She didn’t mind the girly stuff, but she was just as content with a cold brew in hand than a fancy drink with an umbrella.
“Can I try to paddle?” Olivia asked from behind her.
“Sure thing, cutie.”
The canoe started to rock. “Sit down or we’ll tip.” Owen’s words were harsh, and the canoe settled.
Charlie peeked over her shoulder and winked at Olivia. “Standing up in a canoe is a sure-fire way to find yourself in the pond. It’s still a bit cold for swimming. Maybe next time when it’s warmer you can jump in from the canoe.”
Owen continued to paddle. “Let’s pull up to the shore so she can get out safely.”
Once the front of the canoe slid to a stop in the sand, Charlie spun around and held out her hand. “It’ll still be a bit tipsy so don’t stand up too fast or you might fall.”
“I can do it.” Olivia stood and held out her arms for balance, as did Charlie.
They swapped seats and Charlie gave her the paddle. “Remember, when you paddle on the right it’ll make the canoe go left. When you paddle on the left it will—”
“Make us go right. I know.”
“Livy,” Owen warned from the back of the canoe.
Oh, the fun he’d have when she reached her teen years. With a mischievous grin on her face, Charlie took the seat in the middle and cast Owen a wink.
He pushed off the bottom with his oar and turned the canoe around. The first few minutes while Olivia got herself used to the oar was a bit rough. They turned around in circles until she finally took the paddle out of the water.
“I can’t do it.”
Charlie started to encourage her, but Owen beat her to it.
“Sure, you can, peanut. It takes practice is all. You don’t have to paddle so hard when you’re in the front, remember? You’re our steerer.”
“But I can’t steer.”
“We don’t use that word, remember?”
“Fine. I’m bad at steering.”
Charlie chuckled. “Let your big old brother get us out into the open and then you can practice some more. Sit back and enjoy the view. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“In the winter you can come out an ice skate.”
“I don’t know how.” Her cute little mouth turned down in a pout.
Charlie peered over her shoulder at Owen, who quickly looked away. Foot. Mouth. She had a tendency to say the wrong thing around these two. From what she could decipher from their short time together, Olivia spent a lot of time in the kitchen, be it the Black Fly Diner or her own house, and really enjoyed cooking.
Her mother was a part of her life though by the sound of things, yet she was closer with her big brother. Which was adorable.
And a total turn on. The man didn’t need any more qualities to make him a legend as the Hottest Man Alive. Which he was. When she first met him, she’d been bowled over by his sex appeal. And then when he matched her flirting, he leaped to the, I can make you have the Big O simply by smiling at you, status.
Bryce Cambridge also rocked her boat—metaphorically, unfortunately. The arson inspector was nothing less than beautiful in his all-seriousness splendor. Had she been given the opportunity to see him more often, she definitely would have explored what was under his badge.
Owen was more convenient to tease since he worked on site round the clock. Yet in the handful of times she’d chatted and flirted with him over the past nine months, he had yet to come on to her. To ever responded to her touching. And she touched him. A lot.
It annoyed her. Like, made her wonder what was wrong with her, while the other part respected him for his self-control. When a woman flung herself at a guy and he managed to keep his hands at a totally G-rated level and still continued to be cool and chill around her without making her feel totally rejected... yeah, he had skill.
A hot gentleman he was.
She hadn’t seen the serious, annoyed side of Owen until today. Until it involved his sister and Charlie prying too much.
Interesting. Part of her military training was to learn to read the enemy. To watch their eyes. Quick move to the right warned of deceit. A glance up and to the left meant they were telling the truth. Down to the left meant they were accessing their feelings; down and to the right showed an inner dialogue going on. It didn’t take a genius or anyone with military training to read the clenched jaw and tense shoulders.
Owen wasn’t the enemy, but he was giving off interesting signals.
Don’t get too close. Flirting was okay. Touching was acceptable. Asking about family was off limits.
Too bad Charlie wasn’t one to follow rules, especially those about not crossing the line. It’s what got her in trouble as a teen and what kept her life interesting. Crossing the line was a lot more fun when the person on the other side was like Owen McDougall.
They made their way back to the dock with few words from either McDougall sibling. She helped Olivia out of the canoe as a little girl came running over to them.
“Will you come jump in the bounce house with me? Your name is Olivia, right?”
Olivia spun around and hopped on her feet. “Can I go with Anna? Please?”
“Sure. Be sa—” She ran off with her new friend before Owen could finish. “So much for wanting to hang with me today.”
“Ah, don’t be a sour puss.” Charlie gave him a gentle tap on the cheek. “No adorable ten-year-old wants to hang out with an old man like you when there’s a jumpy house on the scene.”
“I don’t remember seeing one earlier.”
“Brooke wanted the kids to explore and do the nature and outdoor stuff before going new school and hanging on the inflatables.”
“New school?”
She shrugged. “Canoeing, nature walks, crafts... old school. Bounce house,” she pointed in the direction of the excited screams, “new school.”
“Okay,” Owen said with a shake of his head. He grabbed ahold of the tip of the canoe and pulled it across the dirt to where the other four sat.
“Look at you showing off your muscles.” She fanned herself with her hand.
“You don’t do serious very well, do you?”
“You want serious? I can do serious.” Charlie rolled her shoulders and furrowed her brows at him, forcing her grin to remain at a flatline.
He stared back too, and she found herself drowning in a sea of amazingness. Forget Jason Momoa as Aquaman, she’d rather have Owen McDougall save her from drowning, and that was saying something major.
Granted, if Momoa walked out of the pond right now and into her arms she hardly doubted she’d push him away. He was her free ticket.
Owen’s gaze locked on to hers and she flinched at the intensity in his eyes. For a moment—a very brief moment—she thought she saw a sense of... longing. His expression softened as he studied her, and she swore he could see right through her.
No, not through her. In her. Like to her soul or something metaphorical. Swallowing the lust and the intensity, she fidgeted, hoping the movement would prevent him from seeing her flaws. Her insecurities. The reasons why her family thought of her as a failure.
She cracked a smile, then a joke. “Like what you see, sailor?” She didn’t mind men staring at her body as long as they didn’t get a looksie any deeper.
With a shake of his head, he let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Let’s go check on Livy.”
She told her body to simmer down a touch. Just because he included her didn’t mean he liked her the same way she liked him.
Woah. Charlie nearly tripped over her feet. Like him as in like him? She hadn’t liked a guy in forever. Not since corpsman Dante Cooper rocked her world at the military ball three years ago. Like, literally at the ball.
Broom closet sex had been a turn on at the time, as had Dante’s chiseled pecks. Thinking back on the night, it was a total bust. He’d asked her to accompany him because they were friends. They got along well. They flirted. They didn’t want anything
serious to happen between them.
The fancy clothes, the alcohol, the close dancing. Grinding. After one dance and they were in the closet like two freaking animals in heat. The second time happened the morning after in his hotel room.
It was the last time she saw him naked, or even saw a smile on his face. Their encounters after were brief and formal as if he regretted the sex or was afraid Charlie would be begging for a relationship.
She hadn’t wanted one, but she didn’t want the cold shoulder either. Gina had tried to warn her over the years that she’d never find a respectable man with the way she talked to guys.
Maybe not, but she didn’t want to change who she was for someone else. Her parents had tried and failed miserably. If they’d let her be who she wanted to be and hadn’t demanded she act, think, do, and say exactly what they wanted her to, her life would have come out differently.
Her current status wasn’t too shabby. Thirty-two and single wasn’t a bad thing. She had eleven years of service under her belt, a medical discharge from the Army—which was another disgrace to her parents— a degree in culinary arts, and a kickass summer camp gig.
For the next few months, her life would be A-okay. When the camp closed its doors for the fall, she’d have to come up with a Plan B.
Brooke had her teaching degree and loved her first year as a middle school gym teacher. Gina sold quilts, jewelry, and crafty stuff online, and Skye, ironically, was up in the air keeping our friendly skies friendly.
The summer would keep Charlie busy and then she’d find a job at a restaurant in Kennebunkport or even Portland. She’d given up her lease on her apartment, not wanting to pay rent while living at the camp. Finding a new apartment wouldn’t be too hard.
Worse case, she’d bunk up with Gina. She liked her privacy, and her one-bedroom apartment didn’t offer much space, but one thing about spending time in the Army, you got used to living on next to nothing.
Charlie bumped shoulders with Owen—totally on purpose—when Olivia came screeching down the inflatable slide holding hands with Anna. “Seems your sister found a friend.”
“That’s good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
She studied his profile as he watched the girls climb back into the giant inflatable castle. There was a slight smile on his face as he watched her play. To anyone watching, they’d think he was Olivia’s father instead of brother.
Another damn admirable quality about him. Why did the single father look have to be so freaking sexy? Hell, she didn’t even know if she was good with kids or even liked kids. Brooke was the one who wanted the camp to open, and Charlie would do anything for her sister.
Brooke, Gina, and Skye weren’t related to her by blood, yet she’d move heaven and earth for them. They were her family. Her everything.
She saw the same love and admiration for Olivia in Owen’s eyes, if not more. She was his world and he felt it his duty to watch over her, not as a typical brother, but to protect her from something more.
From what, Charlie didn’t know, but it was strong, and she had a feeling Owen would let nothing get in the way of keeping her safe.
CHAPTER FIVE
Charlie wouldn’t say her life sucked, but it wasn’t anything to brag about either. She’d served twelve years in the US Army before her freak accident that earned her a medical discharge, and here she was finishing up her last meal in a culinary program at a community college in southern Maine.
All she wanted was to pass the final, then get back to Autumn Pond. She missed the outdoors, living in a cabin, and hanging out with Brooke and Gina.
Keeping a sharp eye on the rue bubbling on the stove and another on Chef Richard Moody, she contemplated the ramifications of dumping the white sauce on his head.
Moody was a pain in her ass. A bigger pain than the one in her knee. She reached down and absently rubbed the scars where the pins had set her kneecap back in place eighteen months ago. Another sign of one of her many mess ups.
While she may not have been the top student in her cooking classes, she was far from the worst. Yet the head chef was constantly over-criticizing everything she did. When she over-salted the rack of lamb, he turned into a fired-up Gordon Ramsey. Yet, when Patricia Keenan used baking powder instead of cornstarch in her apple pie, he turned all Paula Dean and gave her some southern comfort.
When Charlie had learned Moody was friends with her parents, it all clicked together. He’d been trained by her parents, waiting for her to mess up. Not hoping she wouldn’t, but expecting her to.
That’s how the Kellars rolled. Knowing she couldn’t do anything to change her parents’ low opinion of her, she pushed them out of her mind and continued to whisk the rue. When it was thick, she slowly stirred in the cheeses she’d shredded and watched the transformation from gooey mess to delicious cheesy delight.
Since their final was to design a themed menu, she figured she might as well make a practical one she’d use at Camp Illumination. Many students in her class chose to make an elaborate four-course meal for their final, but who didn’t love good old-fashioned mac and cheese? Hoping to wow the chefs, she took it up a notch and decided on lobster mac and cheese for her main dish. Caramelized green beans and carrots and pigs in a cornbread blanket finished off her menu.
It was a bit of a challenge to class up pigs in a blanket. She made a cornbread mixture and dipped mini smoked sausages in it before frying, almost like a corn dog. She’d contemplated pitching her idea to Olivia the other day. The cutie knew her way around the kitchen and was quite vocal about her food likes and dislikes.
Of course, she couldn’t think about Olivia without thinking about her sexy hunk of steel older brother. Who would’ve thought Owen had a little sister who worshiped the ground he walked on. Granted, if Charlie had a brother who looked like Owen...
Her heart cramped in her chest and she squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out the memory of Nathan. Seventeen was too young to die, and no matter how often her parents blamed his death on her, she knew she wasn’t to blame.
Still, she missed her brother every day. Her relationship with her parents wouldn’t have been much better if he was still alive today. They disapproved of her before his death and vocalized their absolute disgust in her every day since.
Nope. Don’t go there, Charlie. She returned her attention to the food in front of her and continued to stir the rue. She sampled it, added a dash more pepper. If the challenge was to make a healthy menu, she’d definitely fail tonight.
“Kellar. Is your goal to give us all heart attacks and high cholesterol?” Moody hovered over her kitchen space.
“No, sir. But if you’re worried about your waistline... or your heart... you may want to rethink sampling Donna Kimball’s death by chocolate masterpiece. I hear there’s something like four hundred calories in one bite.”
There’d been rumors Moody had been cheating on his wife with Donna Kimball. The single mother of two made no secret of her interest in Chef Moody, and he did a worse job of hiding how much he loved being doted on by his star pupil who had a knack for burning anything she put in the oven.
“Fresh as always,” he mumbled.
“Absolutely.” She turned off the burner and poured the sauce over the cooked spiral noodles. “You, and even my parents, always said fresh is best.”
Moody grunted before storming off to loom over the next student. It wasn’t like they were at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. The program at the community college offered an associate’s degree in two years, which Charlie would manage to get in less than eighteen months—as long as Moody gave her a passing grade tonight.
The degree wasn’t important for Camp Illumination. Charlie was already half-way through her culinary program when Brooke asked her to take over the summer cooking, which she totally couldn’t refuse. A guaranteed job for the summer and an extra one hundred-twenty miles from her disapproving parents.
Living in a cabin, getting to hang with her best frien
ds, and feeding excited kids sounded like a dream job to her. Come fall she’d have to figure out her long-term plan.
Surgeries, physical therapy, waitressing, and culinary school had kept her busy. Now with her knee functioning at ninety-six percent, her degree minutes away, and a waitressing job she could take or leave, she had to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.
Camp Illumination was in the middle of nowhere. Like, nothing to do except swim in the pond—which was breathtakingly beautiful—or hike the hills. Sugarloaf wasn’t far away so hiking would be a definite maybe—as long as her knee could handle it. Possibly skiing in the winter, again depending on the knee.
And depending if she would stick around Autumn Pond when the camp closed up. Not one to worry about more than the current day, she shoved the thought of planning her future in the back of her mind where it could mingle with her parents’ disapproval.
“Fifteen minutes until plating time,” Chef Dumas called out.
Dumb ass, as she liked to call him, was a decent guy, despite the nickname. While Moody took his job as head chef of the culinary school way too far, Dumas seemed to enjoy appearing less than smart.
He knew how to cook, but baking was his specialty. He could figure out how to triple a recipe and what one-third cup plus two-fifths cup plus one-eighth cup looked like, but he didn’t know his right from his left.
Or his ass from his elbow. The kitchen was definitely the place for Dumas, away from all humans. Especially after he asked Charlie if she was gay.
“Why do you ask?” she’d asked him.
“Because you go by Charlie instead of Charlotte.”
“It’s a nickname.”
“And you were in the Army.”
“You think all women in the Army are gay?”
“Why else would they enlist?” He’d shrugged off his statement and that was when she’d realized he was an ignorant fool.
He meant no harm nor judgement by his question and statement. He was literally that dumb.
A Thousand Sunsets (Band of Sisters) Page 4
