Legacy (21 page)

“
You?
C, you have no idea.”

Wes smiled and kissed her again. But then he reeled himself in. This wasn’t okay. She wasn’t in any condition to make decisions about them or to even talk things out. And there was a lot to talk about. That would have to wait until tomorrow.

He tucked her against him and started the truck. When he looked down at her a moment later, she was out.

Wes drove them home in the rain, half-elated, half-terrified. Corinne had never given voice to her feelings—confused as they were—and he couldn’t predict what would come in the morning after she’d had a good night’s sleep. And in all fairness, he’d never told her how he felt, either. Here, he was lost. The words—those three words—had never left his lips, and even though he wanted Corinne to know that he loved her, he was scared shitless.

Once he pulled into the drive, Wes scooped Corinne up and carried her to the door. She flinched against the rainfall and buried her face into him, but she didn’t wake. Buck whimpered and jumped up on his hind legs when Wes came in still holding Corinne.

“Down, boy. She’s okay,” he said, kicking the door closed behind him. The dog followed them into her bedroom, but when Wes tried to lay her down on her bed, Corinne stirred.

“Have to pee and brush my teeth…” she said, reaching out to grab a hold of her bedside table, and missing it by a good six inches.

“Here,” Wes said, pulling her up slowly and keeping an arm around her as they walked to the bathroom. He made sure she was holding onto the counter before he stepped back.

“Get out,” she slurred, resting her hip against the counter and reaching for her fly. Wes huffed a laugh and took a step back toward the door, but when she listed toward the tub, he shot forward again.

“Let me help,” he said, gripping her waist. Corinne shook her head wildly, throwing the rest of her body off balance until he steadied her.

“Mm not peeing in front of you.”

“So kissing’s fine, but not peeing?” he asked, unable to keep a straight face.

Corinne smiled, her eyes closed, and she nodded.

“Fine. Just let me help with your jeans,” he promised, unbuttoning her fly and sliding down the zipper. He told himself not to think about what he was doing since she was beyond hammered, but he got hard again anyway.

“Grab hold of the counter,” he told her as he backed out of the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He went to the kitchen to get her a glass of water and two Advil, knowing that without it, she’d feel worse tomorrow.

When he heard the toilet flush and he thought he’d registered the sounds of the tap running, Wes gently pushed the door open to find Corinne standing at the sink in her blouse and panties, brushing her teeth.

The sight of her legs, lean and bare, made his breath catch, and the flesh that peeked out of her pink lace panties drove him nuts.

“You’re beautiful,” he said now because he could. He couldn’t yet tell her that he loved her, but this he couldn’t keep from saying. “So beautiful.”

“I’b brushing my teef,” she laughed through a mouthful of toothpaste, making Wes laugh, too.

“Yeah, and it’s pretty damn sexy,” Wes said, crossing to her. He wanted—how badly he wanted—to touch her, but he wouldn’t let himself. Instead, he stood next to her and brushed his own teeth. When she bent over to rinse her mouth out, he simply steadied her elbow, and she let him escort her back to bed.

He made her take the medicine and drink the water, but as soon as he got her tucked in, Corinne grabbed her head and screwed her eyes shut.

“The room is spinning,” she moaned.

“Bend your knee,” Wes said, reaching under the covers, taking her right ankle in his hand, and planting her foot flat on the mattress. “That’ll help.”

“Better,” Corinne nodded, laying her arm across her brow but opening her eyes to look up at him. “Would you stay with me, Wes?”

He hesitated for only a moment. Lying down with her again would be an exercise in torture, but wasn’t he a glutton for punishment? He knew without a doubt that he would control himself. He walked around the foot of her bed, peeled off his shirt, and kicked out of his shoes. The question was, just how much self-torture was he willing to bear? Take the easy way out and lie on top of the covers? Or slip under them and pull Corinne’s body against his?

Wes swallowed.

What if she never lets you get this close again?

The thought scared him. He hoped that wouldn’t happen, but he couldn’t be sure. Wes lifted up the blanket and slid in next to her. She immediately rolled into his embrace, making him smile. He bit back a moan as he welcomed her warmth and softness, her honeysuckle sweetness. Did anything feel as good as touching her?

But she pulled away and rolled on her back, frowning.

“More spinning...” she groaned.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, sliding his arm underneath her neck to prop her up, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “It’ll stop soon.”

She nodded, eyes closed.

“Thank you, Wes,” she murmured, reaching up blindly and stroking his face. He kissed her fingers as they passed his lips, unable to stop himself.

He held her and watched her close her eyes. The lamp still burned next to her, so he reached over and turned it off.

“Mmm...thank you, Wes...” she whispered again. “So good to me...You saved me...”

Her words clutched his heart.

Where would she be right now if he hadn’t chased after her tonight? Wes shuddered at the thought and pulled her tighter against him. And even if she hadn’t gotten herself completely wasted, he would have lost his mind if she hadn’t come home. Worry and jealousy would have eaten him alive.

Nothing in his life had prepared him for this.
Nothing
. He’d never had cause to worry about someone before. He’d lost Michael, the only person he cared about enough to fear losing, but he’d never worried about him a day in his life.

With Corinne, he worried about everything. If she was eating enough. If he’d locked the door before he left her sleeping in bed. If she would hurt herself again. If she would ever heal. If she would leave him.

He thought of Michael and how much he’d loved Corinne.

How did you do it, man?

At once, he was back in that god-awful hospital room, seeing the look in his best friend’s eyes when he asked Wes to take care of Corinne. Those eyes had been desperate. Michael had known what it meant to love Corinne and to want to protect her.

And since he couldn’t do it himself, he’d given her to Wes.

“Oh my God,” Wes whispered into the darkness, understanding for the first time what a gift he’d been given.

Corinne had said that Wes had saved her. But he hadn’t. Not really. That was Michael. By giving her to him, Michael had saved them both.

Chapter 25

C
orinne bobbed on a swirling, green sea. She stood at the stern of a sailboat, clutching the railing, and watched the waves reach for her. They made her seasick.

“What are you afraid of? You’ll feel better if you just jump in,” Michael said, beside her.

Her eyes flew open to the glare of day, and Corinne flung herself from the bed and sprinted for the bathroom.

“Corinne?” Wes called from the kitchen, and she had the sense to slam the bathroom door closed before yanking up the toilet seat and retching.

Five minutes later, she was hollowed out with her throat on fire, shaking from head to toe, but she felt 100 times better.

“Corinne,” Wes said, clearly standing just on the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

“H-hell no!” she stammered, pushing herself up from the bathroom floor, wishing that humiliation was fatal.

“I just want to help you,” he said, but she could hear the laughter in his voice. He was
laughing
at her. There was no rock bottom, Corinne realized, no end to the degradation she could suffer in front of him.

“Go. Away.”

“C, do you think I’m surprised that you’re sick after last night?” Wes asked, pointedly.

Last night.

What exactly had happened last night?

Corinne could remember Heather. And Pamplona. And City Bar. And shots. And dancing.

And Wes?

Corinne caught her wide-eyed reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered to herself.

Wes had come for her, but everything after that was a blur.

“Is this door even locked?” Wes asked, trying the handle. When it gave and he began to push the door open, Corinne shot forward and crashed into it, pushing him back.

“What the fuck, Corinne!” Wes yelled, but by then she had safely turned the lock. Something about keeping him out stirred a memory.

Wes unzipped my pants,
Corinne remembered with a shock.

“What happened last night?” she choked out, hearing the panic in her voice.

Silence.

“Wesley Clarkson,
what happened last night?”
she demanded.

Corinne swore that she heard him sigh.

“Open the door, and we’ll talk about it,” Wes said, sounding tired.

Oh God, what did I do?

“Never mind. I don’t want to know,” she said, half wishing it was true and half hoping he’d fall for her bluff.

“Corinne...just open the door, baby...”

Baby?

The word was like a touch. An unexpected caress. It testified to much more than she remembered. Her blood froze.

Corinne looked at herself again in the mirror. She’d clearly slept in her clothes...at least
some
of her clothes. Her jeans, she now saw, where wadded up on the floor of the bathroom on top of her shoes. But she still had on her panties, bra, and blouse. She hoped that had to be an encouraging sign. If she’d slept with Wes, surely she wouldn’t have woken up with her bra.

If I’d slept with Wes, I’d want to remember something.

And then she remembered him reaching over her to turn out the light.

She cursed again and sunk down onto the edge of the tub.

“Relax, Corinne,” Wes said through the door. “Nothing happened.”

Nothing?

Corinne made herself take a deep breath. Apparently, Wes had been in bed with her, but was that all? A year ago, she would have bet her life against it. But they had spent nearly two weeks just snuggling. It wasn’t so hard to believe now.

Corinne knew that Wes wouldn’t lie to her. And she also felt, deep down, that Wes wouldn’t have taken advantage of her. He wouldn’t hurt her.

She felt herself relax in that certainty. Wes would never hurt her. She had nothing to fear from him. But what about herself? She had gotten drunk last night with the intention of finding a one night stand. How much of a fool had she made of herself?

“Corinne…? We should talk,” Wes said, as if reading her mind.

Maybe she really didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, she needed to fortify herself first. She was a mess, and she needed to feel more put-together before facing him.

“Gimme a minute. I need a shower,” she said.

There was a pause before he responded.

“Okay, but it’s nearly 11, and we’re supposed to be at the Roush’s for noon.”

“Oh, shit.”

Corinne had completely forgotten their plans for Sunday dinner.

“C? You ok?” Wes asked. “Do you want me to call Mrs. Betsie and cancel?”

She still had the shakes, and the turmoil of the morning had overshadowed the fact that her head ached wickedly, but now that she was calming down, that pain made itself abundantly known. She didn’t feel great, but that was her own fault. Cancelling on Mrs. Betsie and Mr. Dan would only make her feel worse.

“No, no,” she said. “We’ll go. I’ll get it together.”

“Can I get you something?” Wes asked. “Coffee or something?

In spite of herself, Corinne smiled.

“Coffee would be great.”

“You got it,” Wes said, sounding relieved.

No, Wes wouldn’t hurt her. He might laugh at her. He might push her. But he’d never hurt her.

“Wes?” she called.

“Yeah…?”

“Thank you.”

She wasn’t just thanking him for the coffee, but she couldn’t expect him to know that.

“You’re welcome,” he said, softly.

Corinne heard him walk away, and she forced herself to stand. She brushed her teeth twice to annihilate the vile taste in her mouth before stepping into the scalding shower.

There was too much to think about. Wondering about the previous night only made her stomach clench in dread. Wes said that nothing had happened, but then why would he say that they needed to talk? Corinne hoped that it was just to fill in the blanks, but she doubted it was that simple.

She pushed those uncomfortable thoughts aside and considered Sunday dinner. The Roushes had made a point of inviting her for weeks after Michael died, and she’d gone the first two Sundays, afternoons that had really just felt like an extension of his funeral. But it had been so acutely painful to be there without him, even though she knew his family claimed her as one of their own. Seeing their suffering hadn’t helped her any, so she stopped going and retreated into herself.

Corinne waited for that feeling of devastation to settle on her, but today it didn’t come. There was grief, yes. She missed Michael. She would always miss Michael, but she felt ready to see his family again, and that readiness, that sense of strength was a relief.

Corinne turned off the shower, wrung out her hair, and dried herself. She wrapped her hair in a towel turban and put on her robe. She needed to get something in her stomach before it turned against her again.

When she stepped into the living room on her way to the kitchen, she met Wes coming out of it carrying a latte and a plate of buttered toast.

“Sit,” he said, nodding to the couch.

“Oh, bless you,” she sighed, knowing that if her stomach could handle nothing else, coffee and toast would be okay. She took her usual spot, but instead of sitting next to her like he so often did, Wes chose his recliner.

He waited for her to take a bite of toast and a sip of coffee before speaking.

“Are you ready to talk about last night?” he asked, an inscrutable look in his eyes. Corinne couldn’t tell if he was pissed or disappointed or just bored with her drama. She couldn’t say that she blamed him. Being her babysitter had to get old.

“I don’t know. I’m scared,” she said, honestly. “Maybe you could just answer some questions for me.”

Wes’s eyes softened.

“Fire away.”

She started with something she hoped was fairly safe.

“How did you know where I was?” she asked, frowning. “Did Heather call you to come get me?”

Wes shook his head, looking a little abashed.

“No...Facebook.”

Corinne rolled her eyes.
Of course.
But that didn’t explain
why
he’d come.

“So...were you just coming to party with us? Or were you checking up on me?”

Corinne thought she saw his eyes wince at the implication.

“Actually...I didn’t like the look of the crowd in the picture Heather posted,” Wes said, cryptically.

“What does that mean?”

Now it was Wes’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I thought I saw that creep Louis Elway in Heather’s picture, and I didn’t want him anywhere near you.”

The vehemence in his voice left her a little stunned. A fiercely protective look had come into his eyes as he spoke, and Corinne felt it in her stomach like a touch.

“When Chad and I got there,” he went on. “I didn’t see Elway, but you were dancing with some guy, and it was clear you’d had too much to drink.”

Now the look that he wore was one of strain, like he’d been worried for her. She took a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. She had remembered the guy. Sean? Seth? And she also remembered the way she’d allowed herself to move with him. It had felt exciting at the time, but knowing that Wes had seen it now made her feel surprisingly guilty. She wanted to steer the conversation away from that memory.

“So, you took me home?” When she tried to picture getting from the bar back to the house, nothing rose up in her mind.

Wes nodded. Was there something he wasn’t saying? Had she puked in his truck? Surely, he wouldn’t miss the chance to tease her about something like that. But Wes looked like he was far from teasing her. Instead, he watched her closely.

“Okay, so how did I lose my pants?” she asked, wanting to know the answer and not wanting to know at the same time.

One side of Wes’s mouth kicked up in a smile at that. It was the first time she’d seen him smile all morning, she realized, and she welcomed it.

“I just helped you get them undone,” Wes said, holding up his hands in innocence. “The rest was all you.”

A blush splashed onto her cheeks.

“I didn’t pee in front of you, did I?” she asked, horrified. This made Wes laugh.

“No, C, you were adamant that I leave the room, which took some doing since I was sure you’d wipe out on the bathroom floor.”

Corinne palmed her face in chagrin. At least she hadn’t dropped her pants in front of him. She peered through her fingers and checked the clock on the DVR. 11:27. She still needed to dry her hair and get dressed, so the rest of the Q&A would have to wait until later.

“I need to get ready,” she said, trying to overcome her mortification. “But I just want to know one more thing…”

“Yeah?” Wes asked, a hopeful look coming to his eyes.

“Why did you spend the night in my bed?” she asked, managing to speak only just above a whisper.

Wes’s brow rose, but she could see this wasn’t what he’d hoped she’d say. He almost looked...disappointed.

“Because you asked me to,” he answered, softly.

She’d asked him to?

Corinne blushed to the roots of her hair, but was this really a surprise? Of course, she’d asked him to. She’d gone out to get away from the temptation of him. Without the inhibitions that came with sobriety, she would have asked for what she wanted. To be close to him. To lie in his arms again.

It was wrong of her to ask, but he’d given in anyway. She didn’t know what to say to him.

“I’m sorry I was such a handful last night,” she said, sincerely. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Wes shook off her apology.

“All that matters is that you are safe,” he told her, but his eyes said something else. There was more.

“I’m guessing there’s more we need to talk about,” she said, biting her lip.

Wes shrugged.

“It can wait. We’ll talk when we get back home.”

Corinne knew that Wes seemed unusually quiet on the drive to the Roush’s, but it took only a few minutes to reach the tree-shaded midtown neighborhood, so Corinne didn’t try to make chitchat. She did, however, brace herself for the cascade of memories when Wes pulled in front of the two-story brick home with its garden wall of confederate jasmine.