Lake pats his chest. “But there’s always divorce.”
Max turns his narrowed gaze to his niece. “Are you trying to take my wife away from me? First the lesbian and now this guy? She’s happily married to me.”
“Goodbye, Max,” Kayla mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I’m here now and you’ve cooked enough to feed a small army. There’s no point letting it go to waste,” he tells her. “Plus, would you really let me starve?”
“Yes, yes I would.”
He turns to me, smirking. “She loves to tell tales.”
“Max,” Kayla groans, heading up the path.
“And none of Charlotte’s vegetarian crap. I need my fucking meat, woman.”
The rest of the adults follow, and when none of the rest make a move, I don’t either.
“I really am sorry about this,” Charlotte tells me.
I wave her off. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”
Landon grins. “Famous last words.”
Paisley smacks his chest, her lips twitching. “Stop being mean.”
The door is pulled open once more and the young guy that comes out jerks to a stop, his eyes widening for a moment before he begins to turn to red, his temples pulsing. “Fucking hell!”
“Jacob,” Charlotte admonishes. “Don’t swear.”
The anger is palpable, almost choking when he turns to his sister. “Why, Charlotte? Why go through this again?” he grits out, before he storms over, coming to a stop near me. Landon tries to intervene, but Paisley pulls him back. “I don’t give a fuck how big you are or that you can fight. You hurt my sister in any way, and I’ll kill you.”
“Noted,” I tell him, giving him the respect he deserves, since this is his sister and I had been him at one point. I’ll probably act in the same capacity when Nora gets a boyfriend. “But I’m not going to hurt her.”
“And if she wants to wear her fucking jumpers with cats on, have fucking glitter fairies or snow globes, she can. You can’t fucking tell her not to.”
My brows pull together. “I’m not—”
“Jacob,” Charlotte whispers, stepping forward, but Jacob moves his arm back out of reach.
“No. I should have protected you the last time and I didn’t. I’m not making that mistake again. I know what Mum said, but that’s bullshit. You’re a Carter. We all fucking find love in ridiculous times.”
Charlotte inhales sharply. “Jacob—”
“Stop!” he yells. “I’m done hearing you tell people you’re okay. You’re not fucking okay.”
“I’ve been you,” I blurt out, keeping my voice calm, even.
He draws back, his expression tight with anger. “What?”
“My sister, she was attacked on her way home from school a few years ago. It only went so far but it left a lasting impression on her soul. It hurt her in a way I’ll never understand, and for a while, I blamed myself.” His expression relaxes somewhat but now his anger is replaced with confusion. He reminds me of a scared kid in the middle of making a choice on whether to fight or run. “I realised later that my blame, my guilt, was projecting onto Nora and giving her more to stew and stress over.”
He looks to his sister, the guilt clear for us all to read. “I, I…”
“I get it; you want to protect her. You want to make sure she isn’t hurt again, and that’s not a bad thing, but you have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. Even if this was more than we have said, I still wouldn’t hurt her.”
He glances at his sister, his eyes watering. “I’m sorry. I’m just angry I couldn’t be there for you.”
She rushes to him, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s okay. I love you too.”
He clears his throat. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
She chuckles and pulls back. “Let’s go eat.”
“Yeah, maybe we can make one of Uncle Max’s blood vessels burst,” Hope suggests cheerfully.
Landon claps Jacob on the shoulder. “Or we could get our dads to fight again.”
Wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, Jacob sniffles. “Nah, that’s too easy.”
Charlotte turns to me when they head up the path. “Thank you for what you said.”
“I meant it. I made her feel worse than she was already feeling and I had no right to do that. It wasn’t about me or what I was feeling. And for a moment, I forgot that.”
Her green eyes sparkle as they fill with tears. “You really do want to help women defend themselves.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
Her shoulders straighten. “Then I’m going to do the very best I can to help you. I have books on this kind of stuff and I’ll learn as much as I can.”
“And you’ll have a great teacher,” I tease.
“Your sister is really lucky,” she declares. “Maybe one day I will get to meet her.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, then follow her into the house.
This was only meant to be about self-defence, but I have come to realise that you can’t just categorise a Carter. They worm their way into your life, and if you’re not careful, your heart. And I don’t need that kind of drama.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLOTTE
The silence in the car is uncomfortable. I’m not sure if I should bring it up or keep acting like it never happened. With my family, it’s always best to pretend it never happened.
“So, um, that was interesting,” he comments, and I collapse back into the seat, grateful he’s actually talking to me.
“I really am sorry. They are just really protective,” I explain, glancing out of the window. “And maybe a little crazy.”
“I got that when your dad put the wax strips on the table,” he rumbles, chuckling under his breath.
“He, um, he likes having smooth skin?”
“And when your uncle got the scissors out and then spent a majority of the time spinning them whilst glaring at me?”
“He was jealous of your hair?” I reply. “I mean, even I’m kind of jealous of your hair.”
He laughs and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “And the incident, during which your mum tackled your dad to the floor so he couldn’t attack me?”
“No, she was, um, trying to stop him from entering the room?”
“What about when your dad picked up the knife because my arm grazed yours?”
“He really likes that knife?”
I tense, a part of me waiting for the scolding to come. For him to tell me I’m an embarrassment, that my family are.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, he chuckles, and although a part of me isn’t surprised—he isn’t Scott—there is a part that is relieved. Relieved I can be myself around him without worrying if I’ll do or say something wrong. I relax back into my seat.
“Charlotte,” he murmurs.
I let out a breath. “Okay, they are a lot crazy; like, a lot, a lot.”
The laughter that spills past his lips is contagious. “It’s fine. You have a great family and no one was hurt.”