The Twisted Road to You (Perfect, Indiana Book 4)

by Barbara Longley

  “No offense intended.” Ryan waved his hand around the table. “None of us sitting here tonight are exactly what you’d call normal, Wes. That’s what unifies us. My wife has already lined up a sitter to come to our place Friday night. Our kid is down for the count by seven thirty or eight, tops. The sitter can take care of Tyler, too. You’ll be among friends, and the two of you could probably use an evening out. Put a little fun into your lives. See how the two of you do together in a social setting before you make any decisions.”

  Wes pinched the bridge of his nose. Weariness pressed into him from all sides. “I don’t know. With everything that’s going on, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. I probably wouldn’t be good company. Besides, Carlie didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the prospect when Paige brought it up with her the other night. She has to work at the diner early the next morning.

  “Besides”—Wes shook his head—“she hates the idea that everyone in Perfect knows everyone else’s business. Carlie has a past she doesn’t want uncovered. You know what I mean?”

  “Her past is safe with us, and anyway, it’s her present that counts.” Ryan turned his coffee mug around a few times. “Believe me, I know how she feels, but I also know that once her history is exposed to the light of day, she’ll get over it.” He met Wes’s eyes. “I did.”

  Ryan had lost his fiancée in a tragic accident before he enlisted in the army, and he blamed himself for her death. He’d been suicidal when he arrived in Perfect, self-medicating with alcohol. Ryan had hidden the pain from everyone, playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette every night until Noah’s sister, Paige, intervened.

  Wes had heard the tale in group about how Paige had thrown Ryan’s gun into the Ohio River the morning she found him passed out with the suicide note and a vintage revolver beside him. If anyone knew about hidden pasts, it was Ryan. Wes gave him a slight nod.

  “Nothing could appear more normal than going to poker night with your friends,” Noah said. “Am I right?”

  “I guess.” Wes pushed his chair back and stood up. “If I can talk her into it, we’ll be there. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning.” He reached for his wallet. “Speaking of Carlie, I need to see her before I start my shift tonight if I’m going to ask her about tomorrow night’s poker game.” Glancing at the bill beside his plate, he pulled some cash from his wallet and set it down on top of the slip of paper. “You two have given me a lot to think about.” He snatched his jacket from the back of the chair.

  “Remember”—Ryan grinned—“I have the twentieth and the twenty-fifth.”

  “Screw you,” Wes retorted. Laughter trailed him all the way to the door. He climbed into his SUV and headed toward Perfect. Surrender had its perks. Maybe, but he didn’t know if he could surrender. Somewhere along the way, the betrayal and hurt he’d suffered at his ex-wife’s hands had gotten tangled up with his combat PTSD until he could no longer decipher which was which. His head could still make the distinction, but not his gut. Neither could his heart.

  Did he have to say out loud to Carlie that he wanted to get involved? Couldn’t he just slip quietly into this whole relationship thing without a declaration on his part? At this point, he didn’t even know if she’d agree to go out with him. He’d save face and leave himself an out if he kept quiet, kept it casual. Two friends hanging out, that he could manage. Slip a toe into the water, see how it went and back out if need be. No harm, no foul.

  He’d start with poker night.

  By the time he parked his SUV behind L&L, the palms of his hands and his forehead were damp with sweat. By the time he’d climbed the steps to the third floor, his legs shook and his heart had lodged itself in his throat.

  He was a Marine, dammit. He sucked it up, unlocked the door and strode inside. Slipping out of his jacket, he looked around and listened in an effort to locate his target.

  The apartment was quiet, but light shone from the living room. After he hung his jacket on a peg, he unlaced his boots, took them off and set them by the back door. He didn’t want the sound of his strides on the hardwood floor to wake Tyler. Plus, doing so bought him a little time to get himself together.

  Swiping his damp palms down the legs of his jeans, Wes walked toward the light. Things hadn’t entirely unbent between him and Carlie since their argument at the sheriff’s office. He had no idea how she’d respond. Still, he was willing to take the chance. If she said no, he could claim he’d just been suggesting an activity that would appear to the world that they were resuming life as usual.

  When had he turned into such a chickenshit? He found Carlie curled up on the couch with some kind of craft project on her lap. Cross-stitch? “Carlie.”

  She raised her gaze to his. “Wes.”

  “Would you like to go to poker night with me tomorrow?” She didn’t answer, and his heart pounded so hard he could hear it inside his head. “Paige has a sitter already lined up for Sean and Ty.”

  “Sure,” she said, her voice hesitant. “Sounds like fun.”

  She smiled slightly, and the breath he’d been holding left him in a dizzying rush. “Good.” He nodded like a bobblehead. “Good. Well . . .” He gestured with his thumb toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go fix something to eat during my break tonight at work.” He’d moved into the babbling-fool stage. Wonderful.

  “I already packed a meal for you—leftovers from the pot roast, potatoes and vegetables Ty and I had for supper.” Her attention returned to her project.

  “You did?” His chest filled with a tantalizing warmth. “Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Carlie.” OK, now he sounded like some kind of stiff tape-recorded phone message. We appreciate your call. Leave your name and number and we will get back to you . . .

  Carlie eyed him, amusement lighting her pretty blue eyes. “Why, you’re entirely welcome, Wesley. Thank you for noticing my thoughtfulness.”

  He swallowed the groan rising in his throat and backtracked to the kitchen. Inhale. Exhale. Concentrate on bringing your heart rate back into the normal range. Wes focused on making coffee.

  He’d done it—made the first move. Shaking and sweaty, he felt as if he’d been through the spin cycle of an industrial-size washing machine. He placed his hands on the kitchen counter and closed his eyes. He’d slipped his big toe into the water, turned a corner in his life and taken a risk. He and Carlie had a date. Did she know it was a date? He hoped not.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “THE MALLOYS’ YARD LOOKS LIKE a used-car lot for pickup trucks and SUVs.” Carlie grinned. “With the occasional soccer-mom minivan thrown in for good measure.” A couple of cars followed them down the long drive. The poker games would start in about twenty minutes, enough time to get Tyler settled with the sitter.

  She held her covered bowl of pasta salad on her lap as Wes drove slowly over the bumpy ground in search of a place to park. They’d be safe, all right. It looked like half the town’s population showed up for poker night. Thank heavens her black eye had completely healed. She didn’t want to deal with the curious stares from those few who hadn’t heard the gossip or come into the diner in the past couple of weeks.

  Wes brought his SUV to a stop. “Ready?” He peered into his rearview mirror at Tyler.

  “Are Toby and Lucinda gonna be here?” Ty asked in a tight voice.

  “Not this time, partner.” Wes unbuckled his seat belt. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to suffer through an evening with a toddler and a teenager.”

  “But . . . I’ll be upstairs, and you’ll be downstairs.” Tyler repeated what Carlie had explained to him earlier. “Right?”

  “That’s right, and if you need anything, you can come find us,” Wes told him. “Let’s go.”

  Carlie waited while Wes got Tyler out of his booster seat. She was almost as nervous as her son. At least she’d gotten to know Paige, Cory and Ceejay a little better, so she wouldn’t be completely surrounded by people she didn’t know.

  Wes held Tyler’s hand as the th
ree of them walked to the house toward the well-lit veranda. “The marshals are here, aren’t they?” Lord, she sounded just like Tyler. She knew the marshals followed her everywhere, but she still needed reassurance.

  “They’ll be outside watching the house and yard, and the sheriff is also here. I saw his truck parked on the grass.” He put his arm around her. “Everything is going to be fine. Let’s relax and have some fun tonight.”

  Carlie nodded and bit her lip. Wes ushered her and Tyler through the front door into the foyer. Delicious smells from the kitchen washed over her from all the food people brought to share. A cheery fire burned in the fireplace in the great room, and the house was filled with warmth, light, conversation and laughter.

  “There you are,” Paige called as she approached. “I’m so glad you all decided to come tonight.”

  Ryan joined his wife. “Let me take your coats. We’re putting them in the den.” He pointed to the door just off the foyer.

  “Wow, Paige.” Carlie looked around. She handed Wes the bowl so she could get herself and Tyler out of their coats. “Your house is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. We like it. The design is based on the old farmhouse that stood here before we bought the property.”

  Carlie traded the coats in her hand for the bowl, and Wes went off with Ryan to deposit their things in the den. “Where do you want me to put this?” she asked, holding up her offering for the snack table.

  “In the kitchen.” Paige leaned over and put her hands on her knees. “I’m glad you’re here, Tyler. You, Sean and the sitter are going to have your own party upstairs.”

  “We are?” His eyes widened.

  “Yep. Pizza and a movie.” Paige straightened. “How does that sound?”

  “Good.” He smiled shyly. “I like pizza.”

  “Come on, you two. We’ll drop the food off in the kitchen, and then I’ll take you upstairs.” Paige started down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Carlie took her son’s hand and followed. People milled around, and she noticed a number of card tables had been set up in the great room that served as the living and dining room.

  “Hey, Carlie,” Cory called and waved. Her fiancé, Ted Lovejoy, stood beside her, along with the town butcher, Denny Offermeyer. Paul Taylor was part of the group, too. Ted lifted a Solo cup of beer in greeting, and Paul tipped his head and smiled.

  Carlie waved back. Once they got to the kitchen, her jaw dropped. The cozy room looked like something out of a country decor magazine. Antique kitchen tools hung on the walls, along with old-fashioned signs advertising fresh eggs, vegetables or farm equipment. Granite countertops, country-style cabinets, every modern amenity possible and the same gleaming oak floor covering the rest of the first level completed the perfect picture. “I want your kitchen, Paige. In fact, I want your whole house.”

  Paige’s smile grew wider, and her eyes sparkled. “This is my favorite room.” She sighed. “Ryan and I enjoy going to flea markets and antique stores, poking around and finding things we can use in our home. He’s got such an artistic eye. His talent comes in handy when decorating. Wait till you see Sean’s room.” She greeted a group of people standing by the counter and introduced Carlie and Ty to them.

  Paige set the pasta salad on the counter with all the other containers and slow cookers. “Ryan painted a mural in Sean’s bedroom. Come on. Let’s head upstairs, and I’ll show you.” She led them back to the front of the house and up the stairs to a baby gate at the top.

  The second-floor landing opened into a large space the Malloys used like a family room. A sectional couch, TV and children’s toys filled the space. Paige led her to the first door on the left.

  Inside the cozy bedroom, Sean sat on the carpeted floor with a pretty blonde who appeared to be around fourteen or fifteen. She had the look of a Lovejoy and bore a strong resemblance to Ted. A pile of wooden blocks was strewn around in front of the toddler, and he was trying to stuff one of them into his mouth. As soon as Sean saw his mom, he dropped the now soggy block and grinned, then got up and toddled over to her with his arms outstretched.

  Tyler moved to stand in front of the mural Paige had mentioned. Pasture, ponies and cherubic little cowboys wearing cowboy hats and boots and holding lassos filled the entire wall. “I have planets and stars that you can see in the dark in my room,” Tyler said. “This is cool too, though.”

  Paige shared a grin with Carlie as she hoisted her son to her hip. “Tyler, Carlie, this is Allie. She’s one of the many Lovejoy cousins in Perfect and Ted’s niece. She’ll be spending the evening with you and Sean. Allie, this is Carlie Stewart and her son, Tyler.”

  “Hi, Tyler. I’m glad you’re here.” Allie smiled. “You can help me keep Sean busy. We’ll have our pizza soon, and once Sean is in bed, you and I can watch a movie.”

  “OK,” Ty said. He sat down on the carpet and began building a tower with the blocks. “Does Sean have any Legos?”

  “Not yet.” Paige set her squirming son back down. “He’s still too young for Legos. Sorry.”

  “That’s OK.” Tyler shot her another shy smile. “I like blocks. Come on, Sean. You can help me,” he called to the toddler.

  A grin lit the boy’s face, and he squirmed until Paige set him on the carpet. He plopped himself down next to Tyler and promptly batted over the tower of blocks with a hearty sound of glee. Tyler laughed and began to gather the blocks together again. A frisson of pride in her son shot through Carlie. He was so sweet with Sean. Ty had a compassionate and loving nature with everyone, and he always stuck up for others in his class.

  Somehow, despite all the bad decisions she’d made with her own life, she’d done something right by her son. Carlie started for the door. “Wes and I will be right downstairs, Ty. If you need us, you can come get us.”

  “I know, Mom.” Tyler was already stacking the blocks again. He didn’t even glance her way.

  “Thanks for watching my son for me, Allie,” Carlie said. “I’ll have to get your name and number before I leave. I’m always looking for babysitters.”

  “I’ll write them down for you, Ms. Stewart. I’d be happy to watch Tyler for you sometime.”

  Ten minutes later, everyone began to purchase their poker chips, signaling that it was time to begin the games. Groups drifted to the tables set up in the great room. She and Wes joined Noah, Ceejay, Ryan and Paige at the oval oak table in the dining room.

  Noah handed Carlie a laminated piece of paper. “We made these up for newbies. It tells you what the different hands are, and what beats what.”

  “Oh, thanks.” Carlie took it and started reading the list. “It’s even in color.” She held it out for Wes. “Do you already know how to play?”

  “I do, but it’s been a while.” He arranged his chips in front of him. “If I need to take a look, I’ll let you now.”

  “I’ll keep it on the table between us.” Carlie set it down.

  “I should warn you.” Wes glanced around the table. “I have a competitive streak.”

  Noah laughed. “You haven’t met competitive until you’ve played poker with my sister.”

  “Hey.” Paige shot her brother a mock scowl. “Shush. You’re pretty cutthroat yourself when it comes to winning.”

  The banter between Noah and his sister sent a pang of longing through her—and envy. The two were close, and Paige had told her how protective her older brother was toward her while they were growing up. Would she and her brother, Ron, ever reconcile? Carlie doubted it. Forcing her thoughts away from her dysfunctional family, she looked around. There had to be about twenty people here tonight, all talking and sharing laughter. Dammit, she was going to relax and enjoy herself. No more brooding. “Let’s get started.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’m looking forward to winning all your chips away from you.”

  “Oh?” Wes glanced sideways at her. “It’s a game of strategy and wits, and you’re a novice. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of beginner’
s luck?” She shot him a look of challenge. His answering smile melted her insides.

  “We keep the stakes pretty simple.” Ryan pointed to the chips in front of her. “The white chips are worth a nickel, the reds are a dime, blues are a quarter, greens are worth fifty cents and the black chips are a dollar. Everybody starts out with the same amount, and we tally up afterward. The value of the chips is printed on the back side of that sheet in case you forget.”

  Carlie turned the cheat sheet over to take a look.

  “Tonight we’re going to teach you how to play,” Ryan told her. “But don’t expect us to go easy on you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry.” Carlie shook her head. “I don’t plan to go easy on the rest of you, either.”

  “That’s my girl,” Wes said with a chuckle.

  His girl? His words settled around her like a soft, warm blanket. Did he mean it, or was he just taking part in the banter flying around the table? Her nerves sizzled and popped with awareness. Leaning slightly, she caught a whiff of the aftershave he used, mixed with the clean scent of soap and his natural smell. Delicious in a very masculine way—and familiar. She reveled in the rare sensation, the feeling of belonging rushing through her. Wes gave those feelings to her, and more.

  A ping of guilt shot through her. She’d been so unfair to him the day the two of them had met the marshals. She’d dumped all her frustration and stress over his head like he’d been the cause. He hadn’t raised his voice against her in anger, nor had he laid blame at her feet. Even though he’d done nothing wrong, Wes had apologized. For the past two weeks he’d stood by her side with a steadfastness she’d never known in her entire thirty-four years of existence.

  She risked a glance his way and found his warm hazel eyes fixed on her. Her temperature shot up a few degrees. She smiled, and for once she didn’t hide what she felt for him. The pulse in his neck quickened. Heat flared in his eyes, and her breath quickened.

  “Hey, you two,” Ceejay quipped. “Time to quit making eyes at each other and start playing poker.”