Her CEO Stalker and Her Second Chance Mate Chapter 22

Briar

I woke to the sound of a truck coming down the gravel drive. It had been another restless night filled with lucid dreams. My body ached as I rolled off the couch, and slid my hand into my boot, grabbing my knife, my heart pounded in my chest as I crept towards the door. Creedon wasn’t taking me again. I would end myself before he could touch me, or I’d slice his balls off before I ever let him touch me again. The anxiety made me nauseous and I wanted to hurl as I stretched up to check out the peephole for any movement. What I saw was Carter’s truck. I sagged in relief and threw open the door, not giving a damn about the fact that I was wearing the tweety bird tee and boyshorts, hair in disarray.

“You sure know how to give a girl a heart attack,” I hollered, as he pulled out a bag of charcoal, hefting it over his shoulder, his other reaching for a bag of groceries. The knife still in my grasp, he eyed me out of the corner of his eye.

“Miss Anderson, are you threatening an officer of the law?” he drawled, coming around the back of his truck.

I twirled the knife, effortlessly tossed it up and caught it. “Depends.”

Carter eyed me, his lips kicked up into a grin as he watched the knife move in my hands. “I see Jake taught you a thing or two about knives,” he chuckled. “Now do I need to go get my handcuffs and detain you or are you going to let me make you breakfast, and yes, I brought the coffee.” I flicked the blade closed and shrugged innocently. 

A bark sounded from the cab and my eyes jerked to it. Carter set the bags on the porch step and rubbed the back of his neck. “I brought my dog, if that’s ok?” I shrugged. 

“Don’t bother me none, long as he ain’t gonna eat my face off. I’d rather you not leave her locked up in there,” I said, letting my hands fall to my side as he made his way back to the truck. I stared at him as he had a full blown conversation with the dog about manners and leaving a good impression. As far as I could see and hear, which wasn’t much, before he opened the door and a blue heeler jumped out glancing around and padding right up to me with a wagging tail. I crouched down on her level and offered a hand. She sniffed it tentatively, and then I opened my arms in invitation and soon was giving her belly rubs.

“Who are you, sweet girl?” I cooed at her, as I scratched her chest with my right hand after passing my knife into my left hand.

“That would be Rosie, the only woman in my house. She likes rope toys and shredding your socks and underwear if you leave her alone too long, so I figured I’d save my laundry and bring her with me.” Carter said, leaning against the porch post. I looked up at him in the soft morning light filtering from the trees. He wore a tight black tee that stretched across his defined chest and a loose, faded pair of jeans, worn low, and a belt, the only thing holding his pants above his fine ass. Did I really just think that? I shook my head. Right now, that should be the last thing on my mind. However, in this light, I had to admit, Carter was quite the hunky specimen of the male race.

I stood up then, suddenly self-conscious. “Come on in, I haven’t done much with the place yet, but the grill is out back,” I said, pushing through the front door and holding it open. When I closed the door behind him, my heartbeat hammered in my ears. Rosie followed me as I walked to the back door and pulled up the old broom handle I had wedged there since I had found the lock not working. 

“I see you’re being careful,” Carter observed. 

I shrugged. “When the only man who you gave an opportunity to break you, did so, and will never pay for it, you get a little bit paranoid,” I pointed out. Carter’s jaw clenched, and his breath came out as if he was counting seconds. Was he mad? I unlocked the broken latch out of habit and pushed open the door. The breeze off the back of the house pushed inside as Carter stepped out. Rosie sat at my feet. Carter cocked his head looking at her. Her tail thumped, Carter rolled his eyes and walked down to the grill, which was set up on a deck out behind the house. The deck was actually impressive, stretching out quite a ways over the terrain. I had found its view breathtaking. I shut the door halfway so that Rosie could come and go as she pleased. The bugs weren’t as bad here as they were in the Carolinas. I set the knife on the counter with a sigh before gathering a pair of jeans and a black halter and disappearing into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth with a bottle of water, however the room spun and the nausea from earlier, and the stress of thinking I was found had me dry heaving over the toilet when I tried to brush my tongue. I hoped the electricity would come on soon so the water pump would work. I had been shitting in the woods and I wasn’t the fondest of it. 

When I was done, the last thing on my mind was food, as I pulled on my clothes and brushed and braided back my hair into two long pigtails. Rosie had sat outside the bathroom and watched me with concern as I exited.  I patted her head reassuringly and she wagged her tail. I grabbed one of Uncle Jake’s random hats and pulled it low on my brow, to somewhat hide my bruises. He had already seen them so what was the point? The hat was just a courtesy. I didn’t want him staring at them all morning. I also wasn’t going to pretend they didn’t exist.

Stepping out on the deck with Rosie at my heels, the smell of delicious food made my stomach both groan and curdle. Carter glanced over his shoulder at us as I plopped down into a plastic chair and sighed.

“Rosie doesn't like just anyone,” he commented.

“So, why did you bring her if she doesn't like new people?” I asked, while petting the dog as she leaned against my knee.

“Consider her your character witness,” he said, smirking. “Something told me you two would get along swimmingly,” he joked to himself, with a shake of the head. Whatever he was thinking I didn’t really care, I was glad for the animal’s company right now. She broke the weight of the tension that hung around me, even my instincts were confused where Carter was concerned. I was only giving him leeway because Uncle Jake sent me here and I wanted to know about him and my father’s world.

Carter handed me a large coffee in an insulated mug and a paper plate piled with food. The smell of food went straight to my stomach but my mind had yet to conquer the will to eat. I took a sip of the coffee, my senses agreeing, but the pit in my stomach roiled demanding food. I poked at the food moving it around as I tried to force my mind to accept it. Every bite was a struggle. It was easier with Beck around; he seemed to understand something I didn’t. My mind drifted, wondering for a moment what the cause was, before I decided I didn’t care to know, and shoved a forkful of hot fried potatoes in my mouth. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me and I caught Carter’s smug eye over his shoulder as he was plating his own food.

“What?” I asked, with a mouth full of food. My stomach was happy and demanded more but my mind needed to be distracted to get through this meal. He shrugged, taking a similar cup and his plate, after scraping the flat top down and squirting some oil over it. Did he have a similar set up or was he over at Uncle Jake’s that often that he knew how to care for his things? Just how close were they?

Carter sat in the chair beside me, his eyes gazing at the horizon over the mountain tops. 

“Jake and I used to take turns making Sunday breakfast. It was always the same,” he said, holding up his plate. “I miss the old fart,” he said, saluting the sunrise with his fork and taking a bite. “It’s nice to know maybe I have a neighbor who may appreciate those Sunday breakfasts as much as I did with him,” he said, his voice seemingly distant as he reflected. I nodded, taking a bite, finding it not so hard as before. My lips twitched into a soft smile.

“To Jake!” I said, holding up a forkful of eggs towards Carter. He grinned and scooped up his next forkful, cheering mine. We ate in an introspective companionable silence. Rosie, waiting for any morsel to drop. My body was relaxed for the first time in weeks, the pit of anxiety had waned enough to where I could eat without nausea, and Carter just sat there staring at the view, eating at a languid pace that matched my own.

Rosie had positioned herself with her head on my knee and I felt comforted, though I didn’t give in to her puppy eyes.