“You’re welcome. Wait here for an orderly with a wheelchair to take you downstairs.”
Richard nodded and left.
Carlie reached into the tote bag. “Sweatpants next.”
Wes let her help him get dressed, and then he eased himself down to sit on the bed to wait for the orderly with the wheelchair. “You’re on vacation?”
Carlie nodded, a small smile lighting her features. “After everything you’ve done for me and Tyler, I’m glad I have the chance to repay the favor. I took two weeks off to take care of you. It’s the least I can do since—”
“Let’s get something straight between us right now,” he said, his voice gruff. “You and I”—he ran his hand over the back of his neck—“we both have a tendency to take on blame where we don’t need to. I believe it’s my fault you walked into that house without checking it first for your ex, and you think it’s your fault I was shot.” He shook his head. “We’re not going to do that anymore, Carlie.”
“We aren’t?” Her eyes widened and grew bright.
Wes reached for her hands and drew her to stand between his knees. “No, we are not. The fault lies with Baumann. Period. From this day forward, we’re going to let it go.” He lifted her hands and kissed one palm and then the other. “Deal?”
She nodded, put her arms around his neck and held him against her chest. God, he’d wanted to feel her arms around him since the moment he’d arrived at the hospital. Home. She was home to him.
“Knock, knock,” the orderly called from the doorway. “Got a wheelchair with your name on it. You about ready to bust loose?” He left the chair in the hall and came in to scan the bar code on Wes’s wristband.
“Hell, yes.”
“I’ll let you wheel him to the main entrance.” Carlie pulled a jacket he didn’t recognize from the tote bag and helped him into it. Then she gathered her things. “I’m going to go get my car and pull it up to the main entrance. I’ll pick you up there.” She leaned down, kissed him and left.
What seemed like an eternity later, Wes was in the front passenger seat of Carlie’s Ford and heading home. “Whose jacket am I wearing?” He ran his hand over the navy-blue outer shell.
“Yours.” Carlie glanced at him. “I picked that up to replace the one that . . .” She bit her lip. “The marshals took your old jacket as evidence, and besides, it was pretty much ruined.”
“Ah. Thanks. I like this one.” He glanced at her, studying her profile. “I miss Tyler. Can’t wait to see him. What did you tell him?”
“Only that you were hurt in an accident.” She sighed. “I don’t really know how to deal with telling him his biological father shot you and that Jared is . . . I have an appointment set up with a child therapist. I don’t want to tell him what really happened without providing him with professional support. He’s already been through so much.”
Wes reached for her hand. “You’re a good mom, Carlie. The best.” Then he closed his eyes and rested.
“We’re here, Wes,” Carlie said, nudging him while unfastening his seat belt.
“Mmm, good.” He stretched. “So glad to be home.” Carlie came around and helped him out of his seat. He put his arm around her shoulders to steady himself. “I think I’m ready for a long nap. It’s the painkillers. They knock me out.”
They entered through the loading dock doors to find all the staff gathered. A handmade banner that said WELCOME HOME, WESLEY! hung over his workstation. His eyes stung. “Man, it’s good to be back.”
“Oh, Bunny,” Cory cried before giving him a hug. “We’re all so glad to see you.”
A round of greetings, handshakes and pats on the back sapped the last bit of energy out of him. He needed to get off his feet. “Thanks for the warm welcome, but I think I need to get upstairs and lie down.” He wiped the sweat from his face.
Kyle came to his side and propped him up, and Ted opened the freight elevator. Carlie got on last and moved to his other side. With his friend’s help, Wes shuffled into the small space.
The elevator jerked into motion and started the ascent to the third floor. “Being injured bites.” He leaned against the padded wall, hoping he wouldn’t pass out before making it to his bed.
“I hear you,” Kyle said. “Carlie, I’ll help you get Wes situated, and if you need any help, just text me. I’ll be right downstairs.”
“I will, thanks.”
They reached the third floor, and Kyle opened the metal gate. Wes pushed himself off the wall. The scent of pine or spruce wafted over him in the hallway. A Christmas wreath hung on the door. Nice. Carlie unlocked the door to the living room and swung it open. Kyle once again offered his support. “Wow,” Wes said, surveying his apartment.
A Christmas tree, decorated with a dazzling array of colorful ornaments, had been set up in the dining room, with a red-and-green velvet patchwork tree skirt spread out underneath. The buffet held a row of glass candleholders with winter scenes etched on the outside and greenery decorating the base. A number of holiday figurines had been placed on end tables and the bookshelves. “Looks like the Christmas elves have been busy.”
“I hope it’s OK.” Carlie took his jacket and opened the closet door. “Do you like it? I have a six-year-old, and—”
“I love it, Carlie.” His throat closed up. “Smells good in here, like sugar cookies and evergreens. Smells like Christmas.” All the fantasies and dreams he’d had for a loving wife and children of his own washed through him, weakening his knees even more. His apartment had always been nothing more than a place to live, but Carlie and Tyler had transformed the place, turning it into a cozy home. He didn’t want to lose that warmth or the sense of family. Not now. Not ever.
He couldn’t look at Carlie for fear he couldn’t hide the intensity of his roiling emotions. Blinking against the sting in his eyes, he kept his gaze fixed upon his surroundings.
“Tyler and I made cookies. We figured you’d have a lot of visitors now that you’re home, and we wanted something to offer your guests.”
All he could manage was a nod in response.
“A few of the guys and I went out to Carlie’s old place and helped her bring more of her stuff here, including the Christmas decorations.” Kyle started him forward. “Do you want to be out here on the couch or in your bedroom?”
“Here on the couch would be good.” Wes looked around the room at all the festive decorations, and a surge of hope filled him. Maybe his dreams weren’t dead after all. “I’ll have access to the TV and books.”
By the time Kyle and Carlie helped him get comfortable on the couch, his eyes were drooping. Weariness mixed with utter contentment swept him away. Carlie covered him with a blanket and kissed his forehead before he drifted off to sleep. He was a happy man, and if being shot was what got him to this place, then he’d gladly do it all over again.
Noise in the hallway woke Wes—Tyler’s chatter and multiple sets of footsteps. He pushed himself up, anticipation revving his pulse. Amazing how much he’d missed his little buddy. The apartment door opened, and Tyler ran in, followed by Carlie, Brenda and Wes’s parents. His mom held a pan of something, and he caught the scent of her famous lasagna. Brenda held a covered plastic bowl with a foil-wrapped loaf of garlic bread on top. His mouth watered. Real food at last.
“Look who I ran into downstairs.” Carlie grinned.
“Hey, good to see all of you, and that lasagna smells wonderful.” Wes kept his gaze on Tyler, and his eyes stung. Had to be because of his current weakened state.
The women headed for the kitchen, and Tyler bounced over to him. “John says he’s your daddy.”
“That’s right. He is.” Wes smiled at his father. “Have a seat, Dad.”
“How you feeling?” His father took a seat.
“Better now that I’m home, and I have my little buddy here to cheer me up.” He ran his hand over Tyler’s buzz cut.
Tyler put his hands on Wes’s knees and stared at him. “Mommy said you got hurt in a accident.�
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Wes grinned and blinked at the sting in his eyes. “That’s right, and the doctors stapled me back together.”
“They stapled you?” Tyler giggled. “My teacher has a stapler on her desk, but she won’t let us use it by ourselves. Can I see?”
“Sure.” Rex came into the room, stretched and yawned. Once the old dog had figured out he was free to sleep on Ty’s bed, he spent most of his time there. He ambled over to nudge Wes’s hand in greeting. It was almost too much, and he ached from the fullness of his life, seeing everything through a new light. Carlie and Tyler, his family . . . he truly was a wealthy man. He lifted his T-shirt, revealing the staples.
“Like Frankenstein,” his dad said, chuckling.
“Cool.” Tyler’s eyes went as wide as saucers.
Brenda walked back into the living room. “Kyle will be up once his shift is over, and we’re all staying for supper. Come on, Tyler. You and I need to take Rex outside.”
“OK, and then I get to feed him. It’s my job,” Tyler announced. He followed Brenda toward the kitchen, where Rex’s leash hung beside the door.
Wes sighed, basking in the good feelings of being surrounded by people he loved.
“Great kid,” his dad said.
Wes nodded. “And smart as a whip, too.”
“Good woman.”
Glancing at his dad, he nodded again. “Absolutely.”
“We like Carlie. You serious about her?”
He had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat before he could answer. “Yes. Very.”
His dad reached over and placed his hand on Wes’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “That’s good, Wes.” His voice hitched. “Your mother and I want to see you happy.”
All he could manage was another nod. Laughter drifted from the kitchen, followed by the high buzzing hum of the blender turning his meal into baby food. “Sounds like Carlie and Mom are getting along well.”
“I’m sure Maggie is telling Carlie about some of your exploits as a youngster.” He snorted.
“Dad, do you still get a jolt to the heart when you see Mom, or did that stop after you two got used to each other and settled down?” The sensation disappeared pretty quickly with his ex, and their relationship had become more habit than love story. He and Tina had been so young when they married. They’d never talked about what each of them wanted out of the deal, either. He suspected what they’d felt for each other had been more hormonal than emotional.
The way he felt about Carlie? Something different altogether—soul-deep, growing by the day. He had no prior experience with the depths he now plumbed.
“Your mom still sends my pulse racing, son. Even more so now that we’re done raising the six of you kids, and it’s just us again. We didn’t get nearly enough of that when we were first married. You came along that first year.” He grinned. “I don’t think it’s like this for most couples, though. Your mom and I . . . well, we’re just lucky in love, I guess. Nobody makes me laugh like my Maggie. She’s the best part of me.”
“I want that with Carlie.” He’d have to ask around, find a romantic place to take her out to dinner. Candlelight and linen tablecloths, and he’d buy her flowers. Once he’d healed up a little more, he’d take her on a real date and tell her how much he loved her and Tyler. He had plenty of time. His heart tripped. How would she react? Just because he dreamed of becoming a family with her and Ty didn’t mean she wanted the same thing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BY THE TIME CARLIE SAW the Holt family out the door after dinner, Wesley’s lips were compressed into a straight line and he kept shifting his position on the couch. She hurried to the kitchen for his pain pills, an antibiotic and a glass of water. Poor guy, he must be so uncomfortable. She headed back to the living room and glanced at her son, who hadn’t left Wesley’s side all evening. “Go get ready for bed, Tyler, and I’ll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in.” She set the glass of water on the table.
Tyler slid off the couch, his expression uncertain.
Wes studied him. “What is it, partner?”
“Are you gonna get all better?” Eyes wide, he stared up at Wes.
“Sure I am, but it will take some time.”
“You said we never get too big for a hug,” Tyler reminded him, his voice quavering. “Remember?”
“Of course I remember, and I could sure use one right now.” Wes’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he opened his arms. “How about you, partner?”
Tyler rushed toward him. “Whoa.” Carlie caught him by the shoulder before he could slam into Wes’s injury. “Take it easy. Wes is sore.”
“Sorry,” Tyler said, glancing up her. “I forgot to be careful.”
“It’s OK.” Wes drew her son into a hug. “No harm done.” Wes’s eyes were bright as he caught her gaze. Then Tyler moved in his arms, and Wes grimaced.
“Come on, Ty. After I get you to bed, I need to help Wes, so I can tuck him in, too.”
Grinning now, Tyler backed out of Wes’s arms. “You gotta be tucked into bed just like me?”
“That’s right, and I’m not complaining about it, either. It’s nice to have your mom take care of us, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Tyler agreed before bouncing down the hall to his room.
She handed Wesley his pain pill and slid the water closer before following her son.
Once she had Tyler down for the night, with Rex in his customary place stretched out on the end of the bed, she returned to find Wes leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed. His color had definitely improved, and his appetite was good. Overcome with relief and gratitude, she stayed where she was just to stare at him, her heart full.
He opened one eye, catching her midstare. “It’s been a long day. I need to get to bed pretty quick here. I’m beat, which is pathetic.” He ran his hand over his forehead. “I’m going to be completely out of shape by the time I can start exercising again.”
“It won’t take you long to recover your strength. Talk to Dr. Sunderman when you get the staples out, and ask him when you can start exercising.” Moving to his side, she held out her hands to help him up. “Let’s go.”
His breath hitched in the transition from sitting to standing, and she positioned herself beside him when he swayed on his feet.
Carlie stood nearby while he got himself ready for bed—in case he needed to lean on her. She turned down the blankets on his bed and offered support as he eased himself down. “Good night, Wes. Sleep well.” She pulled the covers up around his shoulders and kissed his forehead.
Wesley reached for her hand as she straightened to leave. “Stay with me.”
“It’s only been few a days since your surgery. I don’t want to risk bumping into your incision while I’m asleep.”
“What if I need you during the night?” He yawned.
“I’ll hear if you call out for me.”
“Want . . . arms . . .”
“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” Her words were wasted. He was already out. Still, she stretched out beside him, placed her head on his shoulder and her arm around his chest. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head and sighed.
His familiar warmth and scent seeped into her very bones, filling her with a sense of completion. She placed her hand over his heart, just to feel the reassuring steady beat. Her own heart beat in sync with his, and it always would. Once he was feeling stronger, she’d tell him how she felt. Her insides fluttered at the thought. How would he react to the news that she’d fallen in love with him?
She’d experienced the way he shut down and withdrew into himself when the two of them got too close, or whenever relationship issues came up. He’d already told her he didn’t have it in him to give his heart again, and maybe that hadn’t changed. All he’d ever offered was close friendship, and he only suggested that they could continue to hang out together. Nothing more.
Regardless, she was determined to tell him, even if he didn’t return her feelings. He deserved her ho
nesty, and besides, no risk, no gain. Just . . . not today. Still a coward.
“Make yourselves comfortable.” Carlie set the tray of coffee and cookies on the coffee table. “Help yourselves,” she added. David and Miguel had made a point of stopping by each night for a visit before their shift, and, while grateful for their thoughtfulness, she longed for company-free downtime.
“Thanks, Carlie.” David helped himself to coffee and a cookie. “Where’s Tyler?”
“In bed already,” she said, taking a seat on the couch.
“You’re lookin’ a lot better today, Wes.” Miguel reached for a cookie.
“Thanks. I’m feeling better.” Wes shifted and glanced at the clock.
Wes might last another hour before she’d need to dose him with pain meds and see him off to bed. It had been five days since she’d brought him home from the hospital, and each day he did more for himself. He was well on the way to regaining his health, but he still tired out quickly, and he still suffered a lot of discomfort.
“When are you coming back to work?” David asked around a mouthful of sugar cookie.
“Soon, I hope,” Wes told him. “The staples are being taken out in a couple of days, and I’m going to work a few short shifts next week and see how it goes.”
“Good,” David said. “It’s not that we miss you or anything. It’s just that you’re the only one who can keep Ken’s whining to a minimum. He’s the crankiest guy I’ve ever known.”
“He can’t help it. He’s the way he is because of the traumatic brain injury,” Miguel chided. “Irritability and mood swings are symptoms. Cut him some slack.”
“Well, thank you for the heads-up, Dr. Garcia,” David quipped. “I didn’t know, and even now that I do, I’m telling you, it doesn’t make him any easier to be around.”
“Ken’s a good guy,” Wes said with a pointed look. “All of us get cranky from time to time, and it’s a good thing we’re surrounded by coworkers who understand. Isn’t that right?”
David looked like he was about to argue. Carlie shot up from the couch and grabbed the thermal pot from the coffee table. “Anyone want more coffee?” She circulated around the living room as if she were at the diner, filling coffees, offering more cookies—diffusing tension.
The Twisted Road to You (Perfect, Indiana Book 4) Page 25
