Drive Me Crazy

“Always thought you were more beauty than brains, Ambrose.” Chase smirked. “Guess I was right.”



Maybe he should let go of Beau and let the kid kick Chase’s ass. It would be Chase’s word against theirs, and Carter had the hometown advantage. “That cryptic shit might work on women, but it doesn’t on me.”



“We’re brothers.”



“Excuse me?”



“Half-brothers,” Beau muttered.



Carter looked from Chase, then at Beau. But for the kid’s lip ring, their faces was nearly identical. “I’ll be damned.” Same color eyes and he’d bet that green dye covered up dark blonde. “Same dad or mom?”



“His dad cheated with my mom while she was on leave from Afghanistan. Lying bastard didn’t bother to tell her his real name or that he was married. Didn’t bother coming to her funeral either.” Beau wrenched out of Carter’s grip and stalked inside the garage, calling over his shoulder, “Stay the hell away from me.”



Carter swiped a hand over his face. “So what’s your version?”



Grey eyes turned hard in direct contrast to the casual shrug of shoulders. “You know Remington.”



Yeah, Carter knew all about Chase’s dad. He was a womanzing son of a bitch that humiliated his wife daily, and publicly announced that Chase would never be one of the greats.“Beau thinks you’re just like him.”



Chase’s brows lifted. “He’s not too far off in his assessment.”



“Remington wouldn’t be here, and not to be real obvious, but he’s not and you are.” Carter gave him an appraising glance. “You never struck me as the messenger boy type.” Quasi-buddy or not, old rivalries died hard and any chance Carter could get in a dig, he would. “But like you said, I’m more beauty than brains.”



His quasi-buddy’s lips thinned and he let his arms fall. “Speaking of people not here—where’s your girl?”



That was a damn good question, and one Carter wanted an answer. But no one seemed inclined to share it with him, not even Zoe. “What do you need with Beau?”



“Doesn’t concern you.” Chase’s eyes shifted to a spot over Carter’s shoulder, right where the garage opened and Beau cleaned. “It’s between us.”



Carter took three steps, standing toe to toe with Chase. “Leave the kid alone.”



“Not happening.” Chase kept his eyes on Beau. “He’s going to accept what’s owed him, whether he likes it or not.”



“How’s that strategy been working for you so far?” Instead of answering, Chase pivoted and headed to his truck. “Why don’t you try talking to Beau, instead of shoving what’s owed to him down his throat?” Carter asked.



Chase gave him a one-fingered salute as he opened the door. “Later, Ambrose.”



Carter shook his head, a small smile playing on his mouth. “Later.”



“By the way…”—Chase paused, halfway inside his truck—“April and I hooked up before the two of you got together. She never cheated on you, not that I know about.” Then Chase climbed inside, shutting the door and starting up his vehicle.



It really didn’t matter to Carter what April might or might not have done, but he appreciated the information. He turned, slowly walking back to the garage. Beau was sweeping the floor, his mouth flat and his brow pinched. Bright green hair stuck out everywhere. Every now and then he’d suck that god-awful lip ring into his mouth. Must run in the family, because Chase had a pierced tongue.



Whatever floated people’s boats, he guessed.



Carter dug the check out of his pocket. “Here’s your check.”



Beau stopped sweeping long enough to glance at him, grab the check and shove it in his back pocket. “Thanks.” He strode to the right side of the garage and hung the broom on a hook, zipped up his jacket and pulled the hood over his head.



“Have a good weekend.”



Beau spun around. “You’re not going to tell me I’m wrong?”



“About what?”



“Taking that asshole’s money.”



Carter blew out a breath. “Look, kid, you have to do what’s right for you.”



“Uncle Stanley says I should take it, because without it, I’ll be stuck here my entire life.”



“It’s not so bad in Holland Springs.”



Beau snorted. “Then why are you so hell-bent on getting out?”



“I’m not.” Beau shot him a look of disbelief. “Okay, I was, but now I’m not…and I like my hometown. But I also think your uncle’s right. There are a lot of people around here that have never been anywhere.” People like Melanie who had a damn trip jar. His gut clenched. “People who would give anything for the money and the opportunity.”



Beau shook his head, his grey eyes clouded. “It’s not just the money. Remington wants me to come live with them in Forestville. I don’t want to switch schools in the middle of the year again. But I can’t live with Uncle Stanley and his family forever, you know? We had to move because he lost his job, and the one he has now pays a lot less. There are four other kids besides me and we all live in a three bedroom singlewide.” He rubbed the heel of his hand on his forehead. “I hate this. I hate him.”



“When I was little and my mom was still alive, Remington used to come around and give me all this NASCAR stuff. It’s his fault I love racing,” Beau added, as if admitting some deep dark secret.



“He bought your Sprint car?” Carter asked. Remington had made Chase buy his vehicles, had bragged all the time about making his son to start on the bottom rung in his company.



Beau shook his head. “Traded my mom’s old Firebird for it. Guy wasn’t interested in racing anymore.”



The school bus dropped Beau off every afternoon and his uncle picked him up once he got off work. Carter chuckled. “Guess not having a ride makes dating tough.”



“Not for me. Girls pick me up,” Beau said with an expression that made him look like Chase’s twin. “Sometimes I even let them pay—equal rights and all.”



“That’s a pussy move and you know it.” Carter crossed his arms. “If you can’t afford to pay or pick them up, you need to keep your ass at home until you can.” Jesus Christ, someone needed to school this kid on how to treat women. Or girls. Whatever.



Beau rolled his eyes. “Dude, I was yanking your chain. I always pay and I borrow Uncle Stanley’s truck. My mother raised me right.”



“You need your own ride.”



“Maybe if my boss paid me a little more, I could afford one.” Carter pretended to lunge for his employee and he ducked out of the way.



Laughing, Carter said, “You’re a little shit, you know that?”



“Ladies love it.” Beau smirked, then his shoulders and that cocky grin dropped. “Carter…I can’t take his money. I just can’t.”



“Taking his money doesn’t mean you have to start going to Olan Mills for family portraits, or even family dinners after church.”



“Yeah, but living with him might.” A ghost of smile flickered on Beau’s face. “Seriously, what would you do?”



Carter looked off into the distance, allowing his eyes to focus on the parking lot that was missing her car. “I’d figured out what I wanted most in this life, and start down the path that would lead me to it.”



***



Carter stood outside of Melanie’s house in the pouring rain, but he didn’t give a damn. For two fucking weeks, he’d given her space. For two fucking weeks, he’d only texted her when necessary, like when he couldn’t find a file he needed. Or when he had wondered if he should get a Twitter account.



Unfortunately, communication with that stubborn ass woman had only progressed to her answering him via his sister.



At least he knew she was reading his texts. Yeah, that made it so much better.



“What the hell do you want, boy?” Louis growled as he opened the door.



Carter shielded his eyes from the porch light. “Where is she?”



Louis leaned against the doorframe. The television hummed in the background and blue flickering lights were the only illumination in the place. “Like I said the other day, Melanie’s not here.”



“I heard you the first time.” Carter swiped a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t know what Melanie told you about me and her, but—”



“Son, you’d better carry your ass, before I put my size twelve boot up it.” Louis stepped down. “Mrs. Gregory told me about that fancy car of yours being here all night long.”



“I respect your daughter, sir. And I respect your right to kick my ass, but I’m not going until I find out where she is,” Carter said, lifting his chin and bracing for the first punch.



“You’re not going to find out a damn thing from me.” Another step down and now the rain fell on Louis. “I know your kind. Take a girl out, sweet talk her, let her drive you car and then knock her up before you leave her high and dry. Only my girl was too smart for you.”



She was also stubborn as hell, too. But Carter didn’t figure Louis wanted his opinion on the matter. “I get it. Someone took advantage of your cousin or sister or some female relative and I’m real sorry about that. But—”



Louis shoved him, the strong smell of Jack Daniels invading Carter’s senses. “Not some relative. It was Bobbie Ann and I’m not going to let it happen to her daughter.”



“What do you mean Bobbie Ann’s daughter?”



“Melanie ain’t mine, not by blood anyway.” Louis swayed to one side. “But I made a promise to look after her. So I did.”



All this time, people, including Carter, had thought Louis was a no good, shifty loser that couldn’t commit to a radio station. “Does she know?”



“’Course she does. I don’t keep secrets from her.”



Well, she sure as hell had kept it from him. Although it really wasn’t anyone’s business, including his. Especially his. But he wanted it to be. He wanted every little thing about her to be his business. Rain dripped from the roof onto his nose. “Sir, I know you don’t like my kind, but I’d like to have a conversation with you. A serious one about your daughter. One that involves me making a promise to you about taking care of her, like a man should.”



“A man who respects her should,” he added, just in case Louis got the wrong idea.



Louis narrowed his eyes at Carter, reminding him so much of Melanie in that moment that he wasn’t sure she wasn’t Louis daughter by blood.



Finally a smile broke over his face and he clapped Carter on the back. “Come on in, son. Let’s get you dry and have a drink.”



“This mean you’re going to tell me where Melanie is?”



“That all depends on you, son, that all depends on you.”



The door shut behind Carter.



Chapter Nineteen



It had been almost three weeks since Melanie had last spoken to Carter, but as she entered the town limits of Holland Springs, a fresh wound on her heart exposed itself.



Years would need to pass before she’d be able to get over him. Maybe more if he didn’t stop trying to re-friend her on facebook or sending her private messages that she refused to read. And if he invited her play Scrabble with Friends one more dang time, she was going to choke him with some real life Scrabble pieces. Only that would require her actually seeing him and then she’d be right back where she started.



Her cell phone rang, the tune identifying her best friend as the caller.



“Remind me why I agreed to work on Valentine’s Day?” Melanie made a left onto Pine Drive. Jack’s restaurant stood on the right, the parking lot already full.



“Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” Zoe said, her voice teasing though the cell phone.



“Apparently.” Melanie pulled her car into her usual parking spot at the back of the restaurant and cut the engine. “You and Gabriel going out tonight?”



“Nope.”



Uh-oh. “Did y’all break up again?”



“No.” Zoe laughed, but it sounded a little strained. “I thought I’d be available in case my best friend needed me after she got off of work.”



Thankful for her friend, Melanie closed her eyes and said a little prayer. “I’ll bring the dessert. There should be tons of leftovers. Last year, the pastry chef screwed up the order and we ran out. This year, Jack had her make twice as much.”



“Yum-my. See you later.”



Melanie opened the car door. “Bye.” She grabbed her purse and dropped her phone inside of it, then started for the restaurant.



Jack met her at the back door, his large frame taking up most of it. “Change of plans.”



Shrugging out of her coat, she threw it over her shoulder and secured her ponytail more tightly. “You don’t need me?”



“I wish,” he said, his brown eyes teasing. His bark was always worse than his actual bite. “Anyway, some big shot has rented out the entire back section and—”



“You want me to take care of him?” She brushed past Jack and headed inside. Kneeling down by the flatware station, she shoved her coat and purse under it. Then she grabbed her apron, looped the straps around and tied it in the front. “No problem.”



“Slow up.” Jack’s booming voice made her freeze in place. “The guy’s already in there, but his woman is running a little late, as usual.”