Chapter 2
CARTER
The day after the rainstorm, I was at the mechanic’s shop, ready to blow a gasket like my engine had done the day before. My car had been towed here yesterday, but so far, my conversation with the nineteen-year-old kid running the place had not been productive.
“What do you mean, you can’t fix it?” I asked Tyler, which was what his nametag read. We were standing by my car, hood open. “You’re a mechanic, right?”
“Yeah, but I’ve never worked on a car like this. I don’t even know which tools I need for it.” He gazed down at my car. “I’d love to take it for a drive though. It’s a beautiful machine.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Get her running again and you’re welcome to take it for a spin.”
“I wish I could.” Tyler shrugged. “My boss might be able to fix her up. But he’s out of town, so you’ll have to wait.”
I wanted to scream in frustration but I doubted it would faze the kid. “Can’t you just read the manual or something?”
“Sir, the manual is in Italian.”
“Of course it is.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “What’s Italian for ‘fuck my life’?”
The kid seemed to think about it. “Mama mia?”
That got a chuckle out of me. “That’s close enough. Fine, do you guys have Uber out here?”
“I doubt it but you’re welcome to try,” he said.
“How about somewhere I can rent a car?”
The kid shook his head. “You’d have to drive about forty-five minutes to get to a rental place.”
“Well, then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I’ll tell you what,” Tyler said, scratching his neck. “You wait for Shane to come back and fix your car, and in the meantime, you can use my truck. No charge.”
I stepped back and eyed him warily. “I can borrow your truck? What’s the catch?”
“The catch is it’s a piece of shit,” he said with a grin. “And you have to let me drive your car once it’s fixed. Just once around town. What do you say?”
“I say I don’t have a choice. Deal.”
Later, as I was driving Tyler’s truck to a farm I was interested in buying, it became clear just how much of a piece of shit his truck was.
It had to be older than Tyler. The springs in the seats no longer sprung, and the air-conditioner smelled like an old raccoon had farted itself to death in the vents.
But it ran well, which was a testament to Tyler’s mechanic skills, I supposed.
A long farm road stretched out in front of me, looking like every other damn road in this godforsaken place.
At least my GPS was working today. Probably because the sky was clearer than the day before.
When the thing told me to turn, I pulled off through the open gate of a place called Granny’s Acre Farm.
I knew from the files my office had sent over that the farm was bigger than a single acre. Not giant enough to be a threat to any of our operations, but big enough to explore absorbing them into the agricultural branch of Allory Enterprises, which we’d been growing these last few years.
Food was big business and we’d been making a push to get a piece of that pie. Instead of starting from scratch, it was easier to buy out existing farms and take over operations. Or shut them down completely. It was a win-win for everyone. The farmers got paid well and Allory profited.
Let’s just hope Granny sees it the same way.
I had been CEO of Allory Enterprises for four months now, but I had trained my entire life for the role.
I had done everything that was expected of me, attending prestigious schools, making connections, and learning how to navigate the cutthroat business world.
But now I was being asked to do something I never thought I would have to do.
The board was panicking because of a social media campaign calling Allory, which owned a ton of farmland now, the “bad Easter bunnies” after a sleuth came out with receipts about my father’s practices of buying out farms and shutting them down to keep competition away from the larger farms we owned.
It was a shitty business practice, and I didn’t run things the same way he had, but people didn’t forget just because the company had a new CEO who was trying to do things a better way.
All this drama stemmed from a single social media post that blew up, but one viral scandal was enough of a headache to deal with. I was pretty new to the field of agriculture, but according to the board, the social media heat was a very bad thing.
Speculation about the new, young, handsome CEO was at an all-time high, and the board insisted on sending me here to Ferris for a little while to mingle with the farmers.
The board would also be sending a media coordinator out after I’d settled to get some wholesome footage to try to show the public we weren’t as bad as we had been in the past.
I didn’t love the idea, but they were adamant, and I wanted to prove myself. My father had left me with a mess but I knew I could make Allory a company I could be proud of.
I parked Tyler’s truck in front of the little farmhouse at the end of the drive. Colorful flowers lined a stone walkway leading up to the bright yellow front door. The sound of chickens filled the air, although I couldn’t see any of the actual birds from there.
I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
After giving it another try, I walked around the back of the property, just in case whoever lived here was outside.
If not, it couldn’t hurt to poke around in their chicken houses and see how they did things.
If I got caught, I just hoped Granny’s mood was as cheerful as her home.
I heard the click of a gun behind me. “Who are you and what do you want?”
Granny’s home.
I spun around with my most charming smile on my face but then stopped. My mind reeled with confusion. The big shotgun pointed at my feet was only part of the reason. Mostly, I was shocked at who was holding the shotgun.
“Shelby?”
She looked a hell of a lot different than she had the day before, bundled up in bulky layers of rain gear.
Her jeans hugged her wide hips and thick thighs, the kind that could grip tight and ride all night.
The thin white cotton shirt she wore clung to her damp skin, giving me an amazing view of what she had hiding underneath.
“Carter?” Instead of lowering the gun, she raised it. Her gorgeous face was the same as yesterday when she looked at me. Confused, annoyed, and maybe a little intrigued. Her blue eyes shone like sapphires in the sunlight today, though. Beautiful, enchanting, pissed-off sapphires.
“Hi,” I said cautiously.
“How do you know where I live? Did you follow me or something?”
I took a step back and held up my hands innocently. “Now hold on. It’s not like that.”
“I knew you were a serial killer. Well, guess what, pal? My grandpa taught me how to shoot, and he went to jail for a while.”
Curiosity overrode my fear. “For what?”
Shelby arched a brow. “What do you think?”
“I think you should lower the gun so we can talk like adults.”
She pointed the barrel toward the dirt and relief washed over me. “Better?”
“Yes,” I said. “Now, is your gunslinging grandpa home? Or Granny, for that matter?”
“They passed a few years back.” A shadow crossed over her face, replacing anger with sadness. But the anger reappeared quickly. “What are you doing here, Carter? Don’t make me ask again.”
“I need to talk to the owner of the farm,” I said.
Shelby drew her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Well, that’s me. This is my farm.”
“Oh.” I sighed. “Then I’m here to talk to you. Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Carter Allory, with Allory Agriculture. You might have heard of us?”
The suddenly furious look on her face surprised me, but when she spat on the ground at my feet, I went speechless. It seemed she had heard of us after all.
“I’m going to say this as politely as possible,” Shelby said, her blue eyes blazing with cold fire. “Get off my property and never come back. If I see you here again, I’m going to shove this shotgun somewhere you don’t want it, and I’m going to end up in prison.”
“Shelby…”
“You have three seconds to turn around and get moving before I make you into a new lampshade. Now go!”
I had no choice but to back off. I wasn’t sure if she would actually shoot me, but I wasn’t in a gambling mood.
Allory had upset a lot of people over the years.
It was the cost of doing business. Shelby probably wasn’t the only person eager to shoot an Allory executive, but she had plenty of wide, open space to bury a body and no one around to notice.
I hopped in Tyler’s truck, painfully aware of Shelby watching me from the top of the drive.
Her cheeks were aflame with anger and she looked sexy as hell.
It was an inappropriate thought to be having right then, but I wanted to meet her passion with mine, to kiss her until she dropped the shotgun, to rip her clothes off and fuck her until she begged me to stay instead of forcing me to leave.
It was almost worth getting shot for.
For the moment, I drove away confused, turned on, and confused some more. There were a couple more properties I had planned on checking out today, but after that warm reception, I just went back to Honeyrose to regroup.
I had only been in my room for a few minutes when someone knocked softly on the door. “Come in.”
Mrs. Presley, the owner, swept in with a pot of coffee like an angel. “You looked like you could use a pick-me-up.”
“You read my mind. Please, sit and share a cup with me.”
The woman, in her late sixties and wearing a chunky cardigan, poured us both a cup and sat at the small table in my room. “So how was your morning?” she asked.
“Actually, I met an interesting woman,” I said. “Do you know Shelby Whitaker?”
“Oh, of course. Everyone knows the Whitakers. They’re a bit infamous these days.” She took a sip of her coffee.
I leaned forward with interest. “Because her grandfather shot someone?”
“What? No, because the Whitakers used to run a giant poultry farm and processing plant around here, Whitaker Farms. But then they sold it, it got shut down, and lots of folks lost their jobs.” Mrs. Presley shook her head sadly.
“Poor Shelby. Her parents sold the farm and left. She stayed behind and everyone acts like she’s the one who ruined the local economy. ”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” I said.
“Life rarely is. Now, let me be clear. I’m a fan of Shelby’s, but a lot of people got hurt by her parents’ actions and she’s practically shunned because of it.
” The older woman picked some invisible lint off her dress.
“Seems to me, the people ought to be mad at the company that fired everyone, not the Whitakers.”
I put down my coffee on the table and looked at the woman. “Mrs. Presley, do you know which company bought the Whitaker farm?”
She nodded. “Allory Enterprises. Everyone around here knows them.”
“Mrs. Presley, you know my last name, right?” I probed.
“I do, Mr. Allory.”
I took a deep breath. “Can I ask how you feel about me being here?”
“It depends on if you’re here to help people or hurt them.” She pursed her lips. “I saw how things went last time.”
“I think we’re helping people,” I said, meaning it.
“Well, as long as that’s true, and not just something you tell yourself to sleep at night, then you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Presley.”
She pursed her lips. “You might not want to tell everyone who you are. There’s lots of people around here who won’t be so kind.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Mrs. Presley got to her feet. “Enjoy the rest of your coffee. I’ll be back in a bit to clear it.”
She made it to the door before turning back around. “When you said Shelby Whitaker was an interesting woman, were you by any chance chased off the property by Shelby and her shotgun?”
I barked out a dry laugh. “I was, actually.”
She smiled to herself. “She’s a terrible shot, just so you know.”
Then she was gone, leaving me with so many questions. All about a pretty farmgirl named Shelby.