Buried in Secrets Page 45
“Marco?” he pressed. My face flushed and he beamed. “Wise choice, girlie. Wise choice.”
“I know,” I said with a smile. It felt good, knowing I’d be seeing Marco later. Knowing I no longer had to hide from him or myself.
I walked out into the yard and found Wyatt up on the roof, removing shingles. “What are you doing?”
“I’m fixing this the right way, then hunting down Corey Summers and makin’ him reimburse Hank.”
I pinched my mouth shut, because if Corey had done a crappy job, Wyatt was doing us a favor.
He shifted his weight as he lined up an asphalt shingle. “I need to get a few supplies.”
“Okay,” I said. “Can you make sure it won’t leak if it rains tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll do a quick patch job and fix it tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
I headed inside, because being outside felt like I was leading Wyatt on. I’d hoped he’d be gone by the time I finished, but I was grateful he was helping Hank. That was what I wanted, right? For Wyatt to be there for Hank when I couldn’t be. The ultimate goal was to be free of my father, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think that would come quickly. I had to assume I’d spend more time running.
The library didn’t open until ten, so I decided to do some of the neglected housework. Since we hadn’t cleaned up the breakfast mess, I put on an apron to keep my dress clean and filled the sink with soapy water. I’d finished washing and drying all the dishes and had started cooking a pot of black beans and rice for Hank’s dinner when Wyatt walked into the kitchen, his hands covered in dirt. “I got it patched up, so it will be good to go for now.”
“Thanks.”
He started to head toward the bathroom before abruptly turning back. “You look really pretty. The dress makes your eyes bluer.”
Oh crap. I was giving him the wrong impression, and I needed to nip this in the bud. “I didn’t wear this for you, Wyatt,” I said as kindly as I could.
Something flickered in his eyes. “I never presumed you did. I’m just makin’ an observation.”
“Well, thank you.”
He disappeared down the hall and I got out a bag of carrots to roast while the beans and rice were cooking.
He came back a few minutes later, staying in the opening of the kitchen. “I didn’t mean for you to have to clean up on your own. I intended to help.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I chopped up carrots at the counter. “I didn’t mind one bit. I’m just grateful you’re spending time with Hank again.” I took a breath. “I never intended to get between you two.”
“I know. That’s not who you are.” He gestured toward the stove. “Can I help?”
I started to tell him no, but I wanted to ask him a few things. Maybe I could work it into a conversation. “You can get out a cookie sheet and cover it with foil.”
“I think I can handle that,” he said as he opened the cabinet over the oven. “Hank said you were at Marco’s.”
Crap. “Yeah.”
“Does he make you happy?” he asked quietly.
I looked up at him. “Yeah, Wyatt. He does, but more importantly, he’s honest. We have no secrets.”
He glanced down, then darted his gaze back up to meet my eyes, still holding the box of aluminum foil. “Marco’s a good man, and you deserve to be happy.”
His response caught me by surprise. “Thank you.”
He nodded, but then he said, “But Marco’s never going to leave Drum.”
I stopped chopping. “What does that mean?”
“We both know you’re not goin’ to stay here forever, and if Marco’s promised to leave with you, you can’t count on that.”
“Why not?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He set the box on the table next to the cookie sheet. “Because he and Max are tied at the hip. Hell, he went to college in Knoxville because Max went there, and before our mother fetched Max to run the tavern, the two of them were planning to open a bar in Nashville together. Sure enough, Marco came runnin’ back to Drum to be close to Max, goin’ so far as to get a job with the sheriff’s department to help protect him.” He gave me a sad look. “He’s never gonna leave Max, Carly, so don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.”
I stared at him in shock. “You think I don’t know about his friendship with Max? The good and the bad? I suspect I know a whole hell of a lot more than you, because he tells me things, Wyatt.” I left off the unlike you.
He grimaced. “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Bullshit. He was hoping to drive a wedge between Marco and me while trying to paint himself as the good guy.
“God, you just don’t learn, do you?” I asked, shaking my head. “Why are you really here right now? I thought you had to be at the garage.”
“Junior’s coverin’, and I’m here because you asked me to come.”
“Great way to twist things around,” I said. “This was your condition for helping Hank with his car. I had to spend an hour with you.” I waved my knife toward him. “I guess you’re in here collecting your full hour, huh?”
“I came in here to help you with the dishes,” he said.
“But for all Hank knows, we’re in here having a nice chat, so I think we’ve both fulfilled our ends of the bargain, which means you’re free to go.”
He pushed out a heavy sigh and pulled off a sheet of foil. “Carly, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.”
“No,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m sure you had delusions about sweeping me off my feet and us getting back together, but that’s never going to happen.”
“Carly—”
This conversation was shot to hell, so I figured I might as well go for broke. “What were you doing at the tavern the other night?”
He froze. “What?”
“Two nights ago. You came in, you and Max went into the back for about ten minutes, and then you left. What was that about?”
“Carly.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” I said in disgust. “You’re so full of secrets you’re buried in them.”
“I was there to shoot the shit with my brother,” he nearly shouted. “Do I need a reason to talk to my own brother?”
“You were talking to him, but it wasn’t to shoot the shit.”
His nostrils flared. “Then what was I doin’ there?”
I nearly told him what I suspected, but I needed to keep my investigation under wraps for as long as I could, which meant I couldn’t clue him in. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“It’s time for you to go, Wyatt,” Hank said from the kitchen doorway.
Wyatt’s face paled. “Hank, I realize we—”
“No,” Hank said in a cold tone. “I told you to leave this girl alone unless you were ready to come clean, and here you are, pesterin’ the shit out of her. You just can’t stop beatin’ a dead horse, can ya?” he sneered. “Just like the rest of you Drummonds. Now go.”