The House on Sunshine Corner

by Phoebe Mills

  “Jesus,” he said under his breath, contemplating lifting his shirt up to cover his nose.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside, and when they did, he felt like the air had been punched out of him. He hadn’t been back here since he’d left for college. His childhood home looked so different, and yet entirely the same. The curtains that hung, blocking out every ounce of natural light, were the ones his mom had painstakingly sewn the last time she’d redecorated the living room shortly before she’d gotten sick. Their deep purple was darker than her usual tastes, but of course, when she’d been alive, they’d hung open all the time, bathing the room in sunlight. The once-pristine beige carpet was now mottled with stains visible even in the near-dark, and the floral couches were faded and threadbare, remnants of unknown substances dotting their surfaces.

  And there in the corner, in the chair where his mom had slept the last few months of her life, unable to get a good night’s sleep in her regular bed, was his father. His eyes were half-hooded, and he glared murderously at Carter.

  “What the hell do you want, boy?”

  It’d been more than ten years since he’d seen his father in the flesh, and deep down Carter had silently hoped that somehow his own appearance would have changed drastically enough in the time that he’d been gone that he’d be no longer recognizable to the man who’d given him half his DNA. But as he stared at his father, there was no denying the family resemblance, even if Robert Hayes had done nothing to keep up his appearances. His hair was too long, the dark, greasy strands hanging limply, his face unshaven in a haphazard way. His cheeks were gaunt, but his stomach protruded from his frame. Good to know he still subsisted on a diet almost entirely of alcohol.

  “I’m here to make sure you’re not dead.”

  “Why the hell would you care?”

  Carter barked out a laugh at his dad’s petulant tone. Did he want Carter to care about it? He had a funny way of showing it, if so. “I don’t, but Becca does. And since she needs at least one of the men in her family to not be a complete asshole, I’m here checking up on you because she asked me to.”

  “And you managed to show up? I’m surprised you didn’t just bail from town again instead.”

  Carter’s anger simmered just below the surface, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He’d fought the voice in his head his entire adult life. The one that constantly told him he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t talented enough to make something of himself. He’d like to think he’d overcome that since he’d been gone, but it had been an uphill battle, his demons something he still had to contend with more often than he’d like. But he had no intention of standing here and letting his father’s bitter comments get under his skin.

  “Yeah, well, I almost missed the house, what with all the trash you’ve let pile up outside. I’m sure Mom would be thrilled to know that you turned her garden into a junkyard.”

  Rage swept over Robert’s features, his face turning a mottled red. “You don’t come into my house and talk about my dead wife, boy! You left, remember? You went off to your fancy school to get your fancy degree and go on to your fancy career, but it doesn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things. You’re a Hayes, and you got more of me in your blood than you ever did your mother. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Carter couldn’t deny the truth of that. Couldn’t deny the shimmer of unease over turning into his old man that always sat just under the surface. Had, in fact, been why he’d left and hadn’t returned. “That may be so, but Mom would only be disappointed in one of us, and I’d venture to guess it’s the one who’s drunk before noon.”

  “What the hell do you know about it? You abandoned us after your mom died! You don’t have a right to come in here and speak to me like that. Who do you think you are? Might be a fancy architect with a big office and a nice title, but deep down, you’re nothing more than a man who walked away from his family. Couldn’t handle the responsibility. Couldn’t handle when times got tough, and you bailed.” His dad took a heavy pull from his beer can, then swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “So I might spend my days buried in a bottle, but at least I stuck around.”

  The words landed like a grenade in Carter’s chest, the shrapnel striking every inch of his body until he was nothing but an open wound. The words weren’t a surprise. They weren’t untrue, either, which was why there was no reason for his chest to feel like it had caved in on itself. While his dad’s delivery was callous and harsh, meant only to wound him, there was no denying the truth in his words. Carter had left. He’d abandoned his family when they’d needed him the most. And it didn’t matter that he’d made a promise to his mom before she’d died. It didn’t matter that Becca had sworn she’d be fine on her own. Had gone behind his back and accepted his offer of enrollment at UNLV.

  All that mattered was, in the end, he’d left. His dad might have been worthless—the kind of man who couldn’t even look after himself, let alone his kids—but there was one thing he had going for him that Carter didn’t.

  He’d never run away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Abby couldn’t stop smiling—hadn’t been able to for days. Her goal of opening her preschool was in reach, and she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She had friends who loved her and whom she loved. And though she knew she shouldn’t weigh Carter in that, she couldn’t help but do so. There was no question that his being in Heart’s Hope Bay was a contributing factor to her increased happiness.

  Even so, she knew it couldn’t last—that it wouldn’t last. She had no grand ideas that Carter would suddenly change his mind—the mind that he’d had set since…well, probably since before they’d even started dating the first time.

  Now that she knew exactly what he’d run from, she couldn’t blame him. And she also wasn’t naive enough to think that what they had now—no matter how great it was—would be enough to make him stay.

  She’d just finished cleaning up in the kitchen from dinner when there was a knock at the door. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she strode toward the front, eager to see Carter again, even though she’d just seen him that morning at drop-off. They’d been spending nearly every night together, and though she knew it was going to hurt in the long run, she couldn’t make herself stop.

  Grinning, she swung open the front door and greeted him. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Carter’s single-syllable greeting was cold and hard, no warmth to be found. A smile didn’t touch his lips like it normally did when he saw her.

  Her brows pinched in worry. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” A sledgehammer hung at his side, and he lifted it over his shoulder as he stepped inside the entryway. “I’m gonna tear down those walls today.”

  “Oh,” Abby said, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “Okay.”

  Without another word, he strode into the house and up the steps, Abby following behind with what might as well have been a giant floating question mark over her head. What the hell had happened to make him so…angry?

  By the time she’d made it upstairs, he was already in one of the rooms they’d designated to expand for the three-year-old classroom, the large X on the shared wall between the two rooms proclaiming its destiny. Without pause, Carter lifted the sledgehammer and swung. The sound of it hitting the wall jolted Abby, the vibration rattling her teeth. It was a good thing it was bingo night and her grandma was out with her girlfriends; otherwise she’d wonder what the hell all the noise was.

  Not knowing what to do or how to help—both in terms of Carter and the project—she busied herself with paint colors and flooring samples on her phone. After a bit, Carter rested the sledgehammer at his feet and reached back to grip the neck of his shirt, yanking it off in one smooth motion. Before Abby could even tease him or comment on the view, he went right back to work, his aggression and frustration showing in the taut lines of his muscles, the rigid cut of his arms and sho
ulders.

  She wanted to go up to him, press her hand against his glistening back and ask him what was wrong, because this was definitely not normal behavior. But she could tell by his stance, the determined set of his jaw, and the focused squint of his eyes that he wasn’t ready to talk, so she let him be, her heart breaking a little bit more at every swing of the sledgehammer and every grunt that fell from his lips.

  It could have been minutes or hours later when he finally let the sledgehammer fall to the floor, his breath coming in quick pants as he lifted his discarded shirt and wiped at his face.

  “Carter…” Her voice was quiet, the plea low, but he heard it all the same.

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and, for once, he allowed her to see what he worked so hard to hide. With his shields forgotten, his eyes vulnerable, she couldn’t ignore the pull to him anymore.

  She walked to him, stopping only once she stood in front of him. The heat poured from his body and enveloped her as she reached up to brush strands of hair away from his face. She trailed her fingers along his jaw as she tried to read in his eyes everything he wasn’t saying. But at the touch of her fingers on his skin, his lids fluttered closed, shuttering the only avenue she had to read him.

  “What’s going on?” she finally asked, figuring there was no use in guessing. The possibilities of his frustration were so vast that she had no hope of winning the guessing game. Was it work? Was it his sister? Was it something she hadn’t even thought of?

  Carter shuddered out a sigh and shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  Abby snapped her mouth shut, her jaw clenching in frustration. “Yes, something I need to worry about. If it makes you feel like this, I want to know what’s causing it. I thought we were…friends,” she said, stumbling over the words even though they were true. Even though she knew better than to hope for something more. Apparently her heart hadn’t gotten that memo yet.

  “We are,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  She tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged him toward her, the move causing his eyes to snap open. “Then tell me.”

  He studied her for long moments, and she didn’t pull away, hoping whatever he read on her face was enough to reassure him that he could trust her with his secrets. Because now, after witnessing his reaction, there was no doubt this was something he wouldn’t normally share.

  He swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet space around them. “I saw my dad today.”

  Shock reverberated up Abby’s spine, and her mouth fell open. That, she hadn’t been expecting. “Is everything okay?” she asked tentatively, even though she knew it obviously wasn’t.

  Carter breathed out a humorless laugh and pressed his thumb and forefinger to his closed eyes. “Well, he’s not dead if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Abby’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Carter, trying to read the intention behind his words. “Was that a possibility?”

  He let his hand drop from his face. “That’s why I went there in the first place. Becca hadn’t been able to get ahold of him in a while, and she was worried. Since she still can’t get around on uneven terrain, she asked me to go and check on him in her place.”

  Abby held her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, to hear what Carter had found when he’d visited his dad. While her eternal optimism hoped that they’d reconciled, his demeanor tonight proved otherwise, and she knew better than to hope. “Were you there for long?”

  “Just long enough for him to let me know what a worthless waste of space he thinks I am.”

  “Carter…” she murmured, her hand pressed against the heated skin of his stomach.

  Though want and need still thrummed between them, an undeniable force that always simmered just beneath the surface, her focus remained squarely on him and the emotions he seemed to be fighting to keep contained.

  “Did he say that to you?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  Abby’s chest ached for him. “Is that what it’s always been like between you two?”

  Carter opened his mouth as if to speak, but then paused and studied her for a quiet moment. She hoped he wasn’t reconsidering opening up to her. Because while this was undoubtedly painful for him, she couldn’t deny the comfort that shot through her, warmth pouring over her like a soft summer rain, that he was willingly sharing this part of himself with her for the first time…ever.

  He must have seen something in her expression because he lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “He was always kind of a jerk, even before Mom died. We just…clashed. Whatever I did wasn’t good enough for him. I wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough. I was never enough for him. But I dealt with it, you know? I figured it was just one of those unlucky breaks—the kind of kid who didn’t get along with his parents…or parent anyway. But then after my mom died, things got worse. He went from being just a jerk to being unnecessarily cruel. I think it built him up to tear me down. And considering he blamed himself for my mom’s death, he had a lot of building up to do.”

  Abby’s eyes filled with tears when she heard the anguish in his voice and couldn’t imagine what it’d been like for him as a teenager, to lose one parent and then have the other cut you down. To tell you, in no uncertain terms, that their life would be better if you weren’t in it.

  She swallowed down the hard lump in her throat, realizing she did know what that was like after all.

  Her mother hadn’t made it a secret that she’d never wanted Abby. It turned out she and Carter’s foundations weren’t all that different, but the way they dealt with them were. Where he ran, flying as fast and as far from this place as possible, she’d grown roots, cultivating relationships and searching for the one thing neither of them had had.

  Carter cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that rolled unchecked down her cheeks. “Don’t cry. I’m okay. I’m okay,” he said, firmer the second time.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head, gripping his forearms as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then each of her eyes, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, before sucking her bottom lip between his. She should tell him that it wasn’t just him who felt this. That he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only one who’d been dealt a shitty hand in the family department and that he had the ability to make different choices for himself. But that was what he’d done, wasn’t it? He’d made different choices. Different than his father had made, definitely, but also the exact opposite of her own.

  But she didn’t want to think about that now. Not when his hands were so soft against her face, his tongue so sweet against hers.

  “I’m all sweaty,” he murmured against her lips, and even that small space between them was too much.

  “Don’t care.” She tugged his face back to hers and captured his mouth again, inhaled his groan—reveled in it—as he reached down to grip her bottom and hauled her up against him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and didn’t question if he could see well enough to get them across the second floor and up the staircase to her room. She didn’t care because he seemed to be as desperate to get lost in her as she was with him.

  That desperation didn’t stop when he set her down—in her en suite bathroom, she realized—and impatiently stripped her until she stood bare before him. He let loose a low hum of male appreciation as he worked just as quickly to remove his own clothes. Then he was reaching for something in his pocket before stalking to her, his hand cupping her bare bottom as he nipped her lower lip, tugging it between his teeth.

  Without turning his face from hers, he reached toward the shower, his movements clumsy in a way she wasn’t used to seeing from him, and turned the water on. As it heated up, so did their kisses, the full force of their chemistry reducing her to nothing but want and desperation. She clung to him, running her fingers along his sinewy muscles, the tips of her breasts brushing against the soft, downy hairs on his chest in a way that made
her throb with need.

  On a panting breath, Carter pulled back only far enough to meet her eyes, his dark and hungry. “Are you with me?” he asked, his voice sandpaper rough.

  Without hesitation, she answered, “Yes.”

  Did he mean here, now, physically? Yes, a thousand times. The evidence of just how much she was with him was plain enough as he dipped his fingers between her thighs, his answering groan telling her just exactly how obvious it was.

  And anything else he could possibly mean with that question, her answer was a resounding yes as well. She’d tried to fool herself into believing whatever this was between them was casual. That she’d be satisfied with anything he could give her. That since she’d walked in with her eyes wide open, the inevitable fallout wouldn’t hurt as much this time around.

  The trouble was, though, that this wasn’t casual at all. And, as he carried them into the shower, braced her against the tile wall, and slid inside her, their eyes locked and their panting breaths in sync, it was more obvious than ever before just how deeply in they both were.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two weeks later, Abby hummed to herself as she put the finishing touches on her signature charcuterie board. Tonight, instead of spending the evening with Carter, she was having Gia and Savannah over for a much-needed girls’ night. It had been far too long since the three of them had gotten together outside of work—weeks, actually. Not since they’d shopped for Gia’s baby registry. And the guilt over not seeing her friends other than at the Sunshine Corner—especially Gia when she was having a rough acclimation to her pregnancy—was eating at her. Something she’d rectify tonight.

  They’d already made arrangements that Savannah would take care of dessert, and Gia had promised her homemade guacamole and salsa. That meant Abby was on sustenance detail. She filled her board with meats and cheeses, nuts and dried fruit, plus a couple spreads and honeys to go with the crackers and crostini.