Secret Indiscretions (Carson Cove Scandals 2)

He’s changed alright, but it isn’t for the better.

It wasn’t long until I was driving in circles—then I heard my phone buzz which snapped me out of the trance I was in—the time surprised me. I had been driving for several hours. I looked down to see Jon’s number. A sudden calmness settled over me—it came out of nowhere, and I wasn’t even sure why. I pulled over to the side of the road and picked up my phone.

Jon: I’m sorry to bother you again, but are you able to talk now?

Melanie: Can I come to you?

Jon: I’m at my house. It’s not far from where the engagement party was.

Melanie: I’m not far from there either…

Jon: Okay, I’ll send you my address.

Jon pinged my phone with an address, and I loaded it into my GPS. Jon couldn’t solve my problems, but I had too many loose ends fraying at the same time. I could tie one of them off—that felt like the right thing to do. If Jackson called his mother, and she filed for custody, then I was going to need my job at Alcott Inc. I would spend every penny I had—take out loans—max out credit cards—whatever it took to fight for my child. I would leave the damn country before I would let her be taken from me by someone that was hooked on pills—someone that could squeeze my arm hard enough to leave a bruise.

I really don’t like the man that replaced the boy I used to know. That’s for damn sure.

I drove into the richest part of Carson Cove for the second time. The mansions didn’t have the same luster they did the first time I was there. The world just looked dimmer in general—like someone had thrown a grayscale shade over the town I fell in love with. Carson Cove was supposed to be a place where I could start over, and I was so damn close to leaving my past where it belonged before it came back with ruthlessness and addiction on its breath. I didn’t know how I was going to overcome it, but I knew it started with smoothing things over with Jon. The kiss was a mistake, and I was sure we would both admit that when I walked through the door of Alcott Manor.

I can’t risk my job for something that could turn into nothing more than a fling, even if Jon is the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Chapter Ten

Jon

I watched from the window as Melanie pulled up in front of my

house. She didn’t look like the vision of radiant beauty I had seen before. There was a difference in her demeanor—like the confidence had been sucked out of her—she sure as hell didn’t look happy. I knew it was wrong to kiss her, but I didn’t expect it to crush her spirit. It seemed that I had to do a lot more than apologize—she was probably going to tell me that she didn’t want to work for me either. I couldn’t blame her. I acted like a fucking idiot. It was bad enough that she saw me drunk at Chateau Prime—so drunk that she felt like she needed to get coffee and food in me immediately.

“Hey…” I opened the door. “Please come in. Would you like something to drink?”

“I could really use a glass of water…” She looked up at me.

“Okay. Just a minute…” I turned and walked towards the kitchen. “You can sit down in the living room if you’d like.”

There was something off with Melanie. Her purse was just hanging loose on her shoulder—she was clutching her arm with her hand. She seemed withdrawn and timid. I poured a glass of water, walked to the living room, and when I handed her the water, she took it without moving her hand off her other arm. Through her fingers, I saw—redness and bruising. She was hurt. My protective nature just surged out of me in an instant. That was one part of myself that I couldn’t turn off, no matter what.

“What happened?” I motioned to her arm.

“It’s nothing.” She shook her head back and forth.

“Can I see?” I narrowed my eyes.

“I…” She trembled, but then she pulled her hand away—and I recognized the bruise pattern immediately.

“Who did this to you?” I sat down on the couch beside her. “Tell me!”

“I just—I bumped my arm.” She covered the bruise with her hand.

“No, you didn’t.” I shook my head back and forth. “Boyfriend?”

“I—I don’t have a boyfriend.” She tensed up.

“Someone put their hands on you.” I felt my jaw tighten. “That’s unacceptable—whoever they are.”

“No—it…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It was just a misunderstanding. I’m fine, I promise.”

“If I let you walk out of here, are you going to show up for your first day of work with more bruises?” I growled under my breath.