“That’s what this is all about?” Gina pushed back and poked her in the chest. “That’s why you pushed him on to me? Because you think you’re not good enough?”
“Well—”
“We need some serious sister intervention here. I’m going to have to call in the reinforcements.”
“Skylar has bigger issues to deal with than my love life. Like, protect our country and heal the good guys.”
“She’ll only answer if her hands aren’t bloody.”
Charlie swiped the phone out of Gina’s hand and tossed it on her pillow. “Not tonight. We have a busy eight days ahead of us. I won’t even have time to think about Owen, muchless talk about him.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Nu uh, I’m the best.” She kissed Gina on the cheek before giving her a shove into her bed. “Get some sleep and keep all the romance babble to yourself. I’ll talk to Brooke and Skylar about my feelings when we have a break.”
“Liar.”
The break wouldn’t come until the end of the summer, but she’d talk to them eventually. In the meantime, she’d keep things light and fun with Owen. With nothing going on between him and Gina, she’d bring her flirt back out.
It had been a challenge holding it all inside.
She got ready for bed and climbed into her sleeping bag, kicking one leg out to stay cool, and touched her finger to her lips.
The kiss they shared was sweet and tender. Owen had opened himself up to her and had she not been so stunned and so worried about cheating on Gina, she’d have grabbed onto his hair and plunged her tongue down his throat.
Yeah, she definitely didn’t have the romance gene Gina had.
Sex was more her style.
And if she had her way, she’d be styling big time in nine days.
“MOM. THIS IS A SURPRISE,” Charlie said, not even pretending to sound happy. She put her phone on speaker and set it on the counter next to the sink. Nothing would delay her from her date with Owen. She’d been waiting nine long days for today to finally come.
“What’s with the racket? I had hoped by now you would have settled down into a more quiet lifestyle.” Her dissatisfied sigh was loud, even over the sound from the faucet.
“I’m washing dishes.” She’d made a hearty breakfast of bacon, omelets, and blueberry pancakes for her and Gina hoping the distraction of cooking and eating would help pass time before Owen came to pick her up.
They hadn’t set an exact time, but he said he’d be there before noon. Charlie glanced at the clock above the doorway to the lodge. She had two hours to clean up and take a shower before he’d be there.
“This is what my thirty-one-year-old daughter has to show for herself. Doing dishes and cooking slop for a bunch of kids.”
“Wow. That’s harsh, even for you, Mom. And here I thought you loved the little children of the world.”
“There’s no need for your sass, Charlotte Anne.”
She rolled her eyes wishing her mother could see the much-despised action and dipped her hands into the sudsy water. “As you can hear by the pile of dishes I’m doing,” she banged the bowl against the sink, “I’m a bit busy right now. Is there a reason for your call?”
It was sad there had to be a reason for a mother to call her daughter, but in the case of Margo Kellar, calling the prodigal child had to come with a certain degree of pain.
“Of course, there is.” Like Margo would be offended at her question. “You may not remember, but tomorrow is the seventeenth anniversary of Jonathan’s death, and the high school is holding an event about the ills of drunk driving.”
Ills? Margo couldn’t use normal words like the danger of driving drunk. No, she had to dress and speak as if she were some high society la-te-da lady of importance. It freaking drove Charlie nuts.
“I’m aware of the date.” August first was a day stamped in her memory forever, even after seventeen years.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.”
Stab number two. Charlie rinsed the pot she’d scrubbed and put it in the drying rack. “Yup. Even have an auto reminder in my phone in case I forget.” If her mother could be a bitch, so could she.
“The organizers of the event asked for siblings of deceased victims of drunk driving to speak. Somehow they learned about you and asked your father and I if you would speak.”
“Me? Why?” She turned off the running water and leaned her palms against the edge of the counter.
“I asked myself the same question. Since the event is being held at Jonathan’s high school, they thought it fitting his sister be a guest. I tried to talk them out of it.”
Jonathan’s high school.
“Hey, so, remember that day in June fourteen years ago?”
“I don’t know what day you’re talking about, Charlotte.”
“You know. The time I wore a white cap and gown and crossed the stage of Jonathan’s high school and got my diploma?”
“Why do you always try to make everything about you? Tomorrow is a day to commemorate my son.”
“He was my brother. And you said tomorrow was about the ills of drunk driving. Is Jonathan the star of the show or is it coincidence the Parents Against Drunk Driving committee so happens to be holding their annual presentation at my high school on the anniversary of my brother’s death?”
“Charlotte Anne. That will be enough from you. I told your father it was a bad idea to agree on your part. You’ll only cause the family more embarrassment.”
“You told them I would? How long ago was this?”
“Not long ago. This spring sometime.”
“And you’re telling me now?”
“It’s not like you have a real job or are doing anything successful with your life.”
“Right. The Kellar family disappointment. I’m so glad I continue to live up to your expectations.”
“I’ll tell Monica Ridley you can’t make it. I’m sure I can write up a more titillating speech myself and present myself with more... poise.”
Pissed beyond measure, Charlie slammed her hand on the counter and yelled into her phone. “The hell you will! She asked me to talk, not you. I’ll be there. What time?”
Her mother hesitated. “You have dishes to wash.”
“What time?”
“The tone of your voice is not one conducive to this sort of event. I believe it is best to let sleeping dogs lie.”
“Oh, no. I save this tone for you, Mother.”
“I had hoped the Army would have instilled a sense of respect for your elders. Had you gone into the Navy—”
“Never mind. I’ll look it up online and will contact Monica Ridley myself. Thanks for the moral support, Ma.”
Charlie ended the call and picked up the closest thing to her—a spatula—and spun around chucking it across the kitchen.
Owen stood in the middle of the room and held up his hand, but not soon enough.
“Shit.” He rubbed the side of the head where she’d beamed him.
“Ohmygod.” She dashed over to him and pushed his hands away so she could see the damage she’d caused.
“Let me guess. Softball pitcher in high school?”
“And volleyball in the fall. I was known for my killer spike.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“You’re going to have a little goose egg.” She gently touched the swelling skin. “I’ll get you some ice.”
She dug around in the freezer and found a bag of corn.
“This is better. Have a seat.” She nudged him to the stool and held the corn against his face.
“Ah. That’s cold.”
“Good, since that’s the point.”
“You okay?” His kind eyes blinked slowly then darted towards her phone still sitting on the counter.
“Depends. How much did you overhear?”
“Enough.” He placed his hand over hers. “Too much. Not enough.”
“My mom and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms.”
>
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He took her free hand with his and tugged her down on his lap. “We can talk about it or I can distract you by kissing you.”
“Hm. Tough one.” She ran her hands through his hair, looping the ends around her fingers. “I kinda liked the kiss you gave me last time but...” She scrunched her nose and shrugged.
“But?” He asked with concern.
“I don’t know. It was... okay,” she teased.
“Wow.” Now he sounded amused. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave much of an impression on you. I guess I’ll have to rectify that.”
He set the bag of frozen corn on the counter and cupped her face with his hands.
“Ah.” She pulled away. “Your hand is freezing.”
“Is it now?” His grin reached his eyes as he held both hands firmly against her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She squirmed and giggled under his touch pretending to resist his touch.
“I know a way to warm you up.” Owen gently touched his lips to hers, and she all but melted into him.
This time, the kiss was still gentle, yet promised of something more. He pulled her body into his and then snaked one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, mimicking her move by playing with her hair.
When he opened his mouth, she didn’t hesitate and kissed him back. Harder. Turning into the aggressor, she traced his lips with her tongue. He tasted like mint and her heart smiled just a bit knowing he’d recently brushed his teeth or popped a breath mint for her.
It had been a solid six hours since she’d brushed, and she’d had a smorgasbord of food since then. Charlie prayed she didn’t taste like her last meal.
His moans and his obvious desire told her he didn’t mind whatever it was that her breath tasted like. He took the kiss deeper, and she pressed her chest into his as she tugged on the hair at his neck.
A vibration under her thigh sent shockwaves of want through her body. “Oh,” she hummed into his mouth.
The vibration went off again. Owen pulled back. “Sorry.” He shifted under her, moving her to his other leg and took his phone out of the pocket on the side of his cargo pants.
“Your phone.” She stifled a laugh and leaned back so he could answer it.
“Hey peanut.” Olivia. His eyes met hers as he listened to his sister.
Charlie could hear her voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“I don’t know, Liv.” Owen’s eyes narrowed as if in deep thought. He reached out and played with a strand of her hair. “That’s a lot to ask of them.”
Charlie cocked her head and mouthed, what’s going on?
He covered the phone’s speaker with his hand and said, “Gina and Brooke offered to host a sleepover at Brooke’s house tonight.”
Oh, her devilishly sly sisters. How she loved them so. With Olivia away, Owen could host a sleepover of his own. Her smile widened and she wiggled her eyebrows. “Brooke and Drew have plenty of room. She’ll be fine.”
“Yay!” Olivia screamed on the other end.
Owen moved the phone away from his ear and blinked away the noise. “Can I talk with Gina? Or Brooke? Or Drew?”
“Drew says he wants to talk to you,” her excited voice exclaimed.
Charlie wanted to hear every word Drew had to say so she straddled Owen’s lap. Facing him, she looped her hands around his neck.
He rolled his eyes and put the phone on speaker before setting it on the counter.
“Olivia seems okay with it. You cool if she hangs out with us today and tonight?”
“My sister has no qualms against inviting herself places and pinning herself on people.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind. You’ll have the McDougall abode to yourself. I know you planned on changing the sheets for me, but I bet Charlie would—”
He punched a button on his phone ending the speaker and picked it up, cradling it to his ear. “I’ll need to go back to Liv’s place and pack a bag for her.”
Charlie ran her hands up and down his torso, tickling him with her fingers in an attempt to hear the conversation.
“No. I’ll do it. It won’t take long.” He’d lost all his playfulness and his eyes grew serious. “Anything in particular I need to pack for her?”
He gently moved Charlie, until she slid from his lap.
“Sure. Not a problem...yup...sure...okay.” He pocketed the phone and scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh, I need to go pack an overnight bag for Liv. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Is that okay?”
“If you can wait ten minutes, I’ll go with you.”
“No,” he said quickly before leaving.
Charlie’s head snapped back at his quick rejection and even faster exit out the door.
LIKE HE’D SAID, AN hour later she heard the crunch of tires on the gravel and dirt parking lot from her cabin. If he’d taken any longer, she’d have had too much time to get riled up and pissed at him for his abrupt brush off and exit.
She could have used a hotter shower. And a shot of whiskey, but nonetheless she couldn’t wait for her date.
Unless this was a side of Owen she’d hadn’t seen before. The side that kept him single and unattached rather than with a steady girlfriend. No matter how much sex appeal dripped off him, if this was a sign of the kind of manners he had, Charlie wouldn’t have to worry about falling in love.
At the sound of the truck door closing, she pocketed her phone and credit card and headed out of the cabin and down the path to the lot. She caught a glimpse of Owen as he mounted the steps to the lodge.
“I’m over here.” She waved at him when he turned around.
He stood on the top step and stared at her for a beat before crossing the lot to meet her.
“Listen, Charlie.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for taking off so quickly. I... I’m sorry.”
So, he wasn’t going to tell her why he took off so quickly. She figured she had two options. Let it fester and possibly ruin their date, or call it an oddity and move on, hoping he didn’t ditch her in the middle of wherever they were going.
“Okay. Sure.” She tucked her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m glad you came back.”
“I wouldn’t have canceled on our date.”
“Good to know.”
Technically he was still early. It was almost noon, which was when he’d originally said he’d be picking her up.
“Shall we then?” She headed toward his truck, and he followed by her side.
When they got in and were buckled up, Owen started the engine and drove slowly down the dirt roads.
“So where are we off to?” she asked. Surprises weren’t normally her thing. Well, maybe if she was planning them. She was the nosy type and liked to know what, when, where, and why.
In the days before Christmas, she’d peek at her gifts, so she’d know how to react when she tore through the paper. After Jonathan died, there weren’t any presents to open. The holidays were too much for her parents, so they stopped celebrating.
“Is there a station you like to listen to?” Owen fumbled with the radio and she shook her head.
“I listen to it all. Anything except heavy rap.”
“Okay.” He dialed into a classic rock station. “Do you have any ideas on what you’d like to do this afternoon?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what you liked to do.” Gone was the confident Owen who’d kissed her with passion and tenderness an hour ago. In his place was an insecure, softly spoken stranger.
“I’m pretty easy to please. We can do lunch if you’re hungry.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Ah. You’re one of those.” She huffed a quiet laugh.
“One of whats?”
“The indecisive type. I figured you for a man in charge.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I guess it depends. Whenever I saw you with your crew working on
the cabins you were barking out orders—”
“I don’t bark out orders.”
True, he didn’t. But he wore an air of authority, unlike the vibe he threw off in the truck.
“Sure. Anyway, you usually walk around like this confident giant. Even when you kissed me you didn’t do so reluctantly. Now, though,” she shrugged, “it’s like you’re... I don’t know. Different. Second thoughts?”
“No.” He pulled the truck to the side of the road and shoved it in park. “Definitely not.”
He scratched at his chest and then his neck—a nervous habit she found incredibly enduring—and sighed. “I don’t do this often. Date. I don’t even know if I know how.”
He was nervous about their date. Her girly parts tingled at his vulnerability. “You kiss pretty darn well.”
A shy grin escaped his beautiful lips. “There are some things a man never forgets.”
“You sure about that, cowboy? It’s been a long time since you kissed me last.”
For the first time since he shoved her off his lap in the kitchen, his eyes met hers in a heated gaze.
“I’ll take you up on the challenge.” He unlatched her seatbelt and snaked his arm behind her back sliding her across the bench seat and into his warm chest.
She opened her mouth and gasped, and he swept in, claiming her lips with his. Yeah, he was one hundred million percent spot on with that one. However long it had been since he’d been on a date, he still hadn’t forgotten the art of a kiss.
Not too wet, not too simple. A little pressure without feeling forced—although she wouldn’t mind him forcing himself on her in the front seat of his truck. Truck sex, she knew from experience, was quite satisfying.
When she would have taken the kiss to the next level, he pulled back, still keeping his hands on her hips.
“You okay?”
“Oh, I’m plenty okay. But if you feel yourself getting rusty, I don’t mind helping you keep it fresh.”
Owen’s smile reached his eyes, and he tossed her a wink. “Good to know.”
“I’m helpful like that. Giving back, it’s what I do.”
His eyes softened and he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I know,” he said softly before squaring himself behind the steering wheel again.
A Thousand Sunsets (Band of Sisters) Page 13
