Bittersweet Surrender (30 page)

Good grief, this was Carly Westlake.

“I've got to run an errand,” he said, abruptly standing.

Carly looked as confused as he felt.

“I'm sorry. I'll tell you what: I'll think about it, okay? And pray. Definitely pray. I want to do the right thing. I really do,” he said, backing out quickly, all the while trying to steel his heart against the vulnerable look in her eyes.

She looked after him and said softly, “Thank you, Scott.”

“See you later.” He ran as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him.

After staying away as long as he could by
fixing leaking faucets and stubborn machines, he finally made his way back to the office, praying all the while that Carly was gone.

“Hey, stranger,” Carly said when Scott walked into the office. “I've hardly seen you all day.”

“Oh, hi,” he said, stumbling over the trash can beside his desk. The metal can clanged against the floor.

Carly studied him. “Scott, are you all right?”

He stuffed the spilled papers back into the trash and set the can upright. “What? Oh, I'm just fine. I have a lot on my mind, what with the taxes and all,” he said.

She watched him in a way that made him more nervous. He walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Carly stood up before he could reach for the pot. She grabbed his hand and stopped him. Cold.

“Okay, now I know something is up. You never drink coffee in the afternoon.”

Her delicate hand still on his. So soft. So warm. Her perfume swirling around him like a slow gas leak, attacking his senses, making him weak in the knees, wearing him down. He swallowed hard. Twice. A hot sensation spread through his gut.

“You know, I've—I've—” He glanced at his watch. “That's it. I've got to meet a client. I'll talk to you later.” He yanked his hand free, tripped past her desk, gathered his things, and made a hasty retreat—but not before taking one last whiff of her light, sweet perfume as he left the room.

Never in all her years of knowing Scott
had Carly seen him so . . . so . . . well, she wasn't sure what it was. Discombobulated? She shook her head and cleared off her desk for the evening. He was working too hard, no doubt about it.

She had just enough time to go check on C. J. before Magnolia would have dinner prepared. She had to admit it was nice having someone cook for her again. Even if that someone did force healthy food down her. Actually, she had Magnolia to thank for the twelve pounds she'd lost. Thanks to her stepmom, Carly didn't have much of an appetite these days. Charred, boring food could do that to a person.

Still, gotta love that weight loss.

After telling Magnolia she would be back around seven, she left for C. J.'s house, praying all the way over that God would open the doors of communication between them and show her how she might be able to help him.

Once she pulled into his driveway, she was relieved to see his car there. Although the fact that it wasn't in the garage might mean he was ready to go somewhere.

Heavy gray clouds hung low and threatening. The smell of rain was in the air. Again. Carly prayed she wouldn't have to face Magnolia in the glow of lightning and candlelight tonight.

Uncertainty marked Carly's steps to the door, where she rang the doorbell.

“Oh, hi, sis. I thought you were Jake. He's supposed to be here,” C. J. said when he saw her. “Come on in.”

One step inside the house and Carly set aside her concerns regarding Jake's arrival. She could tell Rita wasn't there anymore. Clothes were thrown over the backs of chairs, half-read newspapers and DVD covers were strewn about. Soda cans and dirty plates littered tables. The living room smelled of stale food and cheap alcohol. Carly's stomach clenched for her brother.

It was best for Rita to stay away. If her sister-in-law saw C. J. right now, she'd probably crumble and run back to him, and Carly felt he needed this time to work through some things.

C. J. brushed crumbs from a chair and flopped down. “You want some pizza?”

“No thanks.” Though she didn't see anything, she brushed her chair off for good measure before sitting down. “But if you were getting ready to eat, go ahead.”

“No, I just finished. But I had a few pieces left from last night's dinner.”

Maybe she should send Magnolia over here to whip him into shape.

He leaned forward, perched his elbows against his knees, and looked at her. “So to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

She scanned the beer bottle beside him and knew he had already been drinking.

“Look, C. J., I'm worried about you.”

He waved her away with his hand and took a swig from his bottle. “I'm fine.”

“Obviously not.”

He put the bottle down and stared at her. “Did you come over here to judge me or what? I don't need it. Don't you think I do it to myself every single day? I condemn myself enough for all of us.” He got up and walked around the room.

“C. J., what are you talking about? You've made some mistakes. But it's not too late to fix things.”

He whipped around to face her. “There's no fixing this, Carly. You always thought you could fix everything. If that's true, where's Gary? What about your”—he pointed to her chest and she must have looked as mortified as she felt because he finished with—“cancer?”

She felt like a punching bag as he walloped her with every word.

“I didn't say I could fix everything, C. J.” She stood now. “I'm just saying you don't have to go through this alone. We can help you.”

“Who's ‘we'? In case you haven't noticed, my wife left me. And she doesn't know the half of it.”

“Why do you keep saying that? What's wrong, C. J.? Let me help you.”

He walked up close to her, a momentary gentleness smoothing the anger from his face. His fingers touched her hair. “Even you can't fix this, little sister. I've messed up big time. Everyone will hate me once they know.” He walked over and took another ambitious swig from his bottle.

Carly stepped toward him. “Please, C. J., let me help you.”

He turned to her, tears in his eyes. “You'll hate me too.”

“I promise I won't hate you, C. J. Nothing could ever make me hate you. Ever. Please tell me what it is so I can help you.”

With the back of his arm, he swiped the tears from his face, stopped, and looked her square in the eye.

“I killed Ivy.”

nineteen

Carly stood there, speechless. Her legs
threatened to fold, but she steadied herself with a nearby chair. “That's not true, C. J. Ivy was in a car accident.”

C. J. sat in a chair and rocked his head between his hands. “No, no, no. I did it.”

A knock interrupted the moment. It made Carly reluctantly leave C. J.'s side. But he never looked up.

When she opened the door, Jake barged past her. “I told you I was coming right over, C. J., what is she doing here?” When C. J. didn't answer, Jake turned to Carly.

“What did you do?”

“What did I—”

“He's drunk, can't you see that? You can't believe anything he's saying right now.”

“Who said he said anything?”

“Did he?”

Carly was sick of all the secrecy. Besides, C. J. had said Jake already knew about it. She put her hands on her hips. “What did he tell you about Ivy?”

“Nothing.” Jake walked over to C. J. “Snap out of it, C. J. You're drunk.”

“Oh yeah, like that's gonna help.”

“Go make him a pot of coffee, so we can sober him up.”

“Stop ordering me around. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not under your command.”

“Fine. I'll do it myself.” He swished past her. “Forgive me for thinking that his sister might want to help him.”

Okay, that hurt. She wanted to help him. She needed to swallow her pride where Jake was concerned and help her brother.

Together they made the coffee and soon had several cups down him.

“Now, tell me what's going on, C. J.,” Carly insisted.

“Nothing's going on. What do you mean?”

“I told you. His drink was talking,” Jake said.

“C. J. You told me that—” She glanced at Jake, then back at C. J. “You told me that you killed Ivy.”

C. J. exchanged a glance with Jake. “I was talking out of my head,” C. J. said. “Don't know what I was saying.”

Carly studied him. “I don't believe you. I think you knew full well what you were saying.”

He kept quiet.

“C. J., I need to know. What did you mean by that statement?”

“Leave him alone, Carly. Can't you see he's going through enough right now?” Jake waved her away.

“Stop it, Jake. C. J. is my brother, and I have a right to know. It's none of your business.”

“No, it's his business, and he doesn't need your judgmental attitude on top of it all.”

Was that what he thought of her? What had she ever seen in this guy? She was ready to deck him.

“It doesn't help to cover for him, Jake. That's what's wrong with C. J. Everyone has always covered for him. He has to learn to stand on his own two feet, just like everyone else.”

“Now, listen, Carly—”

“She's right, Jake.” C. J. said the words barely in a whisper, but it stopped Carly and Jake in their tracks.

“C. J., be quiet—”

C. J. shoved Jake aside. “No, Jake. This time
you
be quiet. I'm tired of everyone else talking about me as though I'm not in the room. I've made a mess of things. I have to come clean. I can't take it anymore.”

Jake shook his head. “Well, don't come crawling to me when you need money and she won't give it to you.” He stomped across the room and out the door.

Carly didn't know what to think about Jake's behavior. Maybe he was trying to be protective. And then again maybe he had a reason for the secrecy.

“He's just trying to protect me, same as you, you know,” C. J. said, softening Carly's heart a tad. “Don't hold it against him.”

She'd have to think about that one.

“You'd better sit down, Carly. This won't be easy. For either one of us.”

“Somehow I thought I'd find you here.”
Melissa Winters sauntered over to Scott's table at the coffeehouse.

He looked up.

“Okay if I join you?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry.” He moved the chair out for her.

“You looked as though you were deep in thought when I came in.” Her dark eyes sparkled when she spoke.

For a moment when he looked at her, he saw Carly's face. He rubbed his eyes. “Oh, you know, work and stuff.”

She smiled. “You're not another one of those all-work-and-no-play types, are you?”

“I like my work, but I know when to play too.”

She put her coffee down. “Is that so? Prove it.”

Warning signs flapped in his brain and something told him he was getting in way over his head. Rather than respond, he took a drink from his cup.

“Let's play,” she said.

He spurted coffee down his chest.

Her breath caught a moment, then she laughed. “Well, I didn't mean to get you all stirred up.”

He coughed and decided not to drink any more coffee. Not only did he not want to choke, but suddenly, it was hotter than an Indian summer in the coffeehouse.

There was that sparkle in her eyes again.

“Excuse me,” he said, cleaning himself off.

“No problem. Here, let me help you.” She leaned into him, mere inches from his face, her perfume strong enough to put him in an iron lung. Not light and sweet like Carly's. She used a napkin to dab at his shirt, but he had a feeling she was taking a lot longer than she needed to. He cleared his throat and tried to back away but she said, “Not yet.”

Before he could make another move, her lips were on his. As he pulled away, he heard the bell over the door sound.

“Well, aren't you two getting mighty cozy?” Jake said once he reached their table.

Scott was relieved to see him. Melissa, on the other hand, didn't look all that pleased. Jake didn't seem to notice. He pulled up a chair.

“How are you doing, Jake?”

Jake scratched his jaw. “I saw Melissa's car in the parking lot and thought I'd stop in and say hello, but I can see she's already busy.”

Melissa merely smiled and scooted closer to Scott.

“I've got to hand it to you, Scott. You do have a way with the women.”

Okay, this visit wasn't going quite the way Scott had hoped.