All of You (A Well Paired Novel Book 7) Read online

  Carter pocketed his phone and tilted his head to the side and studied her. She resisted the urge to tuck a loose fly-away behind her ear and kept her gaze locked on his, not letting him see how much he affected her.

  “I don’t think that will work. We artists need to put our heads together so we can create the best product for our customers.”

  “Aren’t you one of our customers?”

  Carter shook his head slowly. “Not yet, Miss Webster. You haven’t sold me on your photography skills just yet. Ben and Alexis had you all afternoon. You’ll need to spend the same amount of time with me to ... satisfy my curiosity.”

  “For the love of God, Carter.” Brady shoved his shoulder against Carter, pushing him aside. “Ignore my brother. I trust Ben and Alexis’ judgement, but I’ll need to go over our marketing budget and see a proposal from you before we commit.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Great.” Carter pushed his way in front of Brady. “Why don’t you and I get together on Tuesday and hash out a plan.”

  “I thought you were booked through Wednesday?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “For you, Hailey, I can make time.”

  Too much warmth, too many tingles, and too many negative associations shivered through her body. With a toss of her head, she huffed out, “I’m busy.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Carter didn’t know what he’d done to piss Hailey off, but she’d flipped on her stay-the-hell-away-from-me switch, nearly blinding him with attitude. Instead of sticking around and annoying her even more, he headed home to shower before having dinner at his brother’s. He didn’t like people not liking him, but at the same time he knew when to back off.

  Sort of. If he’d done something wrong, he wanted to know about it. If he said something insulting, he was the type of guy who wanted to be told. While his mom always said he came off as happy-go-lucky, he did have feelings.

  He’d always been more like his dad and Brady more like their mom. His memories of his father were limited, and every year those memories were harder and harder to recall. Being only twelve when his dad passed, the selection was limited to holidays and working in the field.

  Or rather, Brady and his father working side-by-side while Carter was constantly reprimanded for wandering off. He did his share of chores, but nothing more, nothing less. In that manner, he was nothing like anyone in his family, but he remembered his dad to be the one to have the family sit downs, the one to ask the boys about how they were feeling.

  Sure, Mom did as well, but Dad started it. Mom would hug and kiss booboos, while Dad would squeeze his shoulder, crouch down so he could look Carter in the eye, and ask him what was really bothering him.

  Dad wanted to know about bullies, girls, about Carter’s plans for his future. Not even a teenager yet, and his father had already seen the lack of the farming gene in him. It didn’t make him feel less worthy; instead, Dad would prod him to talk about his interests.

  In middle school, students had been introduced to technology. He had his own laptop assigned to him at school. He’d gotten into trouble more than once for exploring what the computer was capable of well beyond the teacher-assigned tasks in class.

  The computer had become a major distraction, keeping him from his assignments, and he’d served at least a dozen detentions for being off-task. While his mother had sat down with him at the kitchen table to help him get caught up on work he’d missed, it had been his father who asked about what he had been doing on the computer.

  The teacher had set up a class blog, and Carter ventured off discovering he could make his own website for free. He’d set up Carter’s Cruisers and posted—illegally, he later learned—pictures of cars and motorcycles and four-wheelers pretending they were on sale. He even wrote text for each vehicle, embellishing the capabilities and engine size. It was just for fun, he’d thought.

  Until someone had called the number he put on his fake website. The school number. He had no idea his website was public to the world. “A learning experience,” his dad had said.

  Chuckling at the memory, Carter parked his side-by-side in the garage and shucked his dirty boots and jeans in the entryway of his house. He took a quick shower—only long enough to scrub off the day’s work—then dried off and yanked on a clean pair of jeans.

  Dinner at Grace and Brady’s was never a fancy affair, except on the holidays. His mom had never been the fancy type, which suited him and Brady just fine, but Grace liked to pretty up the special meals. Since she was the high heels and glam type, it hadn’t surprised any of them.

  She never snubbed her nose down at Carter and Brady’s mom for wearing her typical plaid button-down shirt—her idea of dressed up—to Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone accepted each other, but Carter still liked to tease his sister-in-law for teetering around the old farmhouse in a pair of spiky heels.

  Even though it was as far out of Brady’s element as spreading margarine from a tub on a piece of filet mignon, his brother tried his best to impress his fashionable bride.

  Carter tugged on a gray T-shirt with a large green Celtics emblem on the front and ran his fingers through his hair. A Monday night dinner in May meant he didn’t have to feel guilty about not taking out his khakis and button down. He’d worn them last month for Easter brunch at Coastal Vines. It wouldn’t be until November that he’d have to take them out again.

  Reaching for his John Deere baseball cap, he hesitated, then let out a sigh. He’d just have to take it off for dinner, and with his hair still wet, and two weeks past its regular haircut, he’d have funky hat-head. Not that he cared. Much.

  No hats at dinner had been a Marshall family rule since he was a toddler. Probably before that. Carter skipped on the aftershave. One, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and two, there was nobody to impress. Hitting on Grace in front of his brother never got old, but he didn’t need to smell good to do that.

  Revving up his ATV, he strapped on his helmet and rode up to the main house. One more week of farm work and then he could get back in the dating game again. His winter had been crazy ass busy with rebuilding websites, coming up with new branding for companies, and he even started a new service managing social media accounts. It was easy money, only a bit time consuming.

  Spring and summer, if they continued the same trend as the past few years, would slow down a bit. Winter seemed to be the time when businesses had time to think about revamping and building websites.

  Spring sales, summer specials, he had everything ready to go for his clients. He always had a ton to do but was starting to get bored with the scenery. One great thing about his job was that he could do it from anywhere. Only he had nowhere to go.

  He’d love to book an Airbnb somewhere different for a few weeks. It didn’t have to be far. Somewhere in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, or even the Allagash in Maine. Or heck, Canada. Four hours in his truck and he could be in the friendly country to the north. But he didn’t have anyone to join him, which was good for getting work done. Bad for downtime.

  He wouldn’t mind going alone; he made friends everywhere he went. But he’d want to go hiking, ride his four-wheeler, go zip lining; anything outdoorsy, and doing that was much better with someone else, and all his friends were married off.

  Time for a new circle of friends? No. He liked his people. Carter pulled up close to the side entrance of the farmhouse and turned off his machine. Hailey’s car was still in the driveway. Not that he’d been gone for long, but he was surprised she’d stuck around for the past hour.

  Now that he thought about it, a weekend getaway with a woman would be nice too. As long as she was into everything he was into. Or maybe not. He wouldn’t scoff at the idea of rolling around on a mattress for forty-eight hours, even if that defeated the purpose of being in the great outdoors.

  After unstrapping his helmet, he ran his hand through his still-damp hair and saddled up to the door.

  “Knock, knock,” he said as
he let himself in. It had become a common courtesy to knock since Grace had moved in. He’d yet to catch his brother and his wife in an indecent situation, especially since their mother lived on the property, but he didn’t want there to be a first time.

  Ever.

  Seeing his brother in his birthday suit wasn’t high on his list of Top Ten Views. However, catching Grace prancing around the house in nothing but a bikini and high heels wouldn’t be something he’d mind witnessing.

  “Hope you’re still that happy when you taste my chicken tacos,” the object of his fantasy said. Wearing jeans with rips in the thighs and a loose T-shirt—Brady’s, of course—Grace was an image, alright.

  “I was hoping you’d be serving us in one of those cute outfits from your store.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Brady smacked him on the back of the head. “And don’t look at my wife that way.”

  “You’re forgetting I saw her naked before you ever did.”

  “Good Lord, not this again.” Grace shook her head and went back to doing whatever she was doing at the stove.

  The joke would never get old. Like, never. Granted it was all pretty innocent and back in their high school days when they’d all been drunk playing strip poker in the blueberry bushes. Still, Carter made a point of reminding his brother about it. Regularly.

  “Find yourself your own woman.” Brady put his hands on Grace’s hips and tugged her into him. A territorial move which was completely unnecessary.

  “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.” He snorted. Carter would never even think about touching another man’s wife or girlfriend, especially his brother’s.

  “You’ll have to forgive my son. He hasn’t reached puberty yet,” his mom said from the archway to the living room.

  Carter turned toward her—toward them—his grin dropping when he saw Hailey. He knew she was in the house, but the thought of Grace in a bikini, well, it momentarily blew a few brain cells.

  “I saw what it did to Brady and wasn’t impressed.” Yeah, said brain cells hadn’t made their way back into his head yet.

  “Since your schedule is so booked, I invited Hailey to dinner so we could hash out the details, cost, and a proposal tonight.” Brady handed Carter a stack of plates. “This saves her from having to be in a room alone with you as well.”

  Carter took the plates and cast a quick glance at Hailey to read her reaction. The lift in her eyebrow told him she was still trying to figure out the dynamics of his family. While he didn’t mind being the butt of jokes, he didn’t want Hailey to think him a flake either.

  “Brady’s no good with things like his ABCs and 123s, so he needs me here to read for him and do the basic math.”

  “You’ll have to forgive my sons.” His mother placed a hand on Hailey’s shoulder and guided her to the table. “They get like this when there’s a pretty girl in the house.”

  Hailey still hadn’t said a word and sat where his mother had directed.

  “You should have seen them a few years ago when I first started coming around. There were times when I thought a brawl was going to start in the middle of the kitchen,” Grace laughed.

  “Oh, I don’t... I’m just here for business.” Hailey shook her head as if the thought of her and Carter was a definite no. As in No. Way. In. Hell.

  He tried not to be insulted.

  “It doesn’t matter.” His mom took the seat next to Hailey, and Carter set the plates around the table. “You’re a beautiful woman, so my son is going to show off.”

  “Mom.” If Carter was the blushing kind, he’d be an impressive shade of pink right about now. A matching pink to Hailey’s cheeks.

  “Please.” His mother waved a hand at him. “Don’t argue and don’t apologize for who you are. Let’s enjoy this meal Grace has put together for us, and then you boys can talk with Hailey about a business plan. She showed me some of her images from Coastal Vines. Her work is stunning.”

  “And I got to see a sneak peek of Mia’s wedding pictures. Wow.” Grace set the pot of meat in the middle of the table and slapped a hand over her heart. “I wish you were around when Brady and I got married. Maybe we’ll do a photoshoot. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  Grace rested her head on Brady’s shoulder. His brother’s pallor changed significantly, and Carter couldn’t help but bust out a laugh. “I think it’s a fabulous idea.”

  “Shut it,” Brady growled.

  Carter glanced at the bowls of shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, black olives, beans, shredded cheese, and sour cream. “I thought it was steak night?”

  “We’ve been eating too much red meat lately, so I made chicken tacos instead,” Grace said, setting a pot of brown rice on the table.

  Carter flicked his wrist and made a whip sound at his brother. Ducking the dirty looks from his mother and Grace, he made quick work setting the glasses, silverware, and napkins around the table and took his seat across from Hailey. She looked good at their family table. Her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin. The pink tinge in her cheeks had faded a bit. If she hadn’t been looking down at her lap, he’d be able to see those mesmerizing eyes.

  “Beverages?” his mother asked.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Carter.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He pushed back his chair and brushed an apologetic kiss on his mom’s cheek. “Hailey, what can I get you to drink?” She lifted her head, and her gaze locked with his, nearly knocking him on his ass. Something between insecurity, embarrassment, and humor filled her eyes.

  “Um, water is fine; thank you.”

  “I’m going to open a bottle of white,” Grace said. “Would you like a glass? It’s from Coastal Vines.”

  “No. No thank you. Water is fine.”

  Carter filled Hailey’s glass of water. “Ice?”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  “I got it,” he said to Grace, taking the bottle from her. He opened it and took down two wine glasses. “Mom?”

  “I’ll have a glass; thank you.” She filled her plate with a heaping of rice and two tacos.

  He poured the wine and took out two bottles of beer, placing one in front of his brother and the other next to his plate.

  “I don’t want to hear any grumbling from you two. We’re trying something new. It’s ground chicken. I seasoned it so it tastes the same as burger. You’ll like it.”

  Gone was the insecure Grace who used to test out her recipes on them. He and Brady—more Brady than him—had sampled their share of blundered recipes, but over the years Grace had turned into a pretty decent cook.

  “I haven’t had regular tacos in ages. I actually prefer ground chicken. I’m sure these will taste fabulous.” Hailey made two small tacos and loaded them with vegetables.

  Grace beamed across the table at Hailey. “I like her.” She pointed at Carter with her fork and lifted her brow in warning. “Don’t do anything to scare her away.”

  Like he had any control over Hailey’s comings and goings. He held up his hands, signaling his innocence. “What? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You will,” Brady grumbled under his breath.

  Grace turned her attention to Hailey while he and Brady shoveled food onto their plates. “You’ll have to forgive my brother-in-law. He likes to be the center of attention and often speaks from...” Grace whirled her fork in the air before pointing it to Carter’s lap.

  “Hey now,” he objected, quite loudly.

  “Let’s not overdo it tonight,” his mother came to his defense. “We’re here to listen to Hailey’s plans for improving the farm’s website; not to inform her on Carter’s way with women.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He sighed and shoved a taco in his mouth. Carter’s snort from across the table earned a smile on Hailey’s lips.

  He’d take one for the team. If getting picking on earned him a smile like that, he’d take it. As long as all the jabs didn’t make her scared to take a chance with him.

  Carter slowed his chewing. Take a cha
nce on him? Since when did he want a woman to take a chance on him? All he wanted was a few dates. Some naked time. A few laughs. Taking a chance meant something more.

  Something a whole helluva lot more than he wanted.

  HAILEY ’S CHEEKS SHOULDN’T hurt so much after a business meeting. When she'd pulled into the farm earlier, she hadn’t expected to see Carter. Especially in a wet T-shirt that molded his muscles more than it should have.

  She dried her hands and looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The Marshall bathroom was adorable with its guest soaps and hand towels and antique sink. Grace had told her about some of the renovations they’d done recently, keeping the rustic farm feel but fixing the slanted floor, the running toilets, and aging plumbing.

  Never had she laughed as she had tonight. Sitting on the Marshall family sofa listening to tales of all the antics Brady and Carter—mostly Carter—got into when they were children and teens was the most fun she’d had in ages. She didn’t have any stories to share of her and Jack. They’d always done their own thing.

  Mrs. Marshall had given her the history of the farm, most of which Hailey already read on their website, and sang her sons’ praises in stepping in for their father after he passed away. With the exception of Carter’s four years in the military, he’d been part of every process of expanding the small blueberry farm to what it was today.

  Apple and peach trees, pumpkin patches, raspberries, wagon rides, straw mazes, and baked goods in the summer and fall. They’d turned a small farm into an experience, a tradition many families had been incorporating into their lives for years.

  Hailey wanted to capture it all, which would take time. It was the slow season with little to no tourists and no crops ready to pick, but that meant they could do a lot of work behind the scenes.

  Patting her cheeks again, she left the bathroom and rejoined the family in the living room. Mrs. Marshall had retreated to her apartment connected to the backside of the house.

  “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious, Grace.”