by Brill Harper
And logically, I know it isn’t Charlie’s fault. Part of me feels like I should be tucking all the anger back in.
Part of me wants him to see everything.
He pulls the hat off his head, clenching it in his fist near his thigh. “I told you things. Things I never told another soul. Your brother has nothing to do with us.”
“I heard him—”
“That was the first time he’s said anything like that to me. I hope you believe that. But even if you don’t—you have to believe that night we had together.”
My brain tries to reject what he is saying. But I can’t turn off what I feel. “Why?”
“Why did your brother ask me to be nice to you? Because he’s worried about you. And he has no idea that I’ve already kissed you. That I’ve been in your bedroom. That I’ve felt closer to you than any other person in my entire life.”
I close my eyes, trying to block out the conflicting emotions warring inside me. He could be lying. Covering. Trying to make me feel good. Just like Carter asked him to.
His palm on my cheek makes me open my eyes. “I’m going to kiss you again. And if you still feel any doubt that I’m here with you because I can’t stay away, I’ll walk out of this town and you never have to see me again.”
He is going to kiss me? Every nerve ending in my body sings a hallelujah chorus. No—Emily, slow down. You don’t want him to kiss you.
Liar.
He just keeps turning my world upside down until I don’t know what I know or feel anymore. Could a kiss decide that for me? One kiss? It was one kiss that started this all. “What if I do believe you? What happens then?” What if he can’t stay away? I’m not ready for either proposition.
He moves his hand down, sliding it to the back of my neck. “I have no idea. You ready to find out?”
Am I? Am I brave enough to just go with it, not knowing what comes next?
I knew all my next steps with Alan, and look how that turned out.
But I’m angry and embarrassed and confused. Why does he even like me? How had he even seen me? The shadow I’ve lived under since the bachelor party has cloaked me so well for so long.
Charlie’s dark gaze is zeroed in on me. He sees me. He knows my flaws, but he doesn’t turn away. Isn’t disgusted. I’ve even been a shrew to him and still here he is.
I’m really not ready, but I nod.
“Not good enough. Tell me.”
I roll my eyes at him. I can’t just say the words he wants to hear. I’m not like that.
He tugs on my hair, pulling me closer. Stares at my mouth, but doesn’t kiss me. He won’t be gentle, but he won’t push me.
And Charlie would never cry while we were having sex.
“Kiss me, Charlie. I want you to kiss me. And we’ll find out what happens next.”
Tagged: Chapter Ten
Charlie
THAT IS ALL I NEED to hear.
I don’t want to waste time with soft, coaxing kisses. She needs to know how she affects me and my words haven’t been working.
I hold her firmly, one hand wrapped in her braid, and slam my mouth into hers. She opens for me instantly, allowing me to plunder with my tongue, my teeth, my lips. I need to slow down, but I can’t. This woman who pretends to be a mousy girl writhes against me, pulling me like the tide, and I am powerless.
The rough demand of my mouth should have frightened her. It frightens the hell out of me. This kiss is against all rules of engagement. But more. I need more.
Emily unzips my coat, pushing me away so she can pull it off my shoulders. I pull her back as soon as she is done, burying my face in her neck. Her gasped breath shocks the silence when I suck on her earlobe.
“Oh, God. That’s so good.”
My hands slide under her shirt, sweeping across the soft skin of her abdomen. She shivers when my fingertips graze the bottom of her bra. I pause, pulling back to look at her face.
I want. Fuck, do I want. I’ve never let myself long for anything before. Not when I grew up knowing that it makes you weak to need something you might not get.
But I want her. All of her. I want the taste of her on my lips. The slide of her skin under my hands. I want to bury myself balls deep inside her. I want to paint her tits with my cum. And I can have all that right now. She’d let me.
But it won’t be enough.
I can’t just make do. I want her smiles. The light in her eyes. Her laughter and her tears and all the things I’m not entitled to.
And most of all, I want to erase her fear—the shame that wars on her face even now. I want to undo everything the weasel said and did to her that has her twisted up inside. But I’m not the one who can do that. Only Emily can overcome that.
“Why did you stop kissing me?” she asks, and my heart breaks at the dejection in her voice.
“I don’t want you to regret me.” I ease my hand out from under her shirt. “I want to take everything you offer, but I don’t think I have enough to give you in return. But I especially don’t want you to regret anything that happens between us.”
Her gaze darts around the room like she just realized where she is and what she is doing. She shakes her arms out, shaking me out of her system.
“We’ve only known each other for what...four days?” She takes a step back. Withdrawing. Every thought she has plays across her face like a movie. “I don’t want to be like this. I can’t win. I know I can’t. It’s not wrong to want you. Why can’t I get his awful words out of my head?”
“Mistletoe, I want to swoop in like a knight in shining armor right now. I want to believe that I have the secret key to make you feel good again. That I could heal your pain with my dick, and that you’d come so hard and so many times that you’d never feel shy again.” I laugh as she turns bright red. “And I’m conceited enough to know I can make you come. A lot. I might even be good for you.” I ease back a step. “But it’s not Alan that is slut-shaming you in your head right now. It’s you. And that I can’t fix.” I trace a finger down the curve of her cheek. “Only you can do that.”
She blinks as if the room has suddenly grown bright. “You’re...right.”
“It happens once in a while.”
“You kissed me like you want me. That’s real, right? That’s not some twisted—”
“If your brother knew the things I want to do to you, he’d lock you in a tower and me in a dungeon. I think you’re fucking hot.”
“You called me cozy.”
“I called your apartment cozy. And believe me, that was the first time I’ve ever said that word out loud.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “You haven’t had a lot of comfort in this life, have you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Is that something you want? Comfort?”
I thought I understood the lay of the land a few minutes ago, but she just flipped the map and everything is tilted and strange. I don’t know the answer to that. Is she trying to trick me? What does she want me to say?
Is she right? Am I looking for a cozy place to hide after all that I’ve seen and done? Am I using her for something?
Or maybe comfort, the peace I feel with her, is what is telling me she is the one thing I’m willing to yearn for after a lifetime of not allowing myself to want. She has me in knots. I ache in all the places she opened inside me. Ache for her.
“I just want you, Emily.”
She nods, though her concentration is elsewhere. Outside of the room. “I want to show you something.”
Normally, that would trigger a most excellent response, but her expression makes me wary. I follow her into the other room without saying a word. She stops and opens a drawer, pulling out a DVD. Her hands are shaking.
“If that is what I think it is—”
Emily straightens her spine. “It is. I want you to watch it.”
“No. Why?”
She shrugs and opens the case. “I don’t know.”
I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know t
his is not a great idea. “Emily—”
“I’m taking it back.”
I don’t think she means the DVD. “Taking what back?”
“My life.”
Emily
CHARLIE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND and that is okay. He doesn’t need to.
I don’t even understand it, though it is probably more important that I do.
My hand trembles as I try to insert the DVD into the player. Trembles so badly I can’t get it seated correctly. Charlie stills me with his quiet, warm fingers, taking the disc away from me and getting it into the machine. I back up and use the remote to turn on the television.
I haven’t watched the movie since that night, but I know where my cameo is thanks to Alan so thoughtfully including where to start when he mailed me the video. That wasn’t all he said in the note, but I push those names aside and cue to the twelve-minute mark.
There we are. God, I look so young. It is hard to believe that it was less than three years ago. Sheila and I answer a few questions—giggle mostly. Florida was a blast—I just remember that now for the first time. We had done some drinking, sure, but we just laughed and laughed most of the trip. The booze wasn’t the highlight. The filming had just been a blip on my vacation until it came to symbolize everything about me.
But right there, at that moment, I was a girl having a wonderful vacation. That Emily thought this would be her secret forever. Something to remind her that she was capable of being surprising. Of having fun and being reckless.
Our intro is brief on camera. I pull in a deep breath. And then. Well. There we are. In all our glory.
The next segment comes on before I realize I’m off the screen. I pause the video and steal a look at Charlie.
A shrug that pretends to be careless lifts his shoulder. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Except that anytime you want to watch it again, I’m game.”
A laugh escapes me, though it sounds more like a sob. The laugh must have been acting like a cork because when it comes out, it releases the stale air I’ve been holding in since the bachelor party. Pounds and pounds of air expel into the atmosphere. “I do want to watch it again,” I say. And I do.
We watch it two more times. Charlie takes the remote from me. “Well?”
He doesn’t call me names. He doesn’t act astonished or disgusted. He doesn’t change at all.
I sink into my couch. “I feel so light. So...free.” My face feels hot. “You probably think I am so weird right now. But did you see me? I had fun.”
“Yeah, I saw you. Three times.” He takes the spot next to me. “For the record, that was insanely hot. Not just that you flashed the camera—but watching it with you. I know it was some sort of cathartic exercise for you, or maybe you meant to punish yourself or test me or whatever—but watching you flash your tits while standing next to you was damn erotic.”
The turtleneck is too hot. “Stop saying tits, Charlie.”
“No.” He picks up my hand. “How are you doing?”
“That movie was a stupid thing to do, but the stupider thing would have been marrying a man who judges girls so harshly while spending $29.99 a month to watch them.” I’ve known it for a long time. But it wasn’t until tonight that I finally know it in my heart too, not just my mind.
“Thank God you dodged that bullet, yeah?” Charlie sits back and settles me under his arm. “I don’t want you to ever think badly of yourself. It doesn’t matter if you do or don’t have sex. Or do or don’t wear tight sweaters. Or do or don’t wear only shades of brown and browner.” I pinch him. “The point is, the weasel and a lot of guys like him have two sets of standards for women, and neither is particularly flattering. You deserve better.”
I rub my cheek against his flannel shirt. I didn’t think I’d find so much comfort with a man I hardly know. But Charlie is no weasel. “Thank you. For tonight. For...everything.”
“I should be the one saying thank you.” He kisses the top of my head. “We should go soon. Your family is going to wonder what happened to us.”
The slap of rejection stings my already sore ego. He said it was erotic, but he wants to leave? Kiss me on the head like I’m a kid? I pull back to a seated position. “You don’t want to...of course not.”
One sharp tug from Charlie, and I’m in his lap. “Of course I want to.” I feel how much he wants to under my butt. “But not tonight. And I’ll kick myself later for this. But tonight, you’re vulnerable and it wouldn’t be right.”
“I am not—”
He put a finger to my lips. “You are. But you won’t always be. I want you to come to my bed with no regrets. The reasons we don’t work haven’t changed. I’m thirteen years older than you, and I’m just passing through. I don’t have anything you need. Not long-term.” He slides his hand up my arm and back down again, the heat of him searing me beneath my sleeve. He can make me feel too much. Maybe I don’t have the defenses for him just yet. “Give yourself a little time to make sure this is what you want. We don’t have a future—but the present could be amazing.”
He’s as scared as you are. I don’t know a lot about men, but I’m beginning to understand this one.
He is right—I’m a little vulnerable tonight. I’ve been dragging around chains so heavy Jacob Marley would be proud.
But Charlie isn’t exactly free of his past either.
“You told me once we were inevitable.”
“I also told you I’m no good for you.”
I push off his lap. “I don’t need forever or long-term. I understand this is a fling.”
He doesn’t correct me, so I go in the other room to grab my stuff.
I feel a tickle of the girl who wanted to do something unexpected. The girl I’ve pushed down for the last few years. A fling with Charlie is more dangerous than flashing my boobs on camera.
I really should think about just getting a tattoo.
Tagged: Chapter Eleven
Charlie
AFTER DELIVERING THE bikes to Toys for Tots, sledding on the mountain, and making curls out of ribbons for an hour—all three things I’ve never done before—it is time to get ready for the kids’ party. I’ve been tasked with helping Mr. Jones...Mark...get the Santa suit on and get him to the party since he can’t reach the steering wheel with his extra padding.
To say that it is unsettling to spend one-on-one time with the father of the woman I’m currently trying to get into bed would be an understatement.
And so is the phrase “trying to get into bed.” I’ve had more than one chance to do it, and my cock is currently hating me for discovering I have a nice-guy side. I’m tense. Grumpy as fuck. And need a release my morning run did not provide. If I don’t fuck her soon, I’m going to have to start a bar fight. I don’t see any other way around it. Fuck or fight.
“How’s your Camaro, son?” Mark asks while I attach his Santa belly.
“She’s a beauty. Jason Jones should quit the sheriff gig and rebuild cars fulltime.”
Mark laughs. “Not likely. He likes his job too much. What about you?”
I cinch the belt and hope it will hold. That is more than a bowl full of jelly. “Me?”
“What are your plans now?”
I should know the answer to that. I wish I did. I’m thirty-eight years old, but I feel like a kid just graduating high school again. Not the kind of guy a man wants sniffing around his daughter, that’s for sure.
“After the Camaro, I don’t really know.”
“Lots of men go into law enforcement after the military. Do you need to start working right away?”
I shake my head and help Mark into the furry red jacket. “I didn’t spend much over the years. My car is gonna cost me, but I have a good sized savings. Plus retirement pay.”
Mark nods. “You should have Emily go over finance stuff with you. She’ll tell you she’s just the bookkeeper for my parents, but she majored in finance. She could have gone anywhere. She’s really good. But she likes it here in Maple Grove.”
Mark sits in the chair, and I bring over the boots. “You ever think about teaching as a career, Charlie?”
“Me? No. Why?”
“Carter tells me all the guys learned a lot from you. He thinks you have a knack for it. The patience he lacks.”
The boot needs to be tugged. Hard. Mark grunts as it finally slips over his ankle. “Sorry, man,” I say, knowing that didn’t feel good. I get the other one on easier. “I don’t have the education to be a teacher.
“There’s the GI Bill.”
“Who’s going to let a man my age into college?”
“Lots of men your age go to college. Or change careers and go back to college.”
I never thought about going to school. Not even once. I never thought I was the schooling type. “If I ever went to college again for a job, it would be something for disadvantaged kids.”
Mark hangs his beard over his ears. “Really? Like foster kids?”
Suddenly self-conscious, I hand him the Santa hat. “I grew up in the system, so yeah.” No shame, right? I worked hard to outrun the shame, but it still haunts me. Maybe it always will.
“We have a program in Washington you could volunteer for. It’s called CASA. They train you to be a guardian ad litem. I’ll get you the brochure. You’d be a child advocate in the court system. It’s a volunteer position—but the experience would maybe point you in the direction for a career.”
I think about that the whole drive into town. I never had an advocate when I was a kid. If I could do that for someone else...
“Hey Santa, do they have that program in other states, too?”
Mark shrugs. “Probably. I’m only familiar with Washington laws though. It’s a good state. You might like to stay. You know people here. There is a university twenty minutes away. Emily could help you find a place in town.”
