Straddling the Fence (17 page)

“Fucker,” Sage said. “I think you cracked a rib.”

“Good.” Eli traced his split bottom lip with his tongue. “I
hope it hurts.”

Bellamy winced. Watching the whole scene made her heart
break, but from the context of the argument that led to the fight, something
ugly had been festering between the brothers for a while now. It was
unfortunate they chose to lance it with violence.

Sage got one leg underneath him then used it to push to his
feet. He wobbled sideways like a drunk, reaching out to steady himself against
the back of the trailer. The skin over his left cheekbone was split open and
blood streamed down his face to drip onto his shirt.

“You know, neither one of you have ever stopped to ask me
what
I
wanted to do,” Sage said, breaths coming in short, shallow pulls,
the bitterness in his voice so sharp Bellamy’s teeth ached.

“Anytime you want out of Carter Farms, brother, just say the
word and it’s done,” Eli spat back at him.

“Hey now,” Kai said. “Let’s not do this tonight, okay?
Please? It’ll ruin Ruby’s birthday. It’s bad enough that she’s going to take
one look at the both of you and know you’ve been fighting.”

Without uttering another sound, Sage stumbled to his truck
and drove away from the barn.

Bellamy went to where Eli was propped against the tailgate
of his truck, carefully prodding at his jaw. “Do you have a towel or an extra
shirt in your truck?”

“Backseat.”

She found a wrinkled t-shirt that didn’t smell particularly
clean but would have to suffice, and scooped a few handfuls of ice into it from
his cooler for a makeshift icepack. “Here,” she said, pressing it to his
injury. When he replaced her hand with his, she brushed the hair back out of
his eyes and off his forehead so she could check for more cuts and bruises. “Is
your face the only thing that’s hurt?”

He nodded, working his jaw. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine.” She forced a smile. “Even without siblings of
my own, I know they fight occasionally.”

“But I’m old enough to know better than to let it come to
blows. Those are the toughest fights to get over.”

From the distant, troubled look in his eyes, Bellamy knew he
wasn’t just talking about the physical recovery. There had to be emotional cuts
and bruises that hurt long after the surface wounds healed.

“You think Sage needs medical attention? I could check him
over; maybe tape his ribs if one’s cracked.”

“Sage has been in enough fights over the years to know when
to treat himself and when to take his beat-up ass to the hospital.”

“And the two of you? How many times does this make?”

Eli dabbed at his swollen bottom lip with the icepack,
frowning at the streak of blood staining the cloth. “I lost count when we hit
puberty.”

A strange, toxic mixture of chemicals and emotions still
swirled in Eli’s blood an hour after the fight with his brother. A side effect
was a tremor in his sore hand as he tipped two fingers’ worth of Jack into a
glass. Without preamble, he downed the liquor in a single gulp that burned from
the back of his throat to the bottom of his gut.

His knuckles hurt, his jaw throbbed, and his lip was tender
and stinging, but his heart ached worse than anything else did. Fighting Sage
wasn’t the way to work out their differences, but he’d be damned if he was
going to bite his tongue about how he felt, or back down when Sage crossed the
line and took things too far.

Eventually Eli and his brothers would need to have a heart
to heart talk about what they expected from each other, where they were headed
as a company, and whether or not they could all agree on how said company continued
to be run. Because family bonds aside, it was a profitable, viable operation
and it had to be treated as such.

Things had been so much easier when their dad was still in
charge.

The shower started in his bathroom, prompting him to drag
his mopey ass in there just in time to see a naked Bellamy step inside the
shower stall. Instant mood improvement. Through the rippled glass, he watched
her bathe as he methodically stripped out of his dusty clothes, wincing at the
twinge of pain in his shoulder and hip from the collision with solid,
unforgiving ground. By the time he joined her, she was shampooing her hair. He
braced one hand on the tile wall, the other on top of the glass door, and drank
in the wholly feminine way she moved, using the sexy sight to dilute the unease
churning inside him.

Thick ribbons of suds tracked down her sleek body, following
the gentle curves of muscle and bone. When she stepped beneath the spray,
tipping her head back to rinse her hair, the delicate arch of her neck and soft
slope of her breasts sent arousal coursing through his blood to settle heavily
in his cock.

His physical reaction only highlighted their differences. He
was hard to her soft. Rough to her tender. Impulsive to her calm.

She hadn’t said much since they’d reached his house, but Eli
knew she was disappointed in him—or more specifically, the barbaric way he’d
handled things with Sage. And truth be told, so was Eli, except it was too late
to change it now. The damage was done. He’d let rage get the better of him instead
of holding on to his temper.

And the funny thing was, the only time he ever lost his cool
was with his siblings or in defense of one of them back when they were in their
late teens and early twenties, partying and drinking too damn much to maintain
a level head.

His issues with Sage could perhaps be resolved, once they
found their way past the anger and talked it out. But had acting like a
hotheaded ass done any sort of harm to his relationship with Bellamy? There
were women out there who abhorred violence of any kind, and as tenderhearted as
she was, he could see her being one of them.

The feel of her hands on his chest snapped him out of his
thoughts. She gently pushed him under the spray, ignoring the rigid state of
his cock altogether, and left him alone in the shower. He gave half a thought
to jacking off, maybe help rid himself of any remaining self-destructive urges,
before scrubbing himself clean and turning the control knob over to cold in an
attempt to douse the fire in his groin.

She was sitting on the edge of his bed running a comb
through her damp hair when he exited the bathroom, a towel tucked around her
body. He’d slung one around his hips, and when she spotted him watching her
from the doorway, she crooked a finger, silently beckoning him closer.

On the nightstand sat a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a few
cotton balls, a tube of antibiotic ointment and the first-aid kit he kept
beneath the bathroom sink. His bed was the kind that sat so high off the floor,
even Eli had to hop up onto the mattress. This put Bellamy at the perfect
height to doctor the scrape on his jaw and the cut on his lip from a sitting
position. She ended by examining and cleaning the three busted knuckles on his
right hand, placing a careful kiss to each, before smearing ointment over the
broken skin.

He was still half-hard beneath the towel—her gentle touch,
the tiny droplets of water clinging to her collarbone and the smell of his
shampoo on her hair kept selfish want simmering just beneath the surface of his
skin.

When she ran her fingertips from the base of his throat down
to his hip, a low groan rattled inside his chest. Her gaze snapped up to his,
acute as ever. “That bad, huh?”

“Always,” he said, his voice rough before he swallowed. “I
always want you. I might hurt you, though. There’s still some lingering
aggression that hasn’t bled out yet.”

A flick of her fingers and the towel cloaking her body fell
away then she loosened his. It landed on top of his feet and cool air brushed
his straining cock. “You won’t hurt me, Eli.”

Her trust was humbling to say the least, but he feared it
was also misplaced.

Bellamy didn’t reach for him. She left it up to him to
decide, dropping her hands to the bed while inside him, desire warred with
caution. Need won this fight, rather easily too, and he extracted a condom from
the box inside his nightstand drawer.

“Scoot up to the pillows.”

She did as he instructed, then made room for him between her
legs as he settled over her. He tested her with two fingers, watching her eyes
close briefly and her chin lift when he drew the wetness up to her clit in a
slow, deliberate stroke. A shuddering sigh broke the quiet of the bedroom.

Those long, sleek legs rode up his thighs, over his hips,
heels nudging his ass to compel him forward. She grasped his cock in one hand,
guiding him into place. It was all the invitation he needed, and braced above
her on his hands, he drove inside her.

Clinging heat sparked a fire in his blood. A fresh burst of
adrenaline chased it through his veins, making the jolt he’d felt during the
fight with Sage pale in comparison. With Bellamy, he almost got high off the
rush.

The hitching moan she let loose snapped the leash on any
control he might’ve been clinging to in hopes of making this lasting and
memorable. It wouldn’t be, yet Bellamy didn’t seem to care. She dug her short,
blunt nails into his shoulders and dove headlong into the feverishness of their
coupling right along with him.

He was hard as Georgia clay after a months-long drought, and
felt just as brittle. Pressure and tension seethed in his cock as he fucked her
so roughly, she had to brace a hand against the headboard to keep from sliding
up the bed. Still, she didn’t complain when he deserved a smack across the face
for being thoughtless and greedy.

Eli tried to focus on her, make this
good
for her,
but all he could feel was the frantic urges of his own body, the white-hot need
to purge the poison in his blood through sexual release. Right now, Bellamy was
a conduit between lust and the other side of pain and anger, and that was so
selfish and un-fucking-fair he probably wouldn’t be able to look at himself in
the mirror for days.

But instead of letting him get lost in the self-loathing,
her eyes caught his and held, reading him like a book. Her hand lifted, grazed
his sore jaw, then slid into his hair to form a fist, demanding he slow down
and recognize what they were doing. This wasn’t just about what he needed,
though she’d made it seem that way. She was here too, with him, and she
deserved so much more that what he was giving her. It tamed him instantly, her
silent request for his mental presence.

Emotion wrapped around his heart, threatening to squeeze the
life right out of him. He slowed his movements, gentled, blocked out the
previous two hours and remembered the night he’d met her instead. Discovered
the sweet taste of her mouth and kissed the smile on her lips because he’d
wanted to feel it against his own. To memorize it, like he’d memorized the
sound of her voice and the smell of her skin.

It mattered. It’s always mattered.

“Bellamy,” he said, just to hear the word fill the air
around them, a mixture of reverence and raw desire making it sound desperate as
it left his tongue.

He loved her name, loved her incredible face and her giant
heart and the way she made
his
race when he looked at her.

God, he loved
her
.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, urging him down to rest his
weight on top of her.

He felt the ripple of pleasure work its way through her
body, the urgent grip of her hands on his shoulder and in his hair. Her breath
caught then she moaned softly as she came. Nothing earth-shattering, just a
gentle quake, but it relieved him still. The clasp of her body around his was
enough to break the stranglehold he’d somehow managed to keep on his orgasm,
and he let go, burying his face in her shoulder as pleasure crested, sharpened,
then faded away to a dull, sweet ache in his muscles.

She patted his hip, prompting him to move and allow her room
to breathe. He rolled to his back, giving his heart a minute to calm and his
brain time to regroup. If there was such a thing as gratifying pain, he felt
it. Tomorrow he would be feeling the pain parts even more acutely.

He was getting too old for this combative shit with Sage.

Eli sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “We’re going to
be late if we don’t get moving.”

Behind him, Bellamy shifted then her arms slid around his
shoulders. She placed a gentle kiss on his bruised jaw, brushed her mouth
across his cheekbone. “Talk to Sage tonight. The longer the two of you wait to
address what happened, the wider the rift becomes.”

Sighing heavily at the prospect of having that conversation,
Eli nodded once and stood to get dressed.

He needed to talk to Sage because it was the right thing to
do, and because once his mother figured out her sons had fought, she would be
upset until they made amends, or at least made it appear that all was right
with the world again, even though it wouldn’t be. Not entirely. Sage had too
much bottled-up resentment for a single conversation to cure, and Ruby knew
this too. She just chose to pretend otherwise.

For Bellamy though, Eli would have that talk because she
made him want to be a better person, and an even better man.

Bellamy and Eli arrived back at the barn just in time to help
Kai set up the food and light candles before guests starting showing up and
Fritz went to fetch Ruby and Joe for the big surprise. Sage was nowhere to be
found, but Kai assured them she’d talked to him on the phone and he promised to
be there, although he hadn’t said much else.

There were too many cars parked in the field out front for
it to be a hide-and-jump-out kind of surprise, but when Fritz rolled his
parents up to the wide open doors of the barn, Ruby was still overcome with
delight and happy tears.

In spite of Kai requesting guests not bring gifts, packages
were mounded up on a side table near the cake. Bellamy had fretted for days
over what to get Ruby until she remembered seeing a few pieces of milk glass
inside her china hutch the first time she’d eaten dinner with them. It took
several trips to various antique shops around the area before she found a
pretty cake stand that fit the bill perfectly. As special as Ruby had become to
Bellamy, there was no way she wasn’t buying her a gift.

Once the food was devoured, “Happy Birthday” sung and the
cake cut, the band started playing and folks began dancing. Laughter and
chatter filled the cavernous space of the barn, sometimes overtaking the
strains of music. It was obvious the Carter clan was well liked around Serenity
because they were constantly caught up in conversation, sometimes all together
but oftentimes singularly. No sooner would one end before they were drawn into
another.

Bellamy had made lots of new acquaintances, including
several of Eli’s relatives, been asked a few strange questions about what it
was like to be a large-animal vet, and had one inquiry about declawing
someone’s cat. Not her area of expertise, and besides that, she found the
practice inhumane. Buy the cat a scratching post and it won’t use your damn
furniture as a substitute. She’d almost asked the woman how she’d like having
all her nails permanently removed before she remembered that might be seen as
impolite.

Sage kept his word to Kai and showed up, a white butterfly
bandage stark over his bruised and swollen cheekbone. He moved in measured
steps and kept a hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans to protect his
injured side from an accidental jostle or a poke in the ribs, an overly
exuberant hug from a relative. He and Eli made eye contact occasionally, but
they had yet to find the opportunity, or perhaps the nerve, to approach one
another.

While Eli was caught up in a rowdy conversation with two of
his cousins from out of town, Bellamy grabbed a slice of birthday cake and
found a semi-quiet vacant spot in a corner of the barn to tuck into her
dessert.

Grace came to stand beside her, balancing a Solo cup full of
red wine and her own chunk of cake on a plate. She sat the cup down on a hay
bale and picked up her fork. Once she’d swallowed a mouthful of sugar, she
leaned close to Bellamy. “I know this is a weirdly awful thing to say, but the
cut and bruise on Sage’s cheek are serious turn-ons for me.”

Bellamy licked frosting from the tines of her plastic fork
while she considered Grace’s comment. Naturally, her gaze jumped from face to
face until she found Eli in the crowd. His injuries weren’t quite as noticeable
as Sage’s. If you didn’t know he’d been in a fight, you might not pick up on
them at all, outside of the small cut on his bottom lip that he could’ve gotten
in myriad other ways besides a fist. She knew he’d fought his baby brother, and
she was intimately familiar with his face by now, so she picked up on the
slight darkening in his jaw and the mild swelling in the tissue when he looked
directly at her.

And yes, tending to his wounds this afternoon had aroused
her too, in a twisted sort of way. Or maybe it was his vulnerability, or the
excess adrenaline he needed to expend, the raw openness of his need. Perhaps she
liked that she could take care of
him
for a change in some small way.
Whatever it was, the sex had been intense, if not a bit frantic and rough. They
hadn’t even shared a kiss during the act, but she still felt the echo of him
between her thighs, the slight soreness a subtle reminder of how distracted
he’d been by the chaos inside his head over what happened with Sage.

At first, she’d doubted that she would come, and she hadn’t
really cared one way or the other, given the circumstances. In that moment, she
was willing to freely give him what he needed to take from her. Whatever got
him past the turmoil trapped beneath his skin. But then his mood shifted from
edgy to intimate, he’d said her name and that was all it took.

“Deep down inside, I suppose women secretly want a man who
can physically protect them,” Bellamy said, then winced at the ridiculous
babble of nonsense. “Or some stupid crap such as that. Hell if I know. Humans
mystify me. Guess that’s why I love animals so much.”

Grace laughed. “At least with animals you know where you
stand, right? No games or false pretenses. What you see is what you get.”

“Absolutely.”

Bellamy polished off the rest of her cake, tossed her plate
and fork in a nearby trashcan, then asked Grace, “Kai tell you what happened?”

“When I got back with the cake. Have they talked yet?”

“No.”

“Sage has a chip on his shoulder about something,” Grace
said. “God knows what it could be.”

“Right after the fight, he said Eli and Fritz never asked
him what
he
wanted to do.”

“But I thought he liked farming?”

“Maybe not entirely,” Bellamy said. “And the cattle were
Eli’s idea.”

“It’s funny. I can’t really picture Sage doing anything
else. But then again, I always thought the Carter boys got along like peanut
butter and jelly. I should know better, having a younger brother myself. We
used to scrap all the time over the dumbest stuff. Knock-down-drag-out fights
where we both got my daddy’s belt or put on restriction for weeks. You would
think we’d learned our lesson, but no. Put us in a house together for more than
a few hours and we’re going to find something to argue about.”

“You still love him though.” Bellamy could hear the
affection under her words.

“Yep.” Grace sighed. “That’s the thing about family—they’re
usually the ones who hurt you the worst yet you tend to forgive them the
fastest.”

Someone waved Grace over to join a conversation, leaving
Bellamy alone again to mull over what she’d said about family. It was
true—she’d forgiven her parents for leaving her to fend for herself with the move
to Serenity because what choice did she have? Holding on to the hurt didn’t
make much sense, a foolish waste of time and energy. The sting was still there,
but it would fade too. Over the years, she’d gotten in plenty of practice at
letting go of things, so perhaps that’s why she was clinging so tightly to her
grandparents’ house, because of the wonderful memories it held inside its
walls. Could be that it helped to supplant the things missing from her
relationship with her mom and dad.

She’d lost Eli in the crowd of people, but she caught sight
of Sage slipping through the side door of the barn. On impulse, she followed
him out. She found him at his truck, gingerly climbing up on the lowered
tailgate. He let out an audible stream of breath once he’d settled. Even with
the weak light spilling out of the barn, she could see his face go pale with
pain.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked him.

Surprise at seeing her there registered briefly in his
features. He hesitated for a moment before patting the metal next to him. “Have
a seat.”

Bellamy tried not to make the tailgate jerk when she hoisted
herself up, but damn these men and their jacked-up trucks. She totally got the
necessity in most cases, but a stepladder was needed to climb inside the
things.

“How’re the ribs?”

“Bruised and sore,” he said. “Nothin’ time won’t heal.”

Did that apply to the crack in the brotherly bond too?

“Ice, ibuprofen and rest.”

“Got it, Doc. Wanna beer?” Sage asked, while digging through
the icy slush in his cooler.

Another thing Southern men always seemed to have on hand—a
cooler full of something to drink, be it water, soda, a Mason jar of homemade
moonshine or ice-cold beer.

“Sure.”

He produced two bottles of Bud Light, wiping away the excess
moisture on the leg of his jeans before twisting off the caps and handing her
one. She wasn’t a huge fan of beer, but if drinking one with Sage facilitated a
conversation, she’d manage to choke it down without complaint.

“I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I acted in the
diner the other morning, Bellamy. Picking at you about the bacon was rude and
childish, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” she said. Keeping her head facing
forward, she decided to test her theory from that morning. “I figured seeing
Grace there with Tucker might’ve put you in a surly mood.” In her periphery,
she saw him glance over then refocus on the beer in his hand. “Or am I reading
that all wrong?”

His heavy sigh said she wasn’t. “Grace is a grown woman. She
can spend the night with whoever she wants.”

“Well, that’s just it.” Bellamy met his gaze. “Tucker’s not
who she really
wants
, he was just there when you weren’t.”

Sage drank his beer and stared off into the night long
enough for Bellamy to know she’d said enough about the sensitive topic of
Grace.

“What did you get Ruby for her birthday?” she asked to shift
the conversation to an easier subject.

“Not sure exactly. All I know is Kai had me, Fritz and Eli
posing for her camera one day at the barn. She made us wear specific clothing
and sit on my granddaddy Carter’s old tractor just so. Says she was recreating
a photo from when we were kids, and she was going to have it enlarged and
framed for Mom’s birthday. I just forked over my part of the cost when Kai
stuck her hand out.”

Bellamy took a sip of beer and forced it down her throat,
trying hard not to grimace at the bitter taste. “Your mention of pictures
reminded me of something. I was in Homegrown the other day and Kai has this
gorgeous painting hanging on the wall of a horse in an open field. She says it
was done by a local artist, but they prefer to remain anonymous. You wouldn’t
have any idea who it might be, would you?”

Rolling the cold bottle between her palms, Bellamy looked
over at him and grinned slyly. Sage’s smile took longer to form, and it almost
looked painful in the making. “How’d you figure out it was me?”

“It wasn’t easy. The first clue was meeting your subject
matter behind Eli’s house in the live setting, and I have to say, the painting
did the horse a lot more justice than real life, poor guy. But the angle was
off…the pond and the trees too far to the left. Then Eli mentioned your
property was next to his and that stuck with me like a splinter. He also told
me how you could draw anything. Bragged on you, actually.”

“He did?” Sage sounded surprised to hear this. Bellamy
was
laying it on a little thick, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Anything she
could do to help mend their rift.

“Nothing but pure pride in his voice.”

Sage grew quiet, contemplative, his fingers tapping absently
against the glass bottle in his hands.

Satisfied that she’d planted a seed herself, she continued.
“Anyway, after hearing that you were always going out of town, I started to put
it all together. I figure the out-of-town trips are for paint supplies since
you can’t find that sort of stuff around Serenity?”

He nodded. “I’m taking art classes too, just to learn the
lingo. Visiting galleries up in Athens and twice in Atlanta. Man, that’s an
experience. I feel like such a rube in those places. Some of the shit that
passes for art.”

Bellamy laughed, recalling some of the paintings and
sculptures she’d seen during her studies. “I agree. I took two art history
classes as electives in college, and frankly, a lot of it’s hideous.”

“Whose work do you like?”

“I was always a fan of the impressionists—Monet and Manet,
Renoir, Degas, even though Degas hated the term. All that pretty light and
muted color. I love Georgia O’Keeffe’s work too, the boldness of it. Oh, and
Gustav Klimt.”

“
The Kiss
?”

“God, I’m such a
girl
.” She faked a gag.

He leaned over, dropped his voice. “Does Eli know?”

Bellamy whispered back, “I’m pretty sure he’s figured it out
by now.”

Grinning, Sage shrugged, moving back on topic. “Eh, when it
comes to art, we like what we like. What moves us, I guess. Isn’t that what
it’s supposed to do?”

“Yeah, and your painting certainly did that for me. It took
my breath away. Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

“I’m just not ready for it to be out there yet. I’m worried
about what people’s reactions will be, mainly my family’s and my friends’.”

“I can’t see them not supporting you.”

“But what if they think it’s dumb? Me just chasing some
ridiculous pipe dream? What if I fall flat on my face? I’m nothing but a
redneck country boy from Nowhere, Georgia. What do I know about being an artist?”

Some of the older guests started to stream past them on the
way to their vehicles, the party finally winding down a bit perhaps, or getting
too wound up for their aging constitutions, judging by the loud music and
laughter still going strong. Bellamy waited for the small crowd to pass before
replying, since Sage wanted his secret kept for now.

“You have too much talent to fail, Sage, and dreams are
meant to be chased. Most of them anyway.” An annoying little voice in the back
of her mind chimed,
Then why aren’t you chasing yours?
“Nothing says you
have to change who you are, or that you can’t be a simple country boy and still
paint. Pick up a copy of
Cowboys & Indians
magazine sometime and
look at the artwork featured inside by everyday ranchers and horse people. Most
of the painters I studied in college came from humble roots, lots of them poor
as church mice. Don’t let those snotty artsy-fartsy types intimidate you and
just do your thing. Sooner or later the recognition of your gift will come.”