics of a song.

She wore heather gray sweatpants and a white, V-neck, cotton long-sleeve shirt. Her face was bare, and she had a knot of pink hair on the top of her head. She looked every shade of beautiful.

With my hands stuffed in my denims pockets and my shoulder resting on the doorframe, I watched her for a long moment, holding my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from her. April hadn’t heard me coming in and had no clue she was being observed. I felt like a hunter about to attack his prey.

I studied the pattern of her breathing, the soft rise of her chest with every intake of breath. My mouth watered at the sight of the swell of her breasts from the collar of her low-cut shirt.

My dick noticed it too.

I zoomed in on the pulse in her neck and a small, reddened area on the left side below the ear caught my attention. Did I mark her the other night when I devoured her in my hotel suite?

My lips curled up, and a sly smile surfaced on my face.

I minced closer and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to remove April’s earbuds. As I did, her eyes popped open in surprise.

I brought the buds to my ears and recognized the music, confirming my suspicion. A wide grin plastered my face, mirroring hers. The pounding of my heart intensified.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in.” April gave me a once-over, and a frown replaced her smile. She straightened her back and sat cross-legged. Was that worry in her eyes? “Are you okay?”

“You were listening to your song?” April flustered and gave me a shy look. “You know this is fucking hot, right?” She shrugged a little. My lips found hers, but she pushed me back, both hands on my chest. No way she’d miss the throbbing of my heart.

“No kissing. You said we needed to talk. I’m all ears.” April folded her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up, her shirt barely able to contain them, and cocked a brow, her lips pressed together.