Reagan pulled to a stop outside the farmhouse. The waiting, the worry, and the stress she’d put on herself and Carter was gone. She bounded inside the house and headed straight for the shower. Reagan reached into the stone-tiled shower and turned on one of the two showerheads. Her heart sang and her body danced as she plugged in her phone to charge and hooked it up to the Bluetooth speakers. She loved Carter and he loved her. Sometimes life really was that simple. The dancing, the affection, the partnership . . . she could have it all. Her own love story was in reach, she just had to take it. And she planned to. She was going to tell Carter how much she loved him, and no matter how annoying her father was, she wanted Carter in her life and heart forever.
Reagan reached down and pulled off the Keeneston Air polo shirt and jeans she’d been wearing as she danced to the music. She reached behind her and shook her shoulders to unclasp her bra when her hands grabbed another pair of hands instead of her bra. She gasped and spun around ready to take someone down when she found a smiling and sweaty Carter standing there.
“I was just helping.” He winked as he placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around so that her back leaned against his chest. In seconds, her bra was on the floor along with her panties. Reagan looked down at the two tanned hands cupping her breasts and leaned back with pleasure. Carter had her back in more ways than one.
“I love you, Rea,” Carter whispered in her ear as his lips trailed a blazing path down her neck while his fingers worked magic on her body. “So much so that I think I’ll join you tomorrow. It’ll be just like when we first started dating.”
“Oh, Carter. I’ve been so stupid,” Reagan told him. She couldn’t take her eyes off his hands on her breasts. The way his fingers moved slowly around her nipples, the way his hands were rough and tan while her breasts were smooth and fair. They complemented each other in so many ways. He was calm and patient to offset her redheaded temper. She pushed him outside of his comfort zone to try new things. They weren’t opposites, they just filled in each other’s missing pieces to be whole.
“I love you too, Carter. I’m upset about what happened, but not because of my feelings for you. I’m upset because I should have been stronger sooner. I should have stood up to my father instead of hiding from him. If I have you, I know we’ll be just fine no matter what the world throws at us.”
Carter’s hands stilled and he wrapped them around her and pulled her tightly against his chest. Reagan felt his lips press against the top of her head as he stood silently, holding her to him for a moment. “I’m not upset. I’m glad I had this time to know you the way I have. I’ll never regret anything with you, Reagan.”
Carter released her and stepped back to pull off his shirt. He smirked at her and slapped her bottom as he headed for the shower. “Wanna join me? I have an errand before we meet at the Blossom Café, so I don’t have much time.”
Reagan followed him into the bathroom and watched him step into the shower. Through the glass door, she watched the water run over his trimmed hair, over his square jaw, across broad shoulders to form a little stream of water that went from the center of his chest down over the ridges of his abs and then . . . well, what the hell was she doing standing out here?
* * *
“You need a dog,” Reagan’s cousin Sydney told her as Reagan took a seat at a table occupied by her girlfriends at the Blossom Café. When she’d arrived at the only restaurant in town, Carter wasn’t back from his errands yet. Not one for carrying a purse, Reagan set her keys down at a table for two and joined the nearby table filled with her cousins and her friend, Aniyah.
The Blossom Café was full of colors. Pinks, blues, yellows, whites, oranges, and reds—it was an explosion of colorful tablecloths covered with glass tops and mix-matched chairs. It was also gossip central. And the second Reagan walked in, she’d been swarmed with questions on marriage dates, engagement talk, and if she were possibly pregnant. No. No. And no way!
Sydney ran a fashion house and home decorating empire. She had everything from bathing suits to bedroom furniture with her name on it. But sitting at the table with her cousin, you’d never know she was on the Forbes list. Her long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail. She wore jeans, a Keeneston High Football T-shirt, and no makeup. Next to her was their cousin Piper, who had come directly from her lab in Lexington. She had on scrubs, and the safety glasses she had forgotten were shoved up on her head like a hairband. That was her standard work attire in the lab where she worked with viruses and nanotechnology. She usually changed out of the scrubs to come home. And when she was home, Piper was in the same outfit Reagan wore—jeans, T-shirts, and flip-flops. The table rounded out with Aniyah, who looked like a million bucks compared to the Davies cousins. Aniyah was wearing diamond stud earrings, a beautiful blouse, and a cute fitted skirt that stopped above her knees, allowing her to show off her strappy high-heeled sandals.
“What do I need a dog for?” Reagan asked. Sydney had a Vizsla named Robyn. Robyn wasn’t a dog. She was a human in a dog’s body.
“You and Carter have been together for over a year. It’s either a dog or a baby in the eyes of the town. Trust me, the dog is the perfect excuse for delaying said baby everyone is already thinking you should have,” Sydney told her as if everyone knew that.
“Aniyah doesn’t have a dog,” Reagan pointed out.
“My sugarbear is allergic. I want to get a blanket made out of poodle hair and sneak it into the house to prove to him we could have a poodle. Can’t you see me with a poodle?”
No one was surprised. In fact, a poodle was the most natural dog for Aniyah. “Yes,” they all responded.
“Rumor has it Nikki found a puppy on the side of the road yesterday and is looking for a home for it,” Piper said before taking a sip of her sweet tea.
“Nikki? As in the queen bitch of the Keeneston Belles? She didn’t sacrifice it to the husband-hunting gods?” Reagan asked with disbelief. The Keeneston Belles was a group of all of the most popular women from high school who joined after graduating. It started as a charitable organization but was really a husband-hunters club. Nikki Canter was their president. She’d been fending off a coup by Addison Rooney for the past six months or so, and it was starting to affect Nikki in unseen ways—like stopping to rescue a puppy. Even so, no one wanted to deal with Nikki if they didn’t have to. She was over-injected, over-fluffed, overinflated, and overboard in every way imaginable.
“Yup. Nora from the Fluff and Buff told me when she called to confirm my haircut appointment,” Piper said.
“Robyn would love to have a cousin to play with,” Sydney said of her dog. “And I bet Bridget could train it as well as Robyn, especially when you’re away and Carter’s at the race track for the day.”
“And Robyn really likes it at Bridget’s?” Reagan asked, liking the idea more and more. She’d always wanted to get a dog, but with her schedule she thought it would be unfair to the dog.
“She loves it. Bridget is the best with dogs,” Sydney said of their parents’ friend. Bridget Mueez was married to Ahmed, the former head of security for the Ali Rahman royal family living in Keeneston. Ahmed retired and went into the horse business with Mo. His wife, on the other hand, started a military and police dog training facility that was soon to be merged with a military and police training center her father and some other family members were starting. “She’s taught Robyn search-and-rescue as well as several of the police commands. The other day, Robyn pinned some poor teenager to the brick wall outside the bank after smelling a joint on him.”