by Cheri Allan
Instead, he leaned closer, the warm brush of his body making her jump. “Do you need help?” he asked.
“Why would I need help?”
“For one, I think your brother’s pissing on the mailbox.”
Liz sucked in a mortified breath and clenched her eyes shut. “He’s not,” she gasped.
“Nope. Sorry. My mistake. It’s the bird bath.”
She turned from the driveway as tears of humiliation burned the back of her eyes. “Please go,” she said.
“I would, but I’ve been meaning to talk with your brother for a couple weeks now. Seems as good a time as any to catch up.
“And besides, his car is blocking mine.”
HIGH AS A KITE.
Carter watched Liz’s brother more or less re-zip his fly. Who knew what John had ingested, smoked, or shot himself up with this time? Better to stick around a bit to make sure Liz didn’t need the help she’d already declined.
Carter pasted a benign grin on his face and waved. “Hey, John! Long time no see!”
John spun around slowly, a bewildered expression crossing his face as he squinted toward the front stoop.
“It’s Carter. Carter McIntyre.”
John stumbled up the path and stopped. He frowned at them. “Carter? Beth? Whaddr you doin’ here?”
Liz gaped at her brother, her nose wrinkling as he approached, then seemed to recover her composure. “I’m on vacation. Helping mom and dad clean up the house. What are you doing here?”
“Need to crash,” John mumbled, his face turning slightly green in the pale porch light. “Feeling a little... off.”
Liz’s eyes shot to Carter. “He can’t drive in this condition,” she murmured in alarm.
“He got here,” Carter muttered back. “But you’re right. Do you want me to take him home?”
John swore and they looked toward him. “Can’t go home,” he mumbled. “No more. No more…”
Liz let out a short breath. “He’ll have to stay I guess.”
Carter helped John negotiate the threshold, grateful he wouldn’t be risking his truck’s upholstery. “Where do you want him?”
“The couch? I don’t think stairs are a good idea. I’ll get some old sheets to put on it, though. Just in case.”
Carter nodded and helped John sit so he could take off his shoes. John was so far gone, he only mumbled incoherently from time to time. It was a miracle the guy had made it there in the condition he was in.
Liz returned with an armload of bedding and began to spread sheets over the sofa. She wrinkled her nose again as Carter helped John collapse onto the makeshift bed. “He positively reeks. Do you think we should take him to the hospital?”
“No. I think he’ll sleep it off.”
She nodded and allowed Carter to lead her away. She looked pale, worried. And deeply embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry.” The apologies started pouring out of her as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t have to see this. Or deal with this—”
“Neither should you,” he interrupted.
She nodded then, an abrupt movement, her lips a taut line.
“You know this doesn’t reflect on you, Liz. You don’t have to explain it away.”
“I know.” She said the words, but he could see she felt she were somehow responsible for her brother’s actions. Her eyes met his. Grateful. Weary. “Thanks for helping.”
“No problem.” He shuffled from foot to foot, unwilling to leave. Unwilling to leave her looking so... lost. “Will you be all right? I can stay if you want.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He doubted she’d sleep a wink, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. “Does eight o’clock work for you? I usually start earlier, but considering—”
“Eight o’clock is fine.”
He walked to the slider, not wanting to remind either of them of the unpleasant reality lying on the living room couch and wished he could recapture the easy camaraderie they’d shared earlier. “Thanks again for dinner.”
She nodded and her fingers brushed his arm. It warmed him in ways he couldn’t explain. “Carter?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m glad you came. I had a good time tonight. Before—”
“Me, too.” He flashed her a smile and inclined his head fractionally. He wanted to kiss her. To be honest, he wanted to do much more than kiss her. And, for a moment, he almost gave in to the impulse to take that half step forward and lose himself in her full, soft mouth. Instinct told him she wouldn’t push him away.
Common sense told him they’d both regret the timing.
Swallowing his disappointment, Carter reached up to brush a strand of hair from her temple. His thumb lingered on her cheek, drawing an idle circle. He wouldn’t draw her to him, he told himself. He wouldn’t take advantage.
He gave her a half smile and dropped his hand. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she replied. Her eyes filled with some emotion he couldn’t name as she took a step back, but then her hand snaked out at the last minute to grab his arm. “Wait! You can’t leave!”
He stopped, relieved. He didn’t have to feel guilty after all. If Liz wanted it, too…
“You need to move John’s car, remember? I’ll get his keys.”
Carter bit his lip. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.”
“SHIT.”
Liz winced as her brother’s hoarse curse colored the morning air. There were a couple thumps and grunts in the living room, a few more curses, then the kitchen door opened abruptly. John stood, wavering and bleary-eyed, blinking at her. “Beth? What are you doing here?”
“Making breakfast.”
He made a grunt of acknowledgement as he wandered in and slumped into a chair, eyes bloodshot, skin ashen. “I guess I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Liz pursed her lips and slid the over-easy eggs she’d been cooking onto a plate next to toast then turned to hand it to her brother.
He paled. “On second thought...”
Served him right. She set the plate at her own setting and sat in front of it then took a sip of coffee and watched John scan the counters with hooded eyes.
He hoisted himself from his seat, helped himself to a couple of cookies then pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. He didn’t bother with a glass.
He sat down again, and his head sank to the table.
“So what are you doing here?” she asked after a bit, unsure whether he was still conscious.
He lifted his head and wiped a hand over his eyes. “Visiting,” he said. “Long time no see.”
“You’re not here to see me. You had no idea I was here.”
“Can’t a brother be glad to see his kid sister?” He took a bite of cookie, but at her look, he sighed. “Okay. I came to crash. Had a rough night....” He let his words trail off as he half-heartedly swiped cookie crumbs off his shirt onto the floor and stared at the floor as if it had severely disappointed him.
“Real rough. I should have called the cops on you. Drinking and driving? You’re thirty years old, John!”
“Stop yelling. It’s giving me a headache.”
“Stop yelling? You could have killed someone! You could have killed yourself!”
“Relax. I haven’t had a drink in months. And I didn’t drive drunk.” He frowned, concentrating. “I remember stopping at that store… and then driving here. I was listening to that song, you know? The one about the Pina Coladas? I hate that song. So I opened a beer… Next thing I know I’m waking up on the couch with some cat from The Walking Dead staring down at me.”
“You got soused sitting in your car in the driveway? Don’t you have a place of your own?”
He grimaced and took a swig of milk. “I’m between places right now. Been staying with a… friend off and on.” He sighed and wiped his face again. “But, that’s not working out anymore.”
Liz made a mental note to get fresh milk. “Well, just so you know, you’ll have to find anot
her place to crash going forward. Mom and Dad are selling the house.”
“Huh,” he grunted by way of reply. He took another half-hearted sip of milk and stuffed another cookie in his mouth. “Got anything else? Other than,” he waved at her plate, “those?”
“Just some leftover pot roast.”
“Surprisingly, that sounds really good right now. Do you mind?” Liz shrugged, and John rummaged in the fridge, taking out containers and sniffing the contents as if they’d been in there long enough to go bad. “Is my memory playing tricks on me, or was Carter McIntyre here last night?”
“He was here.”
“Wasn’t interrupting anything was I?”
Liz shoved the eggs to the side of her plate. Somehow, they’d lost their appeal. “No, you weren’t interrupting anything. He came for dinner. He’s putting in a patio for Mom and Dad. We were just catching up.”
“Hmm.” John loaded a plate with pot roast and shoved it in the microwave.
Liz gathered her dishes and set them in the sink. “When you’re done eating all my food, you know your way out.”
“Oh, come on, Beth. I could really use—”
“Your car keys are in the vase on the mantle.” At John’s perplexed expression, she continued. “For some reason that escapes me now, I thought it best you not drive last night.”
“Beth?”
“What?”
He heaved a sigh, his eyes inexplicably watery. “Don’t you want to stick around a bit? Catch up?”
Liz paused in the doorway, resentment rising in her throat as the pot roast spattered the inside of the microwave. She swallowed. “I think we’ve done all the catching up I’m in the mood for.”
He nodded, grimaced again. “Sure. But… before you go...” He glanced guiltily up and away. “…could you loan me a little cash?”
With a sound of disgust, she left the room.
She needed air.
What was wrong with him? Didn’t he even care that Mom and Dad were selling their childhood home? And how could he sit there and make innuendos, eat all her food, and try to bum money off her when he still reeked of his binge from the night before?
Impulsively grabbing her coat, Liz shoved her feet into sneakers and stalked out the front door. She closed it firmly behind her and stopped for a moment on the front steps to let the morning sun wash over her.
She swallowed, unclenched her jaw and reminded herself to breathe.
Her brother and his life choices weren’t her problem anymore.
Liz took another deep breath and glanced at her watch. 8:42. Hmm. So much for Carter arriving by eight. She wouldn’t give him a hard time about being late today. With any luck, it’d give John a chance to clear out before he made any more comments that would only embarrass her and taint the enjoyment of an innocent evening with an old friend.
She started down the driveway when classical music sang out from her coat pocket. Liz popped open her phone.
“Hello?”
“Liz, it’s Grant! Where the hell have you been? I texted you a question an hour ago and the stakeholder meeting is in ten minutes!”
“Sorry. Something... came up.”
“Are you avoiding me? Is this about that personal matter we talked about a few days ago? If so…”
“No! Of, course not. That’s— we’ll talk. Like you said.”
“Okay. Good. Sorry. I’m just stressed. Ethan asked me to justify the timetable you set out for implementing the new CSR software and you didn’t put that info anywhere in the presentation, I didn’t—”
“It’s in the appendix.”
“It is? Oh, thank God. Okay. Great. I just need to know one other thing then…”
A familiar pickup rounded the corner at the end of the drive.
Liz listened to Grant with half an ear. She replied on autopilot, then ended the call, more grateful than she should have been to see a particular dark-haired contractor bearing nothing but a coffee tray and a smile.
Lord, she needed a break.
“Good morning.” Carter’s voice cut into her thoughts as he grabbed a bag in his other hand and kicked the truck door closed.
Liz’s heart skipped a beat. “Good morning.”
“I see John’s still here.”
“He’s leaving soon.”
“I brought doughnuts.” Carter waved a bakery bag temptingly.
“Don’t bring them inside unless you plan to share. The freeloader masquerading as my brother is still emptying the fridge.”
Carter winced and waved her over to his pickup. “I’ve got just the picnic spot then.” He pulled down his tailgate and spread his jacket over the end. “Hop up.”
With a tentative nod of agreement, Liz scrambled onto the tailgate and accepted one of the coffees he handed her. “I have coffee inside,” she said, even though she took the cup. Hot, fragrant steam tickled her nose.
“Yes, but your coffee is inside... and we’re here. This is much better.”
“How?”
“Coffee consumed in the sunshine always tastes better.” A smile teased the corners of his mouth.
“Is that so?”
“Try it. You’ll see.”
She took a tentative sip, her heart fluttering in her chest as he watched her. “You may be onto something here.”
“Either that or it’s the company.” He winked.
Her heart did another flip-flop. The man was far too free with his flirtatious expressions, not that she was complaining. “Definitely the sunshine,” she said, grinning into her cup. “So what’s in the bag?”
Carter hopped onto the tailgate beside her. “Not telling until you pay the toll.”
His thigh brushed hers casually, sparking an answering heat. She didn’t move away. “The toll?”
“I get a chess rematch after lunch.”
“Why would you want a rematch? You won.”
“I’m just trying to be fair. You were all tipsy on wine and on the verge of a chocolate chip cookie coma when we played last night. I was virtually taking advantage of you.” A smile played around his lips as he eyed her over his coffee.
“Taking advantage, huh?” Liz tugged the bag from his fingers. Dear heavens, what would it be like for this man to actually take advantage of her? She peered into the bag to hide the blush coloring her cheeks. “Tipsy, you say? Okay, buster, you’re on. Though, I warn you now. Lunch may be take-out given the way my brother was inhaling the leftovers.”
“Even the pot roast?”
At Liz’s nod, Carter scowled. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I won’t be sorry to see him leave.”
“You’re not the only one,” she said, sinking her teeth into a chocolate-covered doughnut. “You’re not the only one.”
CARTER RESTED HIS ELBOW on his shovel as he watched John walk down the front walk. The guy was barely over thirty, but his gaunt features and weary bearing made him look a decade older.
Maybe now was a good time to get a bottle of water… and some information. Carter headed toward his pickup. “You heading out?”
“Yeah.” John paused. What was probably meant as a grin twisted his features.
Carter eyed John’s car. Rust holes dotted the bottom of the door. “How are things going these days? Working?”
John eyed him warily as he pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it. “Getting by.”
“I hear you.” Carter leaned amiably against the side of John’s car. “Didn’t know you were still in the area. Haven’t seen you around much.”
“Oh, you know.” John blew some smoke toward the trees and shrugged. “I’ve been… away. Sort of a vacation. Seeing some friends. You know how it is.”
“Sure.” Carter smiled and reached into his pocket for a mint. Popped it into his mouth. According to the local rumor mill, the last vacation John had taken had been a stint in the county jail, but Carter wasn’t anyone to point fingers. He’d made his share of bad choices over the years.
There was a
time they’d hung out together. Cruising around town. Sharing a few beers at the old quarry. It seemed a lifetime ago now.
“So, you, ah, doing okay?” Carter asked after a bit. “You were in rough shape last night.”
John took a long drag and toed the ground in front of him. “I’ve been better.”
“Surprised the crap out of your sister.”
John grimaced. “Sorry about that. I got some bad news is all. Shook me up.”
He took a long drag and exhaled slowly through his teeth.
Carter rolled the mint around on his tongue. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know a guy named Rick Mercer, would you?”
John frowned and took another drag. “Why?”
“Just thought you might have run into him. He hangs out at Lucky’s sometimes, heard he had quite the party a week or so ago.” He hadn’t heard a thing, but he had a sense it was true.
“What kind of party?”
“You know. Just like old times.” Carter bit into his mint with a crack and flashed a grin.
John frowned, crushing his cigarette under his heel. “Kind of got the impression you weren’t into that anymore.”
Carter shrugged and swallowed the mint. It tasted sharp on his tongue. “I enjoy a good time now and again.”
It was eerie how easily it came back, the friendly banter, the unspoken exchanges. It shocked him how quickly he fell into the rhythm of it, how natural it still felt after so many years. He could be seventeen again, standing in the rain behind a beat up Chevette and bumming a cigarette and a beer off Beth’s older brother.
By the time John was on his way, Carter had all he’d hoped for right in his back pocket. There was someone he needed to talk to. Someone who needed to realize he was being given a second chance before it was too late for him, too.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
____________________
“YOU ARE AWARE THERE is a grocery store in town, right?”
Carter’s cousin, Jim, frowned as Carter pulled a container of cole slaw out of the refrigerator and set it next to the sandwich makings already there. Yes, Carter knew there was a grocery store, but, truth be told, it was boring sitting at home eating by himself. And Jim’s wife, Kate, had fallen into the habit of inviting him over for dinner on the days she did admin tasks for the landscaping business at Carter’s home office.