Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Lacey

I need a reprieve from the tension. I leave Carter and Declan with Rose and escape outside. While the three of them huddled at the table, I grabbed a beer. The setting sun has given way to an inky dark sky. As I pinch the long-neck bottle and bring it to my lips, I look out at a night sky filled with hundreds of stars. I inhale deeply. It doesn't take long before the tension unravels, and a sense of ease lengthens my muscles.

The screen door slams.

"Where's your mother?" I ask as Carter comes up alongside me.

"Laying down."

His answer is short but so was my question. I'm not feeling particularly lovable toward him right now—or toward Declan, for that matter. He and his brother acted like two little brats, and they really pissed me off.

"What's the problem, Lace? You might as well spit it out now." He's curt.

"Lose the attitude, Carter." I turn, impatience rolling off me. "It is amazing to me that you feel so challenged—dare I say, even threatened—by Marisol. And don't tell me it's just that she's an 'unexpected' wrench in your plans. You resent her being here but, more than that, you resent her."

"Now, this is a first," he says as he draws his spine toward the back of the chair. "I would have thought you, of all people, wouldn't like someone so pretentious."

"Why 'me' of all people?"

"Because women like her always look down on women like you."

"Excuse me?" My eyes go wide. "Women like me?"

"Stop." He gives me a disapproving shake of his head and a look of warning. "You know what I mean. Don't take it out of context."

My head cocks and my eyes narrow. "Why don't you explain it to me like I'm five years old and you don't want to hurt my feelings."

"Great. Just great." He looks away.

"I'm serious."

"Okay; you're unpretentious. You're practical. You aren't into the manicured nails and the fancy hair."

"Oh, really. And that makes Marisol what, exactly?"

"I don't know ... glamorous. Extra. Designer. High maintenance."

"Okay, then." I turn away from him and take a very long drink.

He looks at me with a blank stare. "So, what is the problem? It was a compliment."

"I suppose you would think that telling me I'm not glamorous is a compliment. You need to work on those wooing skills, Carter. They're a bit below par."

He plops his feet up on the rail. "I do NOT understand females."

"You got that right."

"First Mom. Now you. Is it so much to ask for an easy vacation? That people and things can stay the way they're supposed to be and be appreciated as such?"

"No, it isn't too much to ask but, sometimes, plans change ... and sometimes change is better."

"Okay. Enlighten me; let's go to the subject of Marisol."

"Okay. Go."

"I get gut feelings about people and, the one I get from her, isn't good. She's not our kind of people. She's arrogant, high falutin', and patronizing. She's snobby, cocky, and seems a bit bossy. She's?—"

"Stop. I get it."

"So, tell me, how could a week with a woman who defines the word 'bitch' be a change for the better."

My brows quirk. "Declan is right; you are judgy."

"It wasn't hard." His forehead wrinkles. "She walked in here like she was the fucking queen."

"But you have no idea who she is, or what her culture is like ... You know nothing about her."

He looks away. "Pfft. I know enough."

"Now who's being the snob?" I huff.

His jaw clenches as he stares out into the pitch. I take a deep breath as I rein in my frustration. Maybe my nerves are raw because it's been a hell of a long day. The drive was around seven hours in total. Packing up ourselves and then Rose ... it made for a long trip. The unexpected Marisol, and Rose crying. I'm tired. I don't get frazzled like Carter and even I'm feeling the strain. Now this … But he loves me.

I let go of the tension and let the serene sound of soft waves take me to a place of simplicity. Carter's protective and annoyingly orderly. Sometimes it's suffocating but, it also can feel comforting to have someone else in control.

"I get it. You're worried about upsetting the family dynamic. But Marisol isn't the enemy here. She's just different." My words are soft and gentle to get through the defenses I'm sure he's put up.

He runs his hand through his hair and exhales a deep sigh. "It's just that, everything was planned. I don't want anything to get more complicated than it is." He avoids my gaze, vacantly staring off. "I've been looking forward to all of us being together for so long."

I sigh. I can't imagine what it feels like to be inside his head. To crave consistency and order in all things, and to feel like someone drops all the marbles when that sequencing isn't present.

Feeling both my anger and his frustration abating in the placidity of the evening, we sit in companionable silence as the night air envelops us in a comfortable, cool embrace.

"Let's try to give Marisol a chance, okay? For Declan's sake. Maybe, she isn't as bad as your gut is telling you. Maybe the supermodel thing hasn't gone to her head and she's just a simple girl."

"Yeah, right," he chuckles. "My gut hasn't failed me yet when it comes to first impressions. I don't know why it would start now."

"C'mon. Humor me," I coax. "After all, your brother is the hottest thing in modeling, and he's still just Declan. No matter how big a billboard he's on, nothing's going to change that."

Carter smiles at me. He stands and holds out his hand.

"What?" I ask, feeling coy.

"Stand up and take my hand."

It's so still. The quiet scene blends with the alcohol and, when I stand, I feel a little off balance. He catches my hand and pulls me into him, then sways.

"What are you doing?"

"Dancing." His arm comes around my waist.

"There's no music." Our eyes lock and I fall into the tenderness I see there.

"Sure, there is. Hear it?"

I catch my bottom lip with my teeth. "All I hear is the ocean."

"That's it. It's playing just for us."

We rock back and forth, moving with small, incremental steps in a circular motion.

"Someday, when I'm awfully low ..."

I smile. "You're singing my favorite song from my favorite movie."

"I know. My Best Friend's Wedding ."

"And the Tony Bennett version. Not Frank's."

"The moment I met you, my gut said, 'This one's special.' I've never second-guessed that first impression."

"No? Not even because I'm so plain?"

"You aren't plain. You're the girl next door. An all-American beauty. Natural. Perfect."

"Now, you're flattering me."

"It's the truth, and I'm telling you because I love you."

He kisses me and the world falls away.