Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1)

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Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1) Page 6

by Fabiola Francisco


  The voices become white noise as I filter through the shelves, grabbing a book with a cowboy on it—my weakness.

  I walk around to look at another shelf and freeze when I see a man in a suit squatting to talk to one of the girls while the other flips pages of a picture book. My heart thunders, and my blood drains when I take in Miles’s ginger hair.

  Ms. Collins must see the pale, horrified look on my face because she asks, “June, dear, are you okay?”

  I slowly turn to her, nodding, but I suddenly feel a heated gaze on the side of my face. No doubt, Miles is looking at me.

  Does he have kids? Is he the father of two girls? This doesn’t make sense. My mom would’ve mentioned that. Is he divorced? Because I’d hope he wouldn’t hurt those two adorable little girls by cheating on their mother and trying to ask other women out. Oh. My. God. Does he want me to be the other woman?

  A million thoughts crash into my mind, making me dizzy, and I almost drop the stack of books. I place them on the counter, so I can steady myself when I hear one of the girls say, “Uncle Miles, can I get dis one?”

  They must be Brett’s daughters since I know Madison doesn’t have children, and she doesn’t live here.

  I should’ve known, considering I’m not a total stranger in this town. Stupid brain going on overdrive and coming up with scenarios I know are not true.

  I sigh loudly, no doubt everyone noticing my reaction. I’ll lie to myself and say I’m relieved because it means that he isn’t cheating on his wife. Somewhere in the dark recess of my mind, I note that part of my relief means that he isn’t as unavailable as I believed a moment ago.

  He responds to his niece then looks at me again. I still refuse to make eye contact. I shuffle through the books, trying to narrow down my choices, but I’m hyperaware of him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

  “Hi, Junebug,” his deep voice washes over me, and I snap out of my daze at the sound of the nickname I hate.

  “Miles,” I narrow my eyes at him and look at Mrs. Collins, who has the ghost of a smile painted on her lips. “Mrs. Collins, can I leave these here while I search for more? I’ll put them back in their spot once I make my choice.”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “Romance? I didn’t take you for a romance reader.” He smiles that one dimple smile, and I suppress a shiver.

  “Why not?” My voice is flat and indifferent.

  He shrugs. “I dunno. I expected mystery or thriller.”

  “A strong and independent woman can read romance books, whether you think it’s shameful or not. Romance is more than a relationship or sex. It’s about growth, trust, love, forgiveness, and personal development,” I begin my rant for when people judge the choice of reading romance, but Miles lifts his hands in surrender and widens his eyes.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa… I didn’t mean it… Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, and one of his nieces laughs, saying he owes her a quarter.

  Mindlessly, he sticks his hand in his pocket and hands something to her. She whoops, and I notice it’s a dollar instead of the coin she requested. I don’t have much time to observe the situation because Miles is stalking toward me. I press my back against the counter behind me in an attempt to gain some distance, but it’s useless.

  Miles stands toe-to-toe and looks down at me with a mischievous gleam. “You used to read mysteries in high school, which is the cause of my assumption. If you want to read romance, I’m all for your reading choices. Hell, I even encourage it.” There’s an underlying meaning to his words that I miss because I’m too busy trying to focus on my breathing, so I don’t pass out from lack of oxygen. My chest heaves as I stare at him with wide eyes.

  Miles's green eyes gaze into mine, searching, and when it becomes too much, I close my eyes and inhale. The girls say something behind Miles, I think asking who I am, and Miles breaks contact, running a hand through his hair like I’ve seen him do quite often at work these days.

  I quickly learned he doesn’t work the weekends, which was a relief. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see him on my day off in the bookstore during work hours. The clearing of a throat behind us breaks the tension, and I flush bright red when I realize Mrs. Collins has witnessed everything.

  I step around Miles and rush toward the shelves, hiding my mortification. I vaguely hear Miles tell his niece that I’m a friend. Then, he jokes around with her, her giggles filling the air. The other girl joins the fun, and I peek at him through the line of books, catching him making monster voices as he reads a page of one of the books they picked. An involuntary smile lifts my lips.

  I blow out a deep breath when they pay for their things and leave. After a few more minutes, I head to the counter and avoid Mrs. Collins’s eyes. I choose the book with the cowboy on it and put the rest away even though she said I didn’t have to.

  I chance a glance at Mrs. Collins when I return to the counter. Her eyes are warm and comforting. Her smile is a combination of trustworthy and devious.

  “That boy likes you,” she finally breaks the awkward silence.

  “What? No!” I shake my head, handing her cash for the book.

  “June, I’ve been around a lot longer than you. I know when a man is interested in a woman.”

  “Miles is…” I’m at a lack of words. I can’t quite say he’s a player since I don’t know what his love life has been like. “He’s not the kinda guy interested in a girl like me, and he’s definitely not the kinda guy I want.”

  “You mean you don’t like the tall, handsome, sweet men who spoil their nieces and have a heart of gold?” I roll my eyes. She’s charmed by the Miles Carlisle spell.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, girl. He’s a catch, but so are you. He’d be lucky you gave him the time of day. Don’t ever doubt that. You’re gorgeous.” I resist another eye-roll and mumble an uncomfortable thanks.

  I don’t tell her I disagree because I know better than to go against what any of the older women in Willow Creek say. It’s best to smile and nod.

  Confusion clouds my mind as I leave The Book Nook. The bright sun shines down, exposing the truth. I don’t like the way I reacted to Miles. I don’t like the relief I felt when I realized he wasn’t a father.

  I walk aimlessly into The Grind, knowing Lucy will be working. She’s become a good friend since I met her, and it’s nice to have someone on my side. When I reach the counter to order, her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t ask any questions. I turn to sit and freeze when I see Miles and his nieces at a nearby table.

  Can’t I catch a break?

  He’s coloring with them as they laugh at something he draws. I’m stuck in place, watching them like a weirdo with a stalking tendency. It isn’t until someone behind me clears their throat and asks me to move that I snap out of it and sit at an empty table, my back to Miles.

  I hide my face, blowing on the steaming cup of coffee and cracking open my new book. I lose track of time until a small hand pats my arm.

  I lift my gaze to see Miles's older niece smiling at me. “This is for you. My uncle told me if I gave it to you, he’d buy me ice cream later, and I really, really, really love ice cream.” She gives me a toothy smile. She’s adorable with big green eyes and pigtails.

  “Hold on a sec.” I open the paper and barely read the note.

  Junebug, you still haven’t answered my question. When can I take you out? Enjoy your romance.

  I roll my eyes and look at the little girl. Her round eyes and bright smile are hopeful. Who am I to deny her ice cream. I scribble on the paper.

  Employing and bribing children to do your dirty work is probably illegal. If not, it should be. You better buy her a huge sundae for delivering this. The answer is no.

  I fold it back up and hand it to the girl before continuing to read my book. However, curiosity gets the better of me, and I sneak a glance over my shoulder. Miles grins, shaking his head, and then frowns. His eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to get lost in their gre
en hues as if I were in the middle of a peaceful forest I never want to leave.

  I furrow my eyebrows at that thought and look away. No is the best answer I can give Miles. He’s still the same person he was back then, but now he’s also my boss. I’m not the girl for Miles, and soon he’ll get bored with his pursuit and leave me alone.

  Chapter 10

  Miles

  I fold the note and put it in my pocket after reading June’s rejection. She didn’t even let me down gently, and that stings. She’s so certain I’m wrong for her, and I should keep my distance with her now working at the winery, but I can’t seem to.

  “What did the note say?” Charlie asks, looking at me with her big, green eyes.

  “Nothing,” I shake my head. She doesn’t need to know about grown-up stuff, so I go for the perfect distraction for her six-year-old mind. “Let’s go get you some ice cream.”

  She squeals, making a few people laugh at her joy. I can’t help but smile as well. These girls make our family so much happier. I can’t imagine them not existing. Their innocence and unconditional love are something I can’t live without.

  Charlie and Chloe love ice cream, but they also love the muffins at The Grind, which is why we stopped by after the bookstore. I’m the uncle who’s allowed to spoil them before they go home to Brett hyped up on sugar. It’s payback for the interview crap he purposefully threw on me.

  I don’t look at June when I leave. Instead, I focus on the two girls who have me wrapped around their fingers. I lift them both up when they grip my hands, throwing them into a fit of giggles.

  “Again,” Chloe screams. I follow orders because no one in our family can tell this sweet four-year-old no, and lift them half a foot off the ground before placing them back down and walking down the sidewalk, hand in hand.

  Charlie and Chloe are chatterboxes as we walk to the ice cream shop, telling me all about their summer camp. Charlie’s high-pitched voice squeals when she tells me about the adorable sea turtles she saw at the aquarium last week and how she’s going to ask for one for her birthday. I laugh, hating to burst her bubble that it’s practically impossible to have a sea turtle as a pet but making a mental note. I could gift her a small pet turtle.

  Brett’s been raising these girls alone for two years. Sure, he’s got his family, but he lost his wife. I can’t imagine what that must feel like, but we don’t talk much about it. He focuses on the girls and locks up his emotions. I help when I can, which is often since these two beauties are my priority.

  I smile as I look at them while they order their ice creams, the woman working the shop laughing at Chloe’s indecisiveness between chocolate sprinkles or rainbow sprinkles, so I suggest she get both. With huge waffle cones, the girls hurriedly eat their melting ice cream as we walk the streets of Willow Creek. We greet people along the way, some commenting how big the girls are.

  I cringe when Kayla, a woman I went to school with and have known my whole life, saunters up to us. I smile politely but keep my distance. Despite her efforts to become more than an acquaintance, I’ve never fallen for her and her snotty attitude. She’s not my type at all.

  My family is well-known in town. We’re popular and wealthy, but I’ve never treated anyone differently because of that. Kayla is the total opposite.

  “Miles, we should get together soon,” she coos, and I shift uncomfortably, grateful Charlie and Chloe are with me.

  “Uncle Miles,” Charlie tugs my hand. Saved by the kid. “I gotta go potty.” She starts dancing around.

  “Oops, sorry, Kayla, gotta go.” She glares at my niece before plastering on a fake smile.

  “No worries. I’ll catch you another time. Bye, girls.” Her sugary sweet voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

  I turn and walk away, guiding Charlie back to the ice cream shop to use the bathroom when she pulls my arm and stops walking.

  “What?” I lift my eyebrows. “You have to go to the bathroom.”

  Charlie giggles, streaks of ice cream running down her chin and dirtying her shirt. “Nope.” She shakes her head, messy strands of hair flying out of her pigtails. “I made that up. I don’t like that girl.” Her nose scrunches up adorably, and I can’t help but laugh.

  I bend down, Chloe by my side. “You shouldn’t lie, but thank you.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?” Chloe asks.

  “What? No.”

  “Good,” Charlie says. “She’s always looking at us weird when she talks to you.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I assure her and stand.

  Chloe nods and licks her fingers, her face a sticky mess. I think it’s time to go home and clean up.

  When we arrive at my parents’ house, the girls run up the steps and rush inside, calling out for their granny. I chuckle as my mom hugs them and then guides them to the bathroom, giving me a knowing look.

  “Smells good,” I comment when I walk into the kitchen in search of a beer. Ms. Sullivan is cooking supper.

  “Thank you, Miles. How are you? I heard the girls come in.” She warmly smiles as she stirs something in the pot. For as long as I can remember, Ms. Sullivan has been a part of our family. She’s taken care of the house, cooked for us, and helped clean up my skinned knees since I was a little boy.

  “I’m good, and you? I brought the girls. I’m sure they’ll come around to say hi after their baths. I spent the afternoon with them, and they got dirty eating ice cream.” I sit at the island, sipping my beer. It smells like Ms. Sullivan’s pot pie. It’s my favorite, so maybe I’ll stick around for dinner.

  Ms. Sullivan hums as she cooks, something she’s always done, and I can’t help but think about June. Her rejection stings in my pocket, and I try to come up with another way to talk to her where she can see I’m not the bad guy she believes me to be.

  Without thinking, I ask, “Ms. S, what’s June’s favorite flower?”

  Her eyes snap up to mine and narrow before a slow smile lifts her lips, and she tilts her head. “Are you pursuing my daughter?” She stops cooking and crosses her arms.

  I swallow thickly, having never felt intimidated by her like I do right now. This is worse than that one time she caught Madison and me smoking one of my dad’s cigars in our treehouse.

  “Uh, no,” I scratch the side of my head. “It’s for work,” I rush out quickly. “We welcome all new employees with flowers, and since I have an in, I figured I’d use your opinion.” I’m not sure if she buys my cover-up.

  “Well, since you asked me, and it is for work,” her eyes gleam, and I have a feeling she doesn’t believe a word I spoke. “June doesn’t like flowers.”

  “What?” My tone is disbelieving.

  “She says they’ll die right away, and it’s a shame to cut them from their source of life for selfish human reasons.”

  I chuckle. “That sounds like somethin’ she’d say. I guess we’ll have to come up with another welcome gift.”

  “She does love to read, and she’s always complainin’ that she’s losing all her bookmarks,” she winks and turns toward the stove.

  Bookmarks… I can work with that—a bouquet of bookmarks. I mentally pat myself on the back because I’m a genius and whistle as I walk out of the kitchen with a new beer in hand. I hear Charlie telling my mom about her day when I pass the downstairs bathroom and walk outside to sit on the bench on the front porch.

  I’m scrolling through different bookmark ideas when I hear an engine approaching the house. I look up and lift my brows in surprise when I see June pulling up. I chuckle at her glare when she sees me. Standing, I walk toward her, but she stays in her car. I tap on her window so she can’t ignore me. When she lowers it with raised eyebrows, I take that as my cue to speak.

  “Your mom’s still cooking dinner. Why don’t you get out? Or you could eat with us,” I suggest.

  June laughs dryly and rolls her eyes.

  We’re interrupted by a loud scream. “Uncle Mil— What are you doin’ here?” Charlie looks between June and
me when she reaches my side. “Is this your girlfriend?” Charlie points to June as she turns to me, and I freeze, wide-eyed. June’s expression is just as shocked as mine.

  “I’m not. I’m here to pick up my mom.” June answers before I can.

  Gathering myself, I tell her, “June’s mom is Ms. Sullivan.

  “Your mommy’s Ms. Sully? You’re lucky.” Charlie’s smile beams. “I love ‘er.”

  June smiles at my niece and nods. “I am very lucky.”

  “You could get out,” I suggest again.

  “I’m okay here.”

  “Yeah, yeah! Come on. Get out, pretty please.” Charlie clutches her hands together, pouting with the most adorable puppy dog face, big green eyes, and all. Her nose scrunches up in her effort to convince June to get out of her car. I guess she likes her better than she likes Kayla. I smile at that thought. It’d be important to me that my nieces approve of the girl I date and vice versa.

  June glances at me for help, but I shrug. “No one can say no to that face and not feel guilty about it.”

  She mumbles something and turns off the ignition, opening the door. Charlie cheers, jumping in the air.

  “Are you barefoot?” I look at her feet.

  “Uhh…” Charlie’s eyes dance around as she tries to come up with an excuse. She’s cute, but she’s not quick when it comes to lying or hiding things. “I just ran out here so fast to let you know that we’re eating dinner here, and I forgot.”

  June laughs at her explanation and leans against the car.

  “If you’re Ms. Sully’s daughter, how come I’ve never seen you before?”

  “I used to live in Los Angeles, and I moved back recently.” June bends when she talks to her, so she’s at eye level with Charlie.

  “That’s cool. I’ve never been there before. I wanna go to Disney, but I don’t know when I will. I wanna see Mickey and Minnie. Oh! And Snow White. She’s my favorite princess. Do you have a favorite?” Charlie talks fast, pulling June’s hand until she’s practically dragging her toward the bench.

 

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