C is for Carter: A Secret Baby Mountain Man Romance (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain) by Natasha L. Black

Author:Natasha L. Black [Black, Natasha L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

Lunchtime came rather soon after that, it felt. Work was busy and mostly quiet after I connected my phone to a wireless speaker and started playing some tunes. When the alarm went off to break for lunch, I turned the music off and stuffed the phone in my pockets.

“Alright, boys, let’s head up,” I said.

“Let’s take the truck,” Everett said. “I’m too damn tired to walk up that hill right now.”

“Fine by me,” I said. “I’m an old man with a bum knee, remember?”

“Old man,” Deacon said, laughing. “You know we tease you because it’s ridiculous, right? You could probably still outrun half the local high school track team if it weren’t for your knee.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sweet words now won’t stop you from owing me a lunch beer.”

“Deal,” Deacon said, hopping in the back seat.

I climbed into the passenger’s seat, which was my normal spot in both of their vehicles. They always let me sit there so I could extend the seat back and give my legs some extra room. I didn’t ever complain, but they seemed to know when I was struggling with my knee or my leg and would silently make accommodations for me. There was never an acknowledgment of it, the problem or the adjustments, and I appreciated that.

I even appreciated the teasing when that came too. I knew it came from a place of love, and they could take it as well as they could dish it out. And I dished it out often.

We pulled up to the trailer and went inside, grateful for the air-conditioning on blast. It was downright chilly in there, and I unbuttoned my shirt a little to let my chest air out while Deacon went to the fridge to grab us all cold waters.

“How about we head into town for lunch?” Everett asked as he plopped down on the couch. “I’m not feeling the salad I brought in.”

“You brought in a salad?” Deacon asked. “You know it’s not technically a salad just because there’s a strand of lettuce on your sandwich, right?”

“It’s an actual salad,” Everett said. “I eat real food sometimes, you know.”

“Since when?” Deacon asked, sounding either shocked or hurt. Since the two of them were known for eating large quantities of pizza for the last decade, I wouldn’t be surprised at either reaction.

“What do you say?” Everett asked, turning his attention to me and avoiding the gaze of a befuddled Deacon. “Let’s go have a beer somewhere in town.”

“Sure,” I said. “Lauren, why don’t you grab your stuff and come with us.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked sheepish, shaking her head slightly. Deacon and Everett began talking about which restaurant they could go to, and I leaned in close while Lauren’s eyes darted to them and then to me.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Sure, you can. Whatever you brought won’t be as good as hanging out with me.”

I wanted to sound suave and confident, but her expression looked like she was upset.

“I can’t,” she said, then lowered her voice even more.

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