CHARLOTTE

  A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel

  Book Six

  By Lisa Helen Gray

  Copyright ©

  Copyrights reserved

  2020

  Lisa Helen Gray

  Edited by Stephanie Farrant at Farrant Editing

  Cover Design by Cassy Roop at Pink Ink Designs

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of the international copyright law, which subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This book is licensed for your enjoyment. E-book copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are all products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or establishments is purely coincidental.

  FAMILY TREE

  (AGES ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE THROUGHOUT BOOKS)

  Maverick & Teagan

  - Faith (engaged to Beau)

  - Lily (married to Jaxon)

  - Mark

  - Aiden (with Bailey)

  Mason & Denny

  - Hope

  - Ciara

  - Ashton

  Malik & Harlow

  - Madison (Twin 1)

  - Maddox (Twin 2 – with Amelia)

  - Trent

  Max & Lake

  - Landon (Triplet 1 – with Paisley)

  - Hayden (Triplet 2 – with Clayton)

  - Liam (Triplet 3)

  Myles & Kayla

  - Charlotte (with Drew)

  - Jacob

  Evan (Denny’s brother) & Kennedy

  - Imogen

  - Joshua

  Contents Page

  FAMILY TREE

  Contents Page

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENT’S

  Books by Lisa Helen Gray

  PROLOGUE

  Music blares through the club, vibrating through the back of the booth I’m sitting in. The stench of sweat and beer lingers in the air as bodies mill around the busy hot spot. Tease is a popular strip club and has all kinds of clientele.

  Bored, single chicks being one of them.

  I swirl the paper umbrella in my cocktail, staring at the orange liquid as it makes a tiny tornado.

  Sighing, I sit back in the booth whilst people-watching those in the club and immediately spot Candy. I send her a wave and smile as she approaches me, her tiny sequined thong the only thing on her toned body. Candy isn’t her real name— it’s Harriet— but she likes to keep her anonymity working here. I guess she doesn’t want her other job or the university she attends to find out she’s a stripper—not that there’s anything wrong with it.

  She sits down next to me, placing a shot next to my cocktail that’s still full. “What’s up tonight, Charlie? You don’t seem yourself. Misty is worried too.”

  Misty is Olivia’s stripper name. All my friends have one, and it’s always how they are addressed in the club, no matter who they are talking to.

  Over the past year, these guys have become good friends of mine. I only see them on the odd occasion outside the strip club, but our time together is spent having fun. I love them. They’re outgoing, confident, and full of life. There are times when I wish I could be just like them. They even loaned me and Lily some outfits once, to wear to Faith’s engagement party, but it was a miss. I’m not cut out for high heels and tight dresses.

  I shouldn’t be surprised they would read my mood. They’re very intuitional.

  I turn to look at her. “I’m fine,” I lie, leaning into her so she can hear me. Her sweet perfume masks the smell of sweat coming from the men in the room and I relax a little.

  She nudges my shoulder. “Want a lap dance?”

  I pick up my drink, turning the umbrella once again as I think about her offer. “Not tonight, Harriet.”

  She pulls the drink out of my hand and I glance up at her, startled. “C’mon. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Why do you think there’s anything going on?”

  “Because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you upset.” She pauses for a minute, arching an eyebrow. “And you never turn down a lap dance.”

  She has a point. I do make it my mission not to get sad. As for the lap dance, they’re for research.

  “What do you want from life?” I ask, taking her off guard.

  “Apart from money, I want to buy a holiday home in Spain and own my own business someday.”

  I shake my head. “No, I mean, what do you want aside from that? Do you want kids? A husband?”

  She shrugs. “I’ve never really thought past getting my degree.”

  I fiddle with my umbrella again. “See, I want kids. I want a husband. I want to make someone dinner ready for when they come home. I want to read bedtime stories to my kids.”

  Her gaze softens. “But what about other things?”

  I shrug. “I have everything. I have a great family. I have a business I love. And I write. Books are a huge part of my life, but I want my happily ever after.”

  “You’re so young,” she states.

  “I’m twenty-one this year.”

  “Like I said, still young. You’ve got plenty of time to have all of that.”

  She’s right, I do. I just don’t want to wait anymore. All my generation in my family are pairing off. Faith is engaged. Aiden has a daughter and a girlfriend. Landon, who I miss terribly, is even living with Paisley, who I’m sure will want to start a family soon. Lily is married and I’m sure it won’t be long until she’s pregnant. And now Hayden has found someone. I’m alone for the first time in my life, and as they’re all moving forward, I’m stuck.

  “I guess.”

  “Want to go and see if Dave will let you make some cocktails?” she asks, her bare breasts rubbing against my arm.

  I grab my bag. “No. He’s still mad about me setting the counter and Jen’s wig on fire.”

  She laughs, throwing her head back. “The bitch had it coming. He’s over it. You know he loves you.”

  “I’m going to get back, but I’ll see you next week.”

  She stands and wraps her arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  I smile and it’s genuine this time. “Never. Now the book is finished, I’m good.”

  “You going to do a part two?”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  “I hope so. I’ve loved helping you on it,” she tells me before glancing over my shoulder. “I need to go but I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, you will,” I promise, waving goodbye as she’s called over to another table. I begin my journey through the crowd of tables, weaving in and out until I find my way to the stairs leading down to the exit.

  “Leaving already?” Woods asks.

  I tilt my head all the way back to look at the doorman, then nod. “Yeah. It’s a bit crowded tonight.”

  He grins, showing his dimples. “Didn’t get into trouble this time?”

  I chuckle. “No. But it is getting rowdy in there.”

  As I finish my sentence, the sound of glass breaking reaches us, and Woods is called over the radio. “Go, before it’s brought down here.”

  I nod, clutching my bag as I make my way down the stairs. I turn back as I hit the bottom, seeing one of the other doormen pinning a guy to the wall. I rush out, knowing not to get in the way again, but smash into a hard body. My bag hits the pavement, the contents spilling out all over the place.

  “I’m so sorry,” I rush out, reaching down for my bag. I glance up into the most beautiful round blue eyes I have ever seen.

  My lips part as I stare at him, unable to move.

  “
It’s okay,” he assures me and bends down, helping me pick up my stuff. He lifts up the bullet vibrator Misty gifted me.

  “I’ve not used it yet. It’s clean,” I assure him, and shove it into my bag.

  He clears his throat as we stand and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  “Completely my fault,” I tell him, smiling.

  He glances up at the strip club, then back down at me, his brows pinched together. “Do you work here?”

  I blush at the compliment. Does he think I have the body to work on a stage like that? “No. I’m just heading home.”

  He smiles, and it’s such a charming smile that I melt, wrapping my arms around my stomach. “Me too.”

  “Were you going in there?” I ask, pointing back to the strip club.

  He shakes his head. “No, I’ve just finished work and was about to get a drink and something to eat before heading home.”

  I tilt my head, pressing my lips together. “It’s a bit late to finish work.”

  He shrugs. “It comes with my job. Long hours.”

  Unsure of what to say, I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

  “I’m just about to get some food. Care to join me?” he asks, and I look up in surprise.

  I think about it for a moment. Any other time I get put in this situation, either my family intervene or I say no.

  But I’m done with saying no.

  If I’m ever going to find my future husband, or have any children, I need to put myself out there.

  And what better way to do it than with a beautiful stranger, one that helps a klutzy female pick up her belongings.

  I paste on a bright smile, my stomach rolling with nerves. “I’d love to.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHARLOTTE

  A yawn slips free as I push the heavy oak doors to the library open. The smell of books immediately hits me, and I begin to relax. Books are life, and this place is my dream. Being here soothes a restlessness inside of me.

  Tonight, I’m not meant to be here, but Marlene—my newest member of staff—called me as I was leaving the family to say she had locked up and I had a parcel waiting for me on my desk. I had to come to see what it was since I knew we weren’t expecting deliveries, and I hadn’t ordered anything.

  I flick on the office lights, my lips parting at the bouquet of Hyacinths in a square glass vase placed on my desk. A smile lights up my face as I reach for the card attached.

  Maybe this is Scott’s way of saying he’s sorry he couldn’t make it to another family gathering. I desperately want them to meet him, and he them.

  It’s the first time he has bought me flowers though, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. If he wants to be forgiven, it has worked—not that I can begrudge him for long.

  However, I’m unsure why he bought hyacinths. They represent a lot of things: death, sorrow. But this particular colour—yellow—means jealously.

  I unfold the note, my brows pinching together as I read over the words.

  Beauty wilts at every hour.

  Once plucked, the countdown begins.

  Neglect will rot such delicate petals without their sturdy roots.

  But love and care can slow the clock down and allow beauty its time in the sun.

  Does it mean, I’m the flower and I’ve been plucked? Does he mean, our countdown, our life, has just begun?

  Or is the note telling I’m going to rot without his love or because of his love?

  Whatever the meaning, the thought was still there. I lift the vase up, bringing my nose down to breathe in the flowery scent. I savour the moment, warmth blossoming inside of me as I clutch the vase to my chest.

  My first ever flowers from a guy who isn’t family.

  Maybe not attending the family gathering earlier had upset him more than I realised. He did say he felt bad but it couldn’t be helped. I had been so consumed with feeling let down once again that I hadn’t stopped to think about how he would feel.

  He told me he isn’t in a rush to meet my family, he likes having me to himself, and that family complicates things. And my family really do tend to complicate things. It isn’t just about that though; his job keeps him from making his personal life public. He’s a guy working his way up into politics, so I can understand that. It’s just hard because I hate feeling like my world is split.

  With that in mind, I flick the office light off, needing to get back. He hasn’t messaged me but I’m hoping, at some point, he will, or that he will show up at mine. I make my way back out of the library, locking the large double doors behind me.

  Today might not have been the best start, but it’s most certainly looking up. Flowers. He got me flowers. Beautiful ones too. The green glitter bow sparkles under the streetlamp as I walk around the corner, heading up the path—mindful of the potholes—to my home.

  I love this house. It’s different from all the modern homes, which is what made it stand out to me. The only thing I’d change is the driveaway. There’s a cul-de-sac of houses further up, and although most own their homes, the driveway isn’t owned by any one of us. The council explained that we need planning permission, but refused to pay for the funding, and paving a road this big isn’t something I can do. I am planning to fight and appeal their decision. The road is only wide enough to fit one car up at a time, and it’s hard when you need to get through or avoid a pothole.

  Clutching the vase in one arm, I use the other to search my pocket for my keys. I begin to hum a tune I heard earlier on the radio, wishing I knew what the song was called and who the artist was.

  Fingers clasping around the cold metal, a triumphant smile lights up my face.

  “You’re back then,” Scott declares, and the vase and keys slip free from my grip, both dropping to my feet.

  I clutch my chest, staring down at the broken mess of the flowers. It’s shattered. “Scott. I didn’t see you there.”

  “Where did you get those flowers from?” he asks, his tone aggrieved.

  I bend down, picking up the large chunks of glass and moving them to the side until I can come out with a broom. Tears gather in my eyes as I clean up the broken present. “They’re from you, aren’t they?”

  He snorts as I pick up the flowers and keys. I put the key into the lock and push open the door.

  “They most certainly aren’t. For one thing, they are tacky as hell.”

  I flinch and my chest constricts. They aren’t from him? “But I thought—”

  “You thought you could lie to me?” he rumbles, shutting the door behind me. I place the flowers on the side table and turn to him.

  “Scott, I thought they were from you. They were delivered to the library.”

  His gaze scans over my body, and I nervously tug at the hem of my jumper. It’s cold out, and this is the thickest one I have. It has a pink kitten on the front. I know he doesn’t like it when I wear things like this. I duck my head, feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

  His lip curls. “What are you wearing?”

  “I’m washing my… my other clothes,” I admit. I want to impress him, to feel sexy and grown up, but every time he looks at me like that, I feel anything but. And I only have so many of my other clothes; clothes that make me feel stiff and uncomfortable. But for him, I wear them.

  He runs his fingers through his hair, his blue eyes boring into me. “What are we doing, Charlotte?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He points to his chest, then to me. “Us. Is this going anywhere?”

  “I—”

  “Because I want more than this. I’ve been more than a gentleman in giving you time, but now this…” he states, pointing at the flowers.

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” I tell him, my voice low.

  “We’ve been seeing each other for a while, and although the foreplay has been okay, I want more. And now I come back after spending all day in the office and you’ve received flowers,” he spits out.

  I rush forward, placing my hand on his chest, but he smacks it away, averting his gaze.

  Tears gather in my eyes. “Scott, no. I don’t know who these flowers came from. I swear. You know how I feel about you.”

  He pushes my hand away again when I go to reach for him, and my heart begins to crack. I’m losing him.

  “Then why won’t you let me fuck you? Why do you constantly push me away if there isn’t anyone else in the picture? I’m trying here, Charlotte. I really am. I’ve been patient.”