Only One Bed: Rebel Carter

Over the next week or so, I’m going to be interviewing each of the eight authors in the Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope). I’ve put them in alphabetical order and a quick reminder that this blog uses Amazon Affiliated links.

Rebel Carter is a romance writer, barista, and plant enthusiast who lives in Colorado, America whose books reflect the diversity of the world. She hopes that her writing offers a space where love of all shades and expressions are seen as valid, real and embraced.

Your story in the Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope) is Only One Flower Bed. What was the inspiration for behind the story?
I’m from the south and have a love of plants and gardening. When I was replanting a new crop of plants, I came up with the idea for Remi and Grant’s story because what’s more delicious than an Only One Bed slant on a second chance romance with low key enemies-to-lovers vibe?

What do you love about the Only One Bed trope?
I love the forced proximity of it but I also only really vibe with it in certain circumstances such as second chance, or a couple that has an established history between them so that it feels natural with JUST the right amount of pining away mixed in. I love a story where they both want the contact but act as if they don’t.

Are any of your other books connected to your story in the Only One Bed anthology?
Yes! But just not yet, the Plenty, Georgia small town series will be making it’s debut this year. Remi and Grant’s full love story along with other of Plenty’s citizens. It’s a beautiful place full to the brim of charm and romance. I hope you enjoy your first look into the world of Plenty with Only One Flower Bed!

Buy Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope) here:

Excerpt: Only One Flower Bed

“Afternoon,” Grant offered, coming to stand at the end of the truck bed. Remi nodded, and offered a grunt in greeting.

“Ah, looks like it’ll rain,” he went on, clearing his throat when Remi turned towards him with a sack of fertilizer over one shoulder. The other man’s eyes lifted to the sky for a second before he shrugged and nodded.

“Suppose so.” Remi tossed the bag onto the ground beside Grant and moved to grab another. “Got your fertilizer. Tower lights too. Be done in a few if you tell me where to put it.”

Grant swallowed at the words. It was Remi’s way of telling him to give him space, to not talk to him, and Grant sighed playing along for the sake of keeping the peace.

“Sure thing. You can bring it in back. Near the orchids.”

“Sounds good.” Remi nodded, his shoulder-length brown hair falling forward into his face when he bent to grab another bag. He tossed that onto the ground beside the first and continued about his work. Even if the other man didn’t want to talk, he hadn’t told him to leave and so Grant watched him work in relative peace, the way he usually did when Remi came round.

The air around them was hot and humid sticking to their skin and if it hadn’t been from the breeze the impending storm was kicking up, it might have been unpleasant, but it wasn’t—certainly wasn’t with the view Grant was afforded by a working Remi, shirt sleeves rolled up and hair free from the knot the man usually wore it in. Remi’s features were sharp and severe, his countenance stern but that wasn’t surprising, not when it came to Grant or anything to do with him. Not as far as Remi was concerned.

Grant sighed and cleared his throat cautioning another glance at the silent man as he worked. Another bag of fertilizer landed beside him and he stepped back and said, “it’s hot out yet. Want a water?” His question was completely innocuous, innocent at best, it was humid and hot, the air holding the heavy feeling that told of an upcoming summer storm. From the feel of it, this one was going to be more than a passing shower. He glanced up at the sky and pretended to be interested in anything else but Remi.

When in doubt, and confronted with a man that made your heart stop, focus on…the weather? He would have scoffed at himself if it wasn’t the only thing he could speak on intelligibly. He much suspected this was why the weather was a favored topic of small talk in the South.

God, he’d give anything to run his hands through that hair again. He knew it was softer than it looked, just like the man it belonged to. He glanced at Remi when he wasn’t even given the normal grunt in response. He’d stopped working and was looking at Grant with a look he couldn’t quite figure out. Not annoyed or angry, but curious? Except that it was gone in a flash and once more the familiar hard look slipped over Remi’s face like a mask.

He pursed his lips. “M’fine.”

“I know but–”

“Don’t need nothing from you. Never have. Never will. Let me work, dammit.”

Grant held up his hands and was unable to stop the startled laugh that puffed free from his lips. “Well, all right then,” he said and shook his head taking a step back and then another, “was tryin’ to be friendly is all.”

“Should know by now I don’t want it.”

“See that now. Make no mistake.” Grant dropped his hands and turned on his heel. He didn’t need this. If Remi was bent on holding a grudge from near back seven years then the man was welcome to it. He had a business to run, and if peace wasn’t on the table then it would just have to be one of those things in life.

Worse things had happened to better people. Not having Remi Wilson would be marked as one of the lesser things to happen in history. Even in a place like Plenty. But even as he thought it Grant bit his lip because from the cold and hollow feel their exchange had left him with, he wasn’t so sure.

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