You're Still the One

by Rachel Harris

  Either way, he couldn’t risk leading her on. Even if she weren’t a Stone, the two of them still wouldn’t work. Blue demanded he be out on the road, and the experience with Abby had taught him that phone calls, video chats, and occasional visits simply weren’t enough. Arabella deserved more. She deserved better.

  She nodded, and her eyes fell to her lap. “I can respect that.”

  A weird silence descended, and Charlie gritted his teeth. Things hadn’t been awkward since that first day at the studio almost four weeks ago when Arabella’s cover was blown, and the weirdness now was all on him and his relentless need to remind them both why they had to keep their distance. Sometimes, he wanted to kick his own ass.

  Arabella cleared her throat and shifted her weight on the couch, and Charlie stared a hole into the coffee table. This was why he didn’t do the sharing thing. It only led to strained silence, false sympathy, or worse, heartache.

  Finally, she released a breath. “Well, I know squat about writing songs,” she said, grabbing two scones from the plate and tossing him one. Blueberry, his favorite. “I’m a pianist and only regurgitate the classics. But if you’d like some help while giving it a whirl, I’m here.”

  Charlie smiled around the fluffy bite of heaven. That’s exactly what she was, too. There. For him, for his foundation, for his niece. Anything he needed, day or night, she was always ready and eager to help, unconditionally and without reservation. Arabella was there for him, plain and simple, and he appreciated it.

  “Maybe later.” He kicked the notebook off the table, not wanting to see the pathetic phrases he’d strung together, and said, “What I really need to do is clear my mind.”

  A decorative basket sat below the coffee table holding his game controllers. Another Arabella design choice. He never even saw her bring the things in half the time, they’d just appear, corralling his junk, adding comfort and life to his bachelor pad. He hadn’t felt this cared for since his mom, before he moved out on his own at nineteen.

  Swiping two controllers on a whim, he asked, “Want to play Mario Kart?”

  The excited gleam in her eyes should’ve been his first warning.

  “Only if I’m Princess Peach.”

  Charlie nodded and grabbed the television remote, switching over to the Wii. “As you wish, Princess.”

  A change of pace. That was what tonight would be. In the week since Abby had left, Charlie and Arabella had fallen into a routine, working together during the day, then heading over to his side to eat, discuss Life & Lyrics, and play video games until they both passed out. Gaming, especially when she kicked his ass, served as an excellent distraction and deterrent from what Charlie really wanted to do—

  Haul his sexy tenant back to his bedroom and explore that incredible little body of hers.

  Unfortunately, that was off the table, a truth he’d had to remind himself of way too often, and after tonight’s escapades, he had a hunch the cock-blocking video games would no longer be enough. One thing that would help was Stone’s new habit of calling to check in, as if he didn’t trust Charlie to live up to his end of the deal or even Arabella to take care of herself. It was annoying how little he seemed to know his own daughter, and each call heaped new guilt.

  He should tell Arabella about the deal with her dad; it was the right thing to do…but not tonight. No, tonight they had a list to conquer, Charlie owed her one, and an opportunity had all but fallen into his lap. The truth could wait a little longer.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Charlie let himself into the front door of Arabella’s half of the duplex, and a wave of lavender washed over him. The fresh scent would forever be linked with her. Sweet with a hint of floral. He closed his eyes briefly and drew the fragrance deep into his lungs.

  “Christ, it smells amazing in here.”

  Arabella smiled at him over her shoulder. “It’s my diffuser,” she said, pointing to a pod-like thing in the corner. “I’m kind of addicted to essential oils. I’d considered bringing one over to your place, but I figured you’d think it was too girly.”

  “You’d think right.” He sniffed again and nodded. “But here it smells nice.”

  It smells like you.

  It was exactly that type of thinking that got him nowhere, other than tangled up in vivid dreams and cold showers. Especially considering the night he had planned. Shaking his head, Charlie snapped his hands together. “It’s time for our next adventure. Get your shoes.”

  The look she gave him was skeptical, and she motioned to her pajamas. “Uh, no? Charlie, it’s almost midnight. On a Wednesday. Where in the heck are we gonna go? Cow tipping?”

  As he laughed, envisioning her grunting and shoving a slumbering cow, a disembodied voice said, “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

  Arabella shifted and Charlie saw the computer sitting on her coffee table. A gorgeous woman with jet black hair in a high ponytail and secrets in her eyes grinned. “Hey there, Sexy Charlie.”

  He lifted two fingers in a wave. “You must be Lana.”

  He had to admit, she looked exactly the way he’d pictured her. Arabella had told him all about her roommate, and based on personality alone, he’d deduced Lana was the type of woman he usually preferred: fun, confident, beautiful, and completely anti-relationship.

  Funny. A month spent with Arabella and those attributes didn’t quite ring the same. Sure, he could admit her friend was attractive, but now he noticed other things, things that he hadn’t before. Things that left him cold.

  Take Lana’s smirk, for example. It was calculated. With one glance, he knew her seduction technique would be blatant and bold, exactly how he used to like it. But Arabella was different. She was sweet and bubbly, sort of rambly and motor-mouthed, and she was good and almost innocent. She tempted him without even trying.

  Her way was infinitely more dangerous.

  “I didn’t realize tonight was Skype night.” Charlie shoved his hands in his deep pockets but didn’t budge. The last thing he wanted was to go home alone. “If you two are busy, we can do it another time.”

  “Not so fast there, hot shot,” Lana said, adjusting the screen so she could address him directly. “I want to hear more about this adventure.”

  A co-conspirator. Charlie grinned. “We’ve been working hard, and I figured we should let off some steam. Not sure if she told you, but Arabella’s been whipping my sorry ass into shape, organizing my foundation, bringing in people and resources I never would’ve thought of.”

  She was making his dream a reality was what she was doing. Every day a new goal was met. At this rate, Life & Lyrics would be up and running in no time, as long as Stone kept up his side of the bargain. He glanced at Arabella and fought another wave of guilt. It sucked, hiding things from her, especially after her help with the foundation. It was the one downside to all of this.

  “I thought we could focus on her for a change,” he told Lana. “It’s not like that top ten list will complete itself.” He shrugged, dangling that carrot. “But if you’re busy now, we can reschedule.”

  Three, two, one…

  “No!”

  Arabella grasped his wrist, preventing him from leaving, and an electric surge shot through his body. Her soft gasp and dazed eyes said she’d felt it, too. Their eyes locked, and Charlie fought the desire to tug her over the couch and into his arms.

  Lana cleared her throat. Loudly. “What number on the list you plan on slaying?”

  Arabella dropped his wrist, and Charlie took a healthy step back. “I don’t know the order,” he replied, clenching his hands at his side. The fire in his blood screamed that this was a bad idea…but he was doing it anyway. “It’s one that she’d been worried about and I found an easy solution.”

  Girls told each other everything, and these two were close, but Charlie didn’t want to embarrass Arabella by airing her business in case she’d kept a few of the particulars from her best friend. Plus, the future prosecutor sort of terrified him. But when Lana sent hi
m a look that said spill it or else, he figured what the hell.

  “Skinny-dipping.”

  You could’ve heard a pin drop.

  Arabella’s jaw dropped, her pink cheeks growing crimson, and Lana narrowed her eyes to study him. He had an inkling what her future defendants would feel like, and he didn’t envy them one bit.

  “Tyler and Sherry are out for the night,” he explained, “so I thought we’d use their pool. It’s secluded, dark, and I’ll even keep the lights off, so I won’t see a thing.” Of course, he left out the part about him having excellent night vision, but that was a minor detail.

  Arabella covered her mouth and turned to face Lana, seeking approval, permission, or some combination of the two. What she got was a saucy wink.

  “Call me when you get home,” Lana said, a wicked smile on her face. “I’m gonna need descriptive details. Later, Sexy Charlie.”

  And with that, the video ended.

  Arabella’s shoulders rose and fell with an audible breath, and sensing her hesitation, Charlie ran his fingers through his mop of hair, fisting the ends. He wasn’t trying to push her. Admittedly, he wasn’t dreading the idea of seeing glimpses of her wet, naked skin, but he’d honestly thought this was an answer to her problem. No one would see her at Tyler’s. She could swim without fear and still have the delicious sense of being wicked.

  But if she wasn’t ready…

  “I guess I won’t be needing my suit,” she murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her nightshirt, and Charlie stilled.

  She was considering it.

  This was good. This was what he’d wanted. Why he’d grabbed his keys and come over when Tyler called, asking him to let out their dog Elvis. But part of him had suspected she wouldn’t go through with it.

  He dropped his hands and swallowed hard. “Nope.”

  His voice was a rasp, an unintended clue to the storm raging beneath his skin. Arabella stiffened and slowly turned, her eyes wide and swirling with excitement and fear. He knew because it was the same emotions going crazy in him. She bit her lip, straight white teeth dragging across the tender flesh before releasing it, and said, “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Honestly? He didn’t know if he was scared or relieved.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Breathe, sugar. There’s nothing to it. Just pretend you’re alone.”

  Arabella snorted at the ridiculousness of that statement. “Right. See, the problem with that, Obi-Wan, is that I’d be just as nervous if I were alone. As you recall, my last foray into list-inspired nudity resulted in a full monty situation.”

  Across the darkened porch, Ella heard Charlie choke. Yep, she’d gone there. Finally.

  She was exhausted from constantly dancing around the big, honking elephant in the room. Obviously having seen her half naked wasn’t that big of a deal, because nothing had really changed between them. Charlie hadn’t ravished her in the middle of the night or even hinted that he wanted a repeat of the peep show—not that she was offering—so clearly, he hadn’t been impressed. If that was the case, then really, she shouldn’t be stressing now.

  She was totally stressing.

  This wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. First of all, Tyler and Sherry’s neighborhood was darling, but when Charlie had suggested their home as the ideal location to go skinny-dipping, she’d envisioned a huge estate with a pool to rival the Playboy Mansion. What she got was a cute, modest, old-style, southern home on a quiet cul-de-sac.

  Charlie had explained that this was typical Magnolia Springs. Here, they didn’t need a huge gated community or acres and acres of land. People didn’t care about money or celebrity. The only things that mattered were how kind you were, what team you rooted for (hint: always say the Saints), and how spicy you seasoned your seafood.

  While that was all well and good, and Arabella appreciated the charm of the neighborhood, he was overlooking a huge benefit from the sprawling acreage of most celebrity homes:

  Seclusion.

  Tyler’s neighbors surrounded him on three sides. The so-called privacy fence bordering the property didn’t do squat for those towering second-story windows. And while said windows currently all sat dark, the moon was heavy and half full in the sky. There was more than enough light reflecting off the surface if a wandering eye should awaken and decide to catch a peek.

  As for the pool in question, it was absolutely adorable with its rushing waterfall and soothing, blue-tinted underwater lights…but it was a whole lot smaller than she’d anticipated. Like, so small it could be considered a lap pool. As in she’d be practically sitting on Charlie’s lap. Naked.

  “How about this?” he said, voice low and husky in the dark. “I’ll go first.”

  The rustle of fabric in the otherwise quiet night told her he was stripping down, and Arabella squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden whirlwind of emotions. That was the other thing about this little adventure of hers. It was no longer a solo dip.

  Charlie would be naked, too.

  A hiss of fabric sounded behind her, and Ella’s heart pounded in her ears.

  Correction: Charlie was naked. Right now. Just a few feet away. Swinging free in the nonexistent breeze.

  Heaven help me.

  Soft footsteps crept toward her, and Arabella almost swallowed her tongue. Touching his bare skin would be easy—so easy—as easy as stretching a hand back and extending her fingertips. Her hands clenched at her sides.

  How many nights had she lain in bed, dreaming of this very scenario? Or if not this scenario, one almost identical? Sexual tension crackling in the air, a naked Charlie within reaching distance and breathing heavily, waiting to see what she’d do next.

  Of course, there were two major differences between fantasy and reality. In those dreams, Ella had also been naked…and Charlie had wanted her, too.

  “I’m gonna get in the water, darlin’,” he said, and a hundred chill bumps erupted across her skin. Only a thin robe and the warm night air stood between them. “You take as long as you need, and you come join me when you’re ready. I’ll even keep my back turned, okay?”

  He was being so thoughtful. Kind and gentle, doing everything in his power to help her conquer her list and ensure that she was comfortable. And the only thought circling her brain right now was, why can’t you see me?

  The true stinger was that he had seen her once. That night at Country Roads. She’d even seen tiny flares of interest since then, whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. But he always shut it down. Shuttered it behind an unaffected expression of friendliness and disinterest.

  Had he changed his mind because of who her dad was? Or was it because of her? Was she not desirable enough? Sexy enough? Brazen and bold enough?

  “Arabella?”

  She nodded at the concern in his voice, unable to speak past the silly lump in her throat, and after only the slightest hesitation, Charlie padded by on his way toward the softly lit pool.

  The proper thing would be to avert her eyes. To keep them shut and give Charlie the same courtesy he’d extended her: privacy and respect. That was what she should’ve done…but it wasn’t what she did. Even as guilt hit her stomach, her eyes remained fully open. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was missing this view.

  Charlie Tucker was beautiful.

  The glow of the moon hugged the ridges of firm muscle rippling his back, highlighting his strength with the interplay of light and shadow. His broad shoulders were massive, like a linebacker, sharp and defined. The bulges his clothes hinted at during the day were on mouthwatering display, flexing and bunching as he took the first step into the water.

  Dappled moonlight played across the skin her fingers itched to touch. Charlie was a large man; his thighs were as thick as tree trunks, and his arms were the size of her head. But she’d never realized just how perfect he was.

  Licking her lips, Arabella let her gaze dip lower.

  His ass was a revelation.

  Water lapped against his waist as he waded far
ther and farther into the pool. As promised, he headed straight for the other side, eventually resting his arms along the stone walkway as he kept his back turned. He was the picture of patience, the consummate southern gentleman. But that was the problem. Ella didn’t want the gentleman. She wanted the fantasy.

  What would it take for the bad boy to pay a visit?

  The question was dangerous. Even thinking it was playing with fire…but Ella’s summer motto existed for a reason. Biting her lip, she contemplated whether she could really do it, let loose and not worry about the consequences of her actions. Live in the moment.

  Her hands were at her belt before she’d realized her decision. Her robe fell in a puddle at her feet and she stepped out quickly, shivering as the night air slid across her skin. It wasn’t cold. Summer in Louisiana was never cold, day or night. Awareness was what pricked her skin. Awareness and excitement…and the smallest hint of possibility.

  Heart fluttering like a hummingbird, Ella picked her way across the stones, the steps still warm from the day’s brutal sun. She lowered herself, one concrete step at a time, until the tepid water lapped against the undersides of her breasts. She gasped at the sensation.

  If she’d thought the biker bar felt decadent, this was positively wicked. Never in her wildest dreams had Arabella considered checking skinny-dipping off her list in this way, with neighbors potentially watching, and a naked Charlie Tucker as a wingman.

  He tensed as she glided across the pool, the muscles of his back like chiseled marble. She’d love to believe it was because of her, that he longed to touch her as badly as she wanted to be touched. But she knew him well enough to know that even if he did, he’d never act on the desire. Not unless his guard was down.

  So, Arabella did what any self-respecting woman in her situation would do. She dipped her hands into the water on either side of her body, gently cupping them so as not to make any sudden waves. She grinned as she bent her knees for leverage…and then, stifling a laugh, swung her hands high and up into the air.