No More Secrets: A Small Town Love Story (The Pierce Brothers Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

elbow in Carter’s gut.
    “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered, checking Beckett with his shoulder.
    “Are you calling dibs?”
    “She’s a woman, not the last piece of fucking pie. And yes, I’m calling dibs if it keeps your hands off of her.”
    “Did someone say pie?” Summer asked hopefully from across the island.
    “If you two are done with your conference over there, I need someone to cut up the garlic bread.” There was amusement in Phoebe’s voice.
    “I can do it,” Summer offered.
    “No!” Carter insisted, a little too sharply. “I got it.”
    He pulled a bag of spinach out of the fridge and gave Beckett one last shove before moving back to the island.
    “Where is it?” Beckett called from the depths of the refrigerator.
    “Where’s what?” Summer wanted to know.
    “Boys and their beer,” Phoebe sighed and topped off their wine glasses. “My sons are obsessed with home brewing.”
    Beckett triumphantly pulled an unlabeled bottle from the vegetable crisper. “You think you can hide this pretty little CP Blonde from me.” He grabbed another bottle from the six-pack he brought. Opening them, he slid one down the granite to Carter.
    Taking a deep swig of his bottle, Beckett sighed. “It’s almost as good as my IPA that you’re drinking.”
    “Almost as good as? I think you meant to say ‘blows your IPA out of the water.’”
    “Clearly your beard has ruined your taste buds.”
    Phoebe winked at Summer. They can go all night like this if we don’t distract them.”
    “CP and BP? Carter Pierce and Beckett Pierce?”
    Carter nodded. “We have an ongoing competition.”
    “Can I try one?” Summer asked.
    Did anyone ever say no to those baby blues?
    Carter slid his bottle across the island to her. “This is one of Beckett’s. An India pale ale. It’s not too bad.”
    Summer picked up the bottle and Carter watched her lips wrap around the mouth.
    Shit.
    Realizing his mistake, he turned his attention to assembling the salad.
    Phoebe, her kitchen prep done, settled in to tell Summer how she had earned a degree in sustainable food and farming and met the boys’ father while researching her master’s thesis.
    “John Pierce took one look at me and tried to run for the hills, but he never stood a chance.”
    “You knew what you wanted,” Summer said.
    “He had these soulful, gray eyes and unruly hair and was frowning more often than not. I fell head over heels. The work he was doing here didn’t hurt either. This used to be 200 acres of broken down fields and ramshackle buildings rotting on their foundations.”
    Carter moved around the kitchen, grabbing a basket for the garlic bread, and starting to slice. “Mom and Dad took what had been a century-old dairy farm and turned it into Pierce Acres.”
    “What kind of animals do you raise here?”
    “We don’t raise most of them in the traditional farm sense,” Phoebe said. “We’ve got free range chickens for eggs and horses for the riding program. But everyone else is a pet or a rescue.”
    “Mr. Vegetarian here lets his bleeding heart make the decisions,” Beckett said, snagging a piece of steaming bread.
    Carter shot Summer a glance and saw her mentally filing information away. He didn’t like it. Every conversation with her would be focused on dragging private details out of him. He took another swig of beer.
    “I still say spaghetti without meatballs is sacrilege,” Beckett sighed.
    “You’ll get over it.” Carter tossed him another piece of bread.
    A knock at the side door caught their attention. The three Pierces shouted a welcome, and the door swung open.
    “Joey, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to knock?” Carter reminded her.
    ––––––––
    T he woman who let the screen door slam behind her had the height and strut of a runway model. “Unlike you gentlemen, I wasn’t raised in a barn. Besides, I don’t want to give any of you the idea you can burst into my house