Page 42 of The Deadbeat Next Door

“I would cook for her every night,” I said, trying to get the conversation back on the right track.

“What are you going on about, boy?” Bart asked, narrowing his eyes at me like he was angry. I wondered if I’d ever had any shot at his land or if this whole dinner had been his way of getting Carrie and his grandson back in the same room to remember how much they’d cared for each other.

“You asked me for details,” I said. “I’d cook dinner for Carrie every night, and I’d rub her feet after a long day. I’d hold her when she cried because she was worried about one of her students, and I’d take her out on a date at least once a week. I’d always tell her she looked beautiful, and I’d make sure she never forgot that I’m in her corner, that I’m her partner, and will be there for any problem she might have.”

I’d been talking to Bart, but on the last words, I turned to Carrie to find her looking at me with a tender expression on her face and tears in her eyes. Whatever I’d just said had made her weepy in that way women think is wonderful. I placed a kiss to her forehead and hoped that someday she found a man to do all those things for her, because she deserved it. That and so much more.

Mary Ellen cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But sweet nothings and romance ruin my appetite. Anyone see the game last night?”

Everyone started talking sports and then moved on to the unseasonably warm weather. Mary Ellen told a funny story about trying to find a “mountain” home for a young couple from Northern Virginia, and Bart told us about the weird creatures he’d seen in the woods not too far from his house. The meal passed quickly.

When we’d finished eating, Bart asked everyone to give him a few moments alone with me. The others helped clear the table and headed to the other side of the large kitchen to wash the dishes and chat while they cleaned up. I watched Carrie cross the room, standing way too close to George in my opinion, and turned my attention to Bart.

“Boy,” he said. “I can see you’re fond of our Carrie, but I’m not sure I believe this relationship of yours is real.” He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to argue. “Mind you, I’m not saying the two of you are lying, I’m just saying that I don’t see any kind of hope for this relationship to stand the test of time.”

“I know we’re different, but I think it’s our differences that make us such a good couple. I’m strong where she’s weak and she’s strong where I’m weak.” I was just making stuff up at this point, as far as I could tell, Carrie didn’t have any weaknesses. “I have no intention of giving her up.”

“Uh-huh. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t sell you the land until you two were officially married in a church, but my boys are pressuring me to get rid of this place and I understand weddings take time to plan. What I’m proposing is that you two stay together for a month, maybe move in together to give this marriage thing a real trial run, and I’ll sell you the property at that point.”

My stomach dropped. “A month? By the end of the month, it’ll be too late to put in the grapes and I’ll be way behind—”

He waved a hand. “Don’t try to hoodwink me, kid. I may not be a farmer, but even I know it’s already too late to get your grapes in. Even if you started today, you’d never have the land ready in time.” He shrugged. “If you don’t want to wait, buy someone else’s land. My offer is one month of happiness and love with Carrie, prove to me you’re in this for the long haul, and I’ll sell you the land.”

Shit, there was no way Carrie was going to agree to a whole month of this lying and deceit, but I didn’t have any other choice. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be back in a month.”

Bart frowned. “I’ll expect to see you more frequently than that. Stop in once a week and give me progress updates.”

“Sure.” I hated this. I hated being under his thumb, because he had something I desperately wanted and he knew it. It’s a position my father never would have gotten himself in and, if he had gotten himself in this position, he would have walked away. I wanted the land too badly and had too much riding on it to walk away. I’d invested too much time and energy into finding this property. I pushed my chair back and stood. I offered my hand and Bart shook it.

The others had already moved out to the porch and I went out there to find Carrie and George, heads together, at the far end of the porch and Mary Ellen and Dwight sitting on the porch steps. “I guess you and your brother want to get back to the city,” I said. I sat on the porch steps next to Dwight, even though my instincts were roaring at me to get between Carrie and George. She didn’t belong to me, I had no right to get between her and a potential real boyfriend. My chest pinched tight at the thought. I pulled in a deep breath and focused on Dwight.

“I sure do,” Dwight said. “But George is sticking around. He’s not a city boy at heart and he’s got an opportunity working at the university in the next county over.”

“Really,” I said. “What’s he going to be doing there?”

Dwight looked up at me with what can only be described as an evil grin. “He’s going to be an English professor.”

I groaned. Perfect ex-boyfriend George was so clearly everything that Carrie wanted, I didn’t stand a chance against him.

“Ready to go?” Carrie asked, stepping up next to me and sliding her hand into mine.

“Yeah.” We thanked Mary Ellen for dinner, said goodbye to Dwight and George, and got in the car.

“What did Bart have to say?” Carrie asked as soon as I was back on the main road. “Do you think he bought it?”

“Nope. Do you have any real interest in George?”

“What?”

“Do you want to date George? Do you think you might have a future with him?”

“What does that have to do with what Bart said?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you what Bart said after you answer the question.”

She was quiet for several long miles and I felt the property slipping through my fingers, because I wouldn’t force her to keep up this charade if she had a chance at her happily ever after. Finally, a block from our houses, she spoke. “I was really crazy about him, you know, and I think that’s what I’m feeling now. It’s just nostalgia. I want to go back to those simple, fun times, but…” She hesitated. I pulled into my driveway and told myself this was for the best. It was better she walked away now before she developed feelings for me. “But I don’t know him anymore and I just…Well, I don’t want to be mean, because I don’t know him well, but…he’s kind of a douche.”

That stopped me and I twisted in my seat to look at her. “You think he’s a douche? But you laughed at everything he said. You seemed totally smitten with him.”

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