Sugar on Top (26 page)

That was the opposite of what she’d set out to do, but Glory could understand how he saw it that way. She’d been trying to help and instead she’d hurt him. “I’m not proud of my decision. I should have told you and I am so sorry now that I didn’t.”

“Was it all some kind of game?” he asked quietly.

“No. Of course not.” Her time with Cal had been more real than any relationship she’d ever had. “Payton wanted this so bad, I wanted to help her, and I thought that if you read her application, you’d see how much it meant to her.”

“What about how much I meant to you?” he said quietly, the rawness in his voice telling her that he was questioning everything, stripping apart every moment they shared. And that, more than anything, created an ache so deep in her chest she was afraid to speak for fear that she would lose it all. “You tell me that you want more, that you want to see where this leads, and the whole fucking time you were lying to me. About my kid.”

“I never lied. I just didn’t tell you about the pageant.” Even to her that reasoning sounded like a big pile of BS. “Everything else was real. You mean so much to me.” He meant everything to her. “And I do want more.”
Be brave, say it.
“I want it all. With you. I love you, Cal.”

He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the truck. Not the reaction she’d been hoping for. “I told you, Payton comes first always.”

“Never once have I asked for it to be any different,” she said, looking up into his eyes and terrified by what she saw looking back. “But don’t use her as an excuse to end this. She deserves more than that and so do we.”

“I’m not using her as an excuse,” he said. “And I deserve more than all of this.” He flapped his hand to encompass the party, the cops, the situation, and most important, her. Which burned.

“This is life, Cal. Sometimes it gets messy, but don’t give up because you’re afraid to get dirty.”

“I haven’t ever given up a day in my life.”

Glory let out a humorless laugh. Cal had given up on his own life the day his parents died, substituting his happiness and his needs for his family’s, stubbornly protecting himself from more loss. Glory knew because she’d done the same thing when she found herself sitting on the steps of town hall and knew her life would never be the same. But he wasn’t ready to face that truth yet.

“Good, because what we have is special and I think you know that. Just like I think that I’m not in this alone. You care about me, Cal. It might not be love yet, but you’re on your way and I made a mistake not telling you, something that won’t ever happen again. I love you,” she repeated shakily, taking a step forward, grateful when he didn’t jump in his truck and burn rubber out of there.

“You keep saying that.” She was pretty sure by his tone that he wished she’d stop. “But if this is what your love feels like, I don’t want it.”

“That’s not fair,” she said, struggling to hold it together. Her heart felt as though it was cracking and it hurt so badly that breathing became impossible and anything other than searing pain nonexistent. “I know you’re hurt and I know I messed up, we both have, but I know we can fix this. What we have is worth fixing.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want one more relationship to fix.”

“You mean you don’t want me,” she asked, putting her hand to her chest to make sure it was still intact, because she felt like it’d been run over by a tractor.

“I don’t know what I want anymore…” He trailed off, but it was clear that he didn’t want her. “I don’t think my family could survive any more of your love.”

Glory took a staggering step back, his words replaying over and over on a paralyzing loop. All she did was love completely and somehow her world always fell apart, shattered and scattering, leaving her alone to absorb the blame.

Suddenly it seemed like the ground was swallowing her whole while the sky was pressing her down, making her small and insignificant and so terrifyingly alone that she stopped breathing. Couldn’t. Everyone she’d ever loved had left her, thrown her heart back in her face as though it wasn’t enough. As though it were toxic.

And for one small, incredibly stupid moment tonight, Glory had convinced herself that, for Cal, she was enough. Her love was enough. That to him, she was special. Someone to be treasured. Someone to fight for.

But she wasn’t. That much was clear. And she was tired of not being enough; tired of always being alone; tired of being the only one willing to fight.

Just so damn tired.

T
he good people of Sugar waited until after Pastor Linden’s Sunday sermon, which ironically dealt with the teachings of Sodom and Gomorrah, to spread the news about what was being called the Miss Im-Peach-ment Kerfuffle. Payton had been stripped of her title, the rest of the Miss Peach court was under review from the council, and Glory received a request from the hospital’s board to appear before them first thing Monday morning.

If that wasn’t enough to signal the second coming of Glory Gloria Mann, then the photo of her on Facebook holding an empty bottle of Jack—
thank you, Brand Riggs
—solidified her biggest fears.

It was over.

Not just her shot at the community outreach manager position, but with Cal. He hadn’t called her once, and when he’d shown up to bail out Payton—at least he’d gotten it together where his daughter was concerned—he’d walked right past Glory as though she wasn’t even there.

“This isn’t as bad as you think,” Charlotte said, handing Glory a cup of tea and curling up on the other end of the sofa.

After the board called, Glory gave herself exactly one hour to cry, then headed straight over to her friends, determined to somehow fix this.

“Then the board isn’t calling me in to say they are rejecting my proposal?”

“Okay, it’s what you think.” Charlotte reached behind her for a snifter of brandy and poured a generous finger in Glory’s tea. “But no matter what happens, you’ll have a job at the hospital. I may not have as much influence with the board as I’d like, but I am still in charge of hiring for my department.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Glory said, wiping her eyes.

“And lose the best nursing graduate to another hospital? No way.” Charlotte nudged Glory’s leg with her bare foot. “And I was talking about Cal.”

Glory felt her chest expand and contract so fast she groaned. “Can we not say that name for a while? It gives me heartburn.”

“Been there. And trust me, close proximity to the man only makes it worse,” Charlotte said and Glory believed her. Standing next to Cal last night and having him look right through her had hurt worse than his words. “So you have two choices, fix it or move.”

Glory wanted to laugh, because Charlotte said it as though fixing the paralyzing loneliness in her chest was as simple as deciding not to give up. But Glory was afraid one chuckle would lead to another endless night of tears. “Is there an option C?”

“Afraid not.”

Well, damn. Heartbroken or not, Glory wasn’t leaving Sugar without Jelly Lou, and her grandma would never willingly leave.

Fixing things with Cal? Glory snorted, not going to happen. He’d made his decision more than clear.

“I kept a secret from him about Payton, he found out, and I wisely chose that moment to tell him I love him.”

Charlotte grimaced. “Oh, honey, telling a McGraw you love them before they’re ready to admit it is the quickest way to send them hightailing it out of your life.”
She tells me this now.
“They’re stubborn and fierce about love, whether it is giving it or losing it. Especially Cal. That man has spent most his life making sure everyone else is taken care of, I don’t think he knows that he’s allowed to be taken care of, too.”

“I kind of figured that out.” About the time she watched Cal’s taillights disappearing into the night.

“A rookie mistake.” Charlotte shrugged. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“And how did you fix it?” Glory asked, wondering how Charlotte kept her relationship with Jace a secret. Sugar wasn’t known for its discretion, and when the town’s belle gets involved with the hell-raiser, lips are bound to flap.

“I moved home,” she admitted and studied the pattern on her teacup. “And years later I still wonder if I made the right decision.”

“Does it get easier?” Glory asked, praying to God that Charlotte said yes because she couldn’t imagine living with this crushing pain every day. “With time?”

“No,” Charlotte said quietly, and Glory could hear the sorrow still fresh in her friend’s voice. “But for women like us, life goes on. So you need to decide if you go on alone or if you go on with the man you love.”

“What if he doesn’t love me back?” she whispered, afraid if she said it too loud, it would be like admitting it was true.

“Oh, he loves you all right.” Glory wasn’t so sure about that. “Don’t give me that look, he does, he just can’t help it if he’s slow on the uptake. He’s a man.” She paused and smiled. “A McGraw man at that.”

A McGraw man who looked at her like she’d ruined his life by telling him she loved him.

“Can we not say
McGraw
either?” She took a sip and let it burn her throat. “Let’s also add the word
man
to the list.”

“You’re an asshole,” Jackson said, leaning back in his chair, taking way too much joy in Cal’s current situation. It had been two days since the pageant and Payton still wasn’t talking to him. She hadn’t called her mom to come and take her away either—so there was still hope. “Even your fancy shirt and clean boots can’t hide the truth.”

Cal looked down at his button-up and dress boots and shrugged. “I have to meet with the inspector about some issue with the foundation. As for the asshole part, I’m agreeing to community service, aren’t I?”

It had taken Cal a whole ten minutes to realize he’d overreacted and driven to the station to pick up Payton. Even less time to figure out he’d blown it with Glory. He’d known that the second he saw the anguish on her face.

“I was talking about Glory,” Jackson said.

Yeah, he knew that, too. He’d been trying to forget it, with no such luck. He’d hurt her. Badly. She’d finally allowed herself to let someone in, and he’d abandoned her at the first sign of trouble.

“You going to call her? Tell her you’re an asshole?” Jackson asked.

“Since when are you for Glory Mann?”

“Since she went out of her way to make my grandma happy,” Jackson said bluntly. “And if you’d let her, I think she could make you pretty damn happy, too.”

“If I
let
her,” Cal asked in a tone that would have a smart man running. “What does that mean?”

Jackson was not a smart man. In fact, he was as stupid as they came, because he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his deck and bringing his face within smack-down reach. “That for the first time since Tawny, you had a shot at something good and you would rather piss that away than admit that you might actually need someone.”

“With friends like you, what more do I need?” Cal said dryly.

“No wonder you chased off the only good woman you’ve had in years. And for the record, you’re not my type.” Jackson smiled. Cal didn’t. Because he hadn’t chased off Glory. He’d walked out on her. And Cal knew exactly how that felt.

Fuck.

Cal leaned back and rubbed his hand over his chest, trying to ease the raw ache that had been gnawing at him. It didn’t help. Nothing he seemed to do helped. It just got worse, deeper, hollower. “Between Tawny, Hattie, and now Payton, I’ve reached my quota of scheming woman.”

“Are you hearing yourself? No? Then let me be the first to tell you that you officially sound like a pussy.” Jackson shook his head. “Payton and her friends are less annoying.”

“She lied. About Payton. End of story.” How many times did he need to repeat himself before people got it? Someone who claims they love you doesn’t lie. Ever. Especially about something as important as family.

“What exactly did she lie about? Because from what you’ve told me, she took an application, which was her job as the co-commissioner, made your kid fess up to applying, which should have been your job as her dad, and fell in love with you even though you’re an asshole.”

“I didn’t tell you she loved me,” Cal said.

“Didn’t have to. Only love could make you this crazy,” Jackson said quietly and Cal realized he was talking about him being in love. Which was ridiculous. Sure he
liked
Glory. A lot. But love?

“With Payton thinking of moving and Tawny trying to win her over with trinkets, I don’t have time to focus on a relationship.”

Or love.

Cal didn’t know where that came from. The last thought or the little flutter he felt thinking it. He told himself the other night he was done. That it was better this way, to walk away before they became too invested—even though he knew he was already gone.

“Plus I screwed up massively with Glory.”

He knew what to say to hurt her, like she’d hurt him. And he’d used it. And he hated himself for that.

“All right. Then fix it. Isn’t that what you do?” Jackson said without a trace of humor. He was dead serious. “You get all up in people’s lives like a meddling old lady and make things work. Why is this different?”

“Because it is.” Cal stood, shoving the chair back. So done with this conversation. Done with everything.

Jackson stood, too, came around the desk, and blocked his path. “Why, though? Brett and I have given you a million reasons to walk away, but you keep coming back like some disease. ”

“Because. Just because.” Because she’d kept things from him. Because she made him believe she was different. Because he could handle Jackson or Brett leaving, but if Glory walked out, he wasn’t sure he’d make it. Because he wasn’t only her corner; she had somehow become his.

“Fuck.” He sat down, or maybe it was his legs gave out. He wasn’t sure, but suddenly the weight of what he’d had and then lost was too staggering to remain upright.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jackson clapped him on the back. “Now you might want to figure this out before she walks into that meeting with the hospital’s board. According to Spencer, she is going to be passed over for that position because she is taking the fall for your kid.”

A burst of fierce protectiveness rushed through his body and pounded against his rib cage over the thought of Glory taking on that board alone. At the same time a soft warmth, unlike anything he’d ever known, filled that empty place in his chest when he thought of how amazing and incredibly loyal she was to take the fall for Payton.

Not that he’d let that happen. “Since when do you and Spencer
talk
?”

“Since I stopped her for doing twenty-seven in a twenty-five.” Jackson shrugged. “What can I say? I’m not ready to stop being an asshole.”

Ten minutes later, Cal was sprinting down the hall of Sugar Medical Center when he saw an
IN SESSION
sign on the conference room door. He also saw Payton sitting quietly on a bench wearing a pretty sundress and a ponytail—no makeup.

“Daddy,” Payton said, surprised, standing and smoothing down her skirt. “What are you doing here?”

Cal motioned for her to take a seat and eased down next to her. “I was about to ask you the same thing. You should be in school.”

“I cut class to come to see Glory and say I’m sorry, but she was already inside when I got here.” She slid him a sidelong glance, waiting for his reaction. When he had none, other than genuine pride that his baby was doing the right thing, standing up for a woman who deserved their loyalty, she narrowed her gaze. “Why are you here? Dragging me back to school?”

“No.” He rested back against the bench. “I cut a meeting for work to come here and see Glory and say I’m sorry.”

Payton laughed and Cal felt his chest tighten. It was the sweetest sound he’d heard all weekend—hell, all summer. Then her eyes filled and she covered her face.

“Come here.” He pulled her to his side and she rested her head against his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I didn’t know everything would happen like that, and I didn’t mean to get Glory in trouble. I just wanted Brand to like me.”

“I know, baby.” His kissed her head. “I’ve done a few stupid things to impress a woman.” Like agree to build a new clubhouse for practically nothing. “And I’m sorry for letting you think you were going to get arrested and for losing your title. I know how hard you worked for Miss Peach.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care about that anymore. I mean it was totally embarrassing in first period, with everyone talking and staring, but all I could think about was how mad you’d been.”

“I wasn’t mad.” She looked up, calling him on that lie. “I wasn’t. Much. I was more scared than anything. Scared of you growing up, of losing this.” He tightened his arms. “Scared of losing you, Payton.”

“I’m not moving to Mom’s,” she said, looking him in the eye, and
Christ
, if he didn’t cry a little.

“Are you sure?” he asked because she needed to know that his love didn’t come with strings or ultimatums. “Because I’d miss you like hell, but we’d make it work if that’s what you wanted.”

“I want to visit her more, but I want to be here in Sugar. With you.” Well, hell, if that didn’t make his year. “And this spring I want to try out for the all-county softball team. They travel, and I want to go to overnight games alone with my team.”

“Payton,” he said thinly.

She held up a hand. “I already checked with Coach and it won’t conflict with cheerleading. None of the other kids bring their parents unless they’re a coach, and I don’t want you to be my coach again. If I’m starting lineup, then I want to know it’s because I’m good, not because you’re my coach.”

Had that been why she quit? “We’ll talk about it.”

She smiled. “Oh, I know how I want to spend my community service.” She pulled out an application, homemade and written on binder paper, and handed it to him. He looked at where she was applying and felt something swell in his chest. Pride and a good dose of humble pie.

“I can support this,” he said then frowned. “Wait, how did you get here?” Because he’d dropped her off at school over an hour ago.

“Mason drove me.” She waved to the end of the hallway, where Mason was coming around the corner with two sodas from the vending machine. He saw Cal, stopped dead in his tracks, and looked for the nearest exit.

That’s right buddy, you’re caught.

Although, instead of running the other way, which most boys would have done, Mason threw his scrawny shoulders back and walked over with all the confidence of a knight on a horse—Cal knew the walk well, had used it a few times himself.