Bittersweet Surrender

by Diann Hunt

  It would be silly to think there could be anything romantic between them. Stress made people do crazy things. He was totally in love with Ivy. No way Carly could compete with that. To say nothing of Ms. Z-Cup, who was in hot pursuit of him. And then there was that little matter with C. J. and Ivy.

  No, it would never work.

  “Scott Hammond, you are a total idiot.” Scott slapped his right fist against his left palm. “What were you thinking?” He plopped down on the sofa and Superman hustled over to him, nuzzling his head beneath Scott’s hand. Absently, Scott gave the hound a couple of scratches behind his ear, then stood up and started pacing.

  Now what would he do? He’d fixed things for good, that’s what. In light of his changing feelings, he’d have to find someplace else to work. He just couldn’t work with her now. Seeing her day after day—especially if things got serious between her and Jake.

  Oh, what had gotten into him? He was an idiot.

  The doorbell rang and Scott went to answer it.

  “Hey, Scott.” Melissa Winters stood there in all her glory, dressed in black pants and a sparkling black top, her thick dark hair pulled to one side, makeup applied to perfection.

  “Melissa. How are you?”

  “Mind if I come in?”

  “Uh, sure.” He stepped aside, a little baffled why she’d be calling so late in the evening.

  “Thank you. I was in the area, and when I saw your lights on, I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

  “Um, that’s nice.” He left the front door open in hopes she’d get the hint he didn’t plan on her staying. Unfortunately, she made herself comfortable on the sofa, making it clear she wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon, so he offered her a Coke.

  “Do you have diet?”

  “Yeah.” He scooped up the gym shoes in the room.

  “Great. Give me some of that.”

  “Will do,” he said, stuffing the gym shoes and dirty shirt in the front hall closet, making a mental note to get them later.

  “So how have you been, Scott? You haven’t called me in a while,” Melissa said with a pout when he handed her the drink.

  “I’ve been really busy lately.” He sat down in his recliner.

  She laughed. “Oh, you. Why don’t you come over here and sit by little ol’ me?”

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought she batted her eyelashes after she said that. Not that he wanted to be rude, but she kind of scared him.

  “Come on,” she said, patting the seat beside her.

  “What is wrong with me?” He smacked his head with his palm. “I should have offered you something to eat. How about some popcorn?” He hopped up from his seat and ran to the kitchen before she could stop him.

  “That’s really not necessary,” she yelled out, but he was already in the kitchen.

  While it was popping, he stood facing the microwave, wondering how he was going to get out of this when Melissa stepped up behind him and put her arms around his waist. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding me.”

  He swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath, he pulled her hands off his waist and turned to face her. “Look, Melissa, I like you, I really do—”

  She lifted her arms around his neck. “Good. Prove it.”

  He heard something. “Did you hear that? Like someone’s voice?”

  “Oh, you,” she said, pulling him to her. She gave him a firm, long kiss. Superman barked and Scott tried to pull away, but Melissa held his lips against her own.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice said.

  Startled, Scott turned toward the voice in the doorway. He pulled Melissa’s hands down.

  “Carly.”

  twenty-two

  Carly’s cheeks burned. “I’m sorry. Your front door was open and I called your name, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I wanted to drop this off.” She lifted his wallet. “It must have slipped out of your pocket at the coffee shop.”

  She looked at Melissa. “Hi, Melissa. Sorry to intrude.” She turned and walked away.

  “Excuse me,” Scott said to Melissa. Carly heard his feet running toward her as she headed for the front door.

  “It’s not what you think,” he said.

  She turned to him. “Scott, you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s none of my business.”

  “Let’s go outside,” he whispered. He shoved open the front door and ushered her outside, walking her to her car. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about Melissa and me.”

  Carly fumbled with her keys and tried to click open the locks. Oh, why were her hands shaking?

  “She’s a friend, but she wants more out of it than I’m willing to give.”

  Call me paranoid, but you looked pretty friendly with her in the kitchen, Scott.

  “Carly, did you hear me?” Scott grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.

  “You don’t owe me an explanation, Scott.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. Not right now. She felt too weak, too vulnerable.

  He lifted her chin till their eyes met. The intensity of his blue eyes, the feel of his hand beneath her chin, melted her resolve.

  “I know I don’t, but it’s important to me that you understand. I don’t want to lose you.”

  The soft huskiness of his voice soothed her like warm afternoons beneath the shade of an old oak tree.

  “You won’t lose me,” she said, eyes unblinking.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” A tremble rippled through her. “I’ve got to go.”

  He reluctantly dropped his hands. “We’ll talk more later.”

  She waved good-bye and watched as Melissa came out to meet him.

  As much as Carly tried not to admit it, her feelings for Scott were changing, and she knew his feelings for her were changing too.

  And what would she do about the thing with C. J.? Scott was bound to find out sooner or later. Better that he hear it from her.

  She had to be the one to tell him.

  “So you think it ’s a good idea, the Vera Bradley bags, I mean?” Carly brushed the pencil shavings from her desk into the trash, then looked up at Amber. She was glad things were finally back to normal between them.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Eagerness flashed in Amber’s eyes. “Between that, the chocolate, the excellent service and products, what woman could resist?”

  “You see, that’s exactly why I discuss these things with you. Scott doesn’t get nearly as excited as we do.” Carly laughed.

  The phone rang. “Uh-oh, typical Monday. Duty calls.” Amber ran to her desk to answer the phone.

  Carly had set the wheels in motion for stocking Vera Bradley bags. She felt hopeful that things were going to work out at the spa. Business was better these days and with her recent improvements, she was confident about the future.

  If only she could feel as confident in her personal life.

  She stuffed an invoice into a billing file and shoved the cabinet to a close.

  Things between her and Jake had sputtered to a mere fizzle, while a spark had ignited between her and Scott. A spark that she feared could not grow, no matter how badly she wanted it to. Once he learned the truth about Ivy and C. J., he would get as far away from Carly and her family as he could. That thought made her knees weak. She depended on him for so many things.

  No time to think about it now.

  “Have you heard from Scott?” Melissa’s voice startled Carly and she whipped around to face her.

  “Good morning, Melissa. He called in sick this morning.”

  Melissa grunted. Her expression lacked Southern hospitality. “Lovesick, no doubt.”

  Carly looked at her, puzzled by the comment.

  “Not that it matters. There are more fish in the sea.” She turned and smiled at something Carly couldn’t see.

  Jake stepped into view.

  He resembled a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Listen, Squirt, we need to talk.”

  Meliss
a tugged on his arm. “Not now. I need my coffee.” She lifted a coy smile up to him. He looked at Carly.

  “I’ll call you sometime,” he said, and they disappeared from view.

  The thing was Carly didn’t mind the two of them being together, but when they left, she suddenly felt very alone once more. Gary was gone. Scott was out of reach. She glanced at her chest. She most likely would live the rest of her days alone. She might as well get used to the idea.

  That thought depressed her. She glanced over at Scott’s desk. “Since I’m already thoroughly depressed, might as well take the final tax papers over to Scott. Okay, the fact that you’re talking to yourself can’t be good.”

  Searching through his desk drawer, she came upon a small checkbook. On the inside was written “Chocolate Indulgence.” That rang a bell. Hadn’t Ivy written checks to them? Come to think of it, the spa hadn’t received any invoices from them in some time. Carly couldn’t even remember what products they had gotten from that company.

  She sighed. Served her right for not being more involved in the financial aspect of the business. Each time Carly had reluctantly suggested she could help with the finances, Ivy had reassured her that everything was under control and that she was only too happy to handle those things—in fact, she had insisted on it.

  Neither of them could have foreseen the future.

  Carly decided she’d ask Scott later about the checkbook.

  As she was about to close the drawer, she spotted a small black velvet bag. Her heart sank. What if he was planning to give something special to Melissa? He said they were just friends, but he also said he wanted to talk to her about it later. Maybe he’d just mentioned the friends part so Carly wouldn’t make a scene at his house.

  Panic stripped her of calm. She knew she had no business snooping, but she couldn’t help herself. Before she knew it, her fingers had maneuvered the tiny draw strings open. Dropping the content into her palm, she gasped.

  A beautiful gold ring boasted a ruby setting nestled between a huddle of diamonds. This was no ordinary ring.

  It was her mother’s ring.

  Correction. It had belonged to her mother, but her dad had given it to Carly after her mom died. Unfortunately, when Carly was in the hospital, it came up missing. But how? Why? What was it doing in Scott’s drawer?

  Nausea coiled in her stomach as the possibilities swarmed her mind. It couldn’t be. Scott would never . . . never . . . would he?

  She took deep breaths to calm her quivering heart. No matter how she twisted it over in her mind, she couldn’t make sense of it. Stubborn determination replaced her fear, and she tossed the ring back into the bag. Friend or no friend, she would confront him on it tonight.

  Once the drawstring was secure, she tucked the ring into a zipped compartment in her handbag.

  Heavy steps carried her upstairs. She seemed caught in a tangled web where nothing made sense anymore. The ring was more than a surprise. It was proof positive that she had no one left in her life to believe in.

  Once the vegetable soup was ready, Carly scooped some into a large plastic bowl for Scott. “I’m going over to Scott’s to check on him, Magnolia,” she said.

  “All right, dear. Be careful,” Magnolia called back.

  Checking once more that the ring was still in place, Carly grabbed her Vera Bradley bag and headed out the door. When she arrived at Scott’s house, she carefully maneuvered the bowl of hot soup and leaned against the doorbell. Looking like a character straight out of a Tim Burton film, he finally opened the squeaky door.

  His appearance tugged at her heart, but she determined not to lose her resolve in confronting him about the ring. “You don’t look so good,” Carly said.

  “Well, happy day to you too.”

  She laughed. “I brought you some vegetable soup.”

  Scott stepped aside so she could come in. “Are you sure that was it or did you think I was faking it and skipping out on work?” He followed her into the kitchen.

  “I wasn’t exactly sure, so I figured I’d check it out.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  She opened the lid, allowing the aroma to fill the air. He bent over and took a whiff.

  “That smells awesome.”

  “I’ve been known to cook now and then. Don’t let the word get out, though.” She grinned and he smiled back.

  “So what’s wrong with you?”

  “I had a migraine all day. I’m much better now, though.”

  “Did you tell your face that?”

  “Ouch.”

  She laughed. “Sorry, you just look a little beat up.”

  “I always look like that once it’s over. It drains me.” He stepped closer to her. “I’m not contagious, though.”

  His bold move threw her off. One hand leaning on the countertop, she took a step back. “What exactly does that mean?” She tossed a nervous laugh out there that made her want to laugh all the more.

  “It means I’m not afraid to get close to you.”

  “Scott, are you taking serious drugs?”

  He stepped closer. “No. I’ve just done a lot of thinking today, and I’m tired of playing games.”

  “Games?”

  “Yes. You, me, games.”

  She stopped and he stopped right in front of her. “I’ve agonized over this all day, and I’m just going to lay it out there to deal with it.” He gently caressed her hand into his own, pulled it up to his lips and brushed light kisses over every knuckle while Carly stood there, goose bumpy and speechless. “I love you, Carly Westlake,” he whispered. “I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before, but I do.”

  The ring, she told herself. The ring.

  She opened her mouth to comment, but he placed his fingers lightly over her mouth. “Not yet. Let me finish before I lose my nerve.”

  She gulped. Audibly.

  “I’m not sure when it happened, I just know that it did. Period. It may seem weird, the two of us in that light. Maybe it could never be more than friendship for you. I don’t know. Don’t respond to it right now. I want you to think about it. If this presents a problem in our working relationship, I’ll leave.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Just think it over, will you?”

  She stared at him, simply swallowed, and gave a slight nod.

  His arms dropped to her waist and he pulled her closer to him. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair before his lips melted onto hers like marshmallow cream on chocolate.

  The ring . . .

  She was broken and scarred. Yet Scott’s arms wrapped around her as though she were something precious meant to be savored. Soft and inviting, his mouth moved over hers, searching, longing, hoping. She could feel the light stubble on his face, smell the lingering scent of soap.

  The ring . . .

  Shock gave way to bittersweet surrender as she yielded to more than just a kiss. Her past with all its fears and disappointments dissolved to an uncertain future, knowing God was in full control and He would see her through, no matter how many disappointments life threw her way.

  The . . .

  His lips reluctantly pulled away from hers. His left hand cupped around the back of her head; he nuzzled his face into her hair. “I love you, Carly,” he whispered. “With all my heart, I love you.”

  Carly’s legs trembled; chills covered her body and she prayed she would never wake up from this dream.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace before he grabbed her hand and led her into the living room. She only knew it was wonderful.

  “Now what do we do?” He tried to get her to sit down on the sofa beside him.

  She shook her head. “I need time to think, okay? My head is spinning.”

  “Before you go, I want to give you this.” He handed her a Natalie Grant CD. “Promise me you’ll listen to the song ‘The Real Me.’ Promise?” His eyes searched hers, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

&
nbsp; She nodded.

  “Thank you.” He bent over and kissed the top of her head. “See you later.”

  She practically raced out the door before she could change her mind. Another kiss and she’d drag him to the marriage altar before he knew what hit him.

  She remembered she hadn’t asked him about the checkbook. And the ring! She’d forgotten about the ring!

  Deep breath. She’d just have to ask him once he got back to work. There had to be a reasonable explanation. He couldn’t kiss her like that and betray her, too, could he?

  Once she was home, she wondered how she had gotten there. Like the characters in those old Dial commercials, she was pretty sure she’d floated. Fortunately for her, she only had to watch one episode of Murder, She Wrote before Magnolia went to bed. Carly didn’t want to talk tonight. She needed time to think. Lots of time.

  After getting ready for bed, she slipped the CD that Scott gave her into the player, then eased between her sheets and closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the words. The gentle music poured over her thirsty soul like a warm shower. The lyrics spoke of the veiled person she was to others but how God could see the real her—the one hiding deep inside—and how He loved her still. He had a plan for her life and if she would but let Him reach into the core of her, He would help her through it all.

  The words worked through her, kneading her soul with truth, reaching into dark corners that hadn’t seen the light of day since Gary left her. Jesus’ healing touch radiated over raw pain, warming, easing the agony with promise of brighter tomorrows.

  Tears drenched her hot face and clouded her swollen eyes, slits through which she could barely see. She continued to play the song, over and over, trying to comprehend the truth, the awesomeness of it all.

  Jesus saw the real her. The weak, broken, and frightened whole of her.

  She was weak, but He was strong.

  She was broken, but He was the potter.

  She was frightened, but He had it all under control.

  She was no longer alone. He was with her. Always had been. Through it all, He never left. Gary did that.

  Her heart had hardened to the truth. A wall of stone. Deep down, she had blamed God for everything. He could have stopped the illness that drove Gary away, but He didn’t.