by Leah Atwood
“You’re a smart man. You’ll figure it out.” Caleb turned to go. “Follow me. It’s time you went home and got back to bed. You’ve got a lot to think about.”
“You’re not going to take me to see myself in the future?” Tate asked.
Caleb shook his head. “I think you’ve already had a rough enough night’s sleep. No need to depress you further.”
“Depress?” Tate gulped. “It’s that bad?”
“If you don’t get past being negative and taking chances…” Caleb shrugged. “You’ll not only doom yourself to a life alone, you’ll keep your sister from moving on and having a life.”
Tate closed his eyes. Was he keeping his sister from finding happiness? Being doomed to spend the rest of his life alone was bad enough, but to inhibit his sister’s ability to move on and find happiness was not a burden he wanted to be saddled with for the rest of his life.
Was it too late for him to have a chance with Charity? She already had a date with another man. Would his interference only doom her to a life of despair as well? “I can’t!”
Tate shook and opened his eyes. He looked down and realized he was sitting upright in his bed. Was it a dream? Working on this play was playing tricks with his mind. If it were real, he’d be rich and tomorrow he’d only have to change his ways and be happy, then everything would be right with the world.
Over the next week-and-a-half, Tate prided himself on being cordial toward Charity. He was her boss and had no right to place any expectations on her personal life. His mind however, had a will of its own. Thoughts of her curly blonde tresses, gentle green eyes and sparkling smile haunted him. During practice, Tate chanced glances toward Charity whenever he was sure she couldn’t see him—like now.
“She watches you too.”
Tate jumped. “Mrs. Morrison, I didn’t see you.”
“I don’t think you were looking for me either.” She chuckled. “It’s obvious you’re interested in Charity and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. You should ask her out.”
“I did and she said no.” Tate shrugged. “Oh well. Guess the best man won.”
“Best man?” Mrs. Morrison stared at him kind of strange. “So she told you about the date I fixed her up on with my brother’s best man for the wedding?” Before Tate could comment, she continued, “Then I’m surprised she didn’t tell you she backed out of the date?”
“She did?”
Mrs. Morrison nodded. “Yes.”
“She may have had another date. Was that two weeks ago Saturday?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “It wasn’t supposed to be a real date, although at the time I talked her into being his escort to the wedding, I silently hoped they would end up together. That was until. . .”
“Until what?” Tate glanced at Charity. She was talking with a couple students, but her eyes darted to them, almost as if she could sense they were talking about her.
“I kind of got the impression she was interested in somebody else.” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “By the way, we normally jog on Saturday mornings around eight. We start out at the south side of the park, near the tennis courts. Since I can’t run as much in my condition, it would be great for her to have a better running partner.” She rubbed her expanding belly. Tate had no idea how far along she was in her pregnancy, but she looked to be pretty far along.
“Hint taken.” For the first time in over a week, Tate smiled. “And Mrs. Morrison,” Tate said as he started to walk away. “Thank you.”
Saturday morning, Tate used a bench at the park to do stretches while he waited for Charity and Mrs. Morrison to show up. He’d worn his favorite Nike jogging shoes and shorts. Normally he liked to jog three to five miles. Today, he’d have to go easy on them, especially since Mrs. Morrison was pregnant.
He saw the two of them approaching in the distance and waved. His heart raced. Hopefully Charity didn’t mind his intrusion on their girl time. It sounded like Mrs. Morrison didn’t think it was a bad idea. After all, she’d suggested it in a round about manner.
“Hey, Mr. Stephens, great to see you,” Mrs. Morrison said. “Do you come here to jog often?” She winked at him.
“Uh, no.” Tate was at a loss for words. He tried to think of something intelligible to say. “I normally jog around my neighborhood and thought it might be nice to change the scenery a bit.” By that, he really meant he wanted to see Charity, but he wouldn’t come right out and tell her that was his reason for being there today. “Good morning, Charity.”
She nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything.
“Would you like to run with us?” Mrs. Morrison smiled sweetly, as she nudged Charity and nodded toward Tate.
Charity frowned at her friend, then turned to Tate. “Uh, yeah. Why don’t you jog with us?”
Tate laughed at Mrs. Morrison’s prompting and Charity’s lack of enthusiasm. “Well, if you both insist.”
“We do,” Mrs. Morrison quickly responded before Charity had a chance to say anything.
“Well, then, I insist that you both call me Tate since we’re not at school and don’t have to set any good examples for students.”
“And call me Mandi.”
Both of the women stretched. Tate noticed Charity’s muscular calves. She’d obviously been running for a while. He stopped himself when he realized his eyesight had started to roam further up her anatomy. It had been a long time since he’d thought twice about a woman physically. He needed to expel some energy, or run home and take a quick shower.
“Are you ladies ready to get started?” Tate didn’t mean for his tone to sound agitated. He forced a smile, hoping to mask his tension.
They nodded and smiled at each other which made him wonder if some kind of female mental telepathy transpired that he wasn’t aware of. He followed suit when they took off jogging, and settled on the other side of Mandi so that it wouldn’t look as obvious that he was trying to be near Charity.
“If you both are somehow plotting against me, I may have to separate the two of you.”
Charity and Mandi giggled like school girls. It concerned him when neither of them commented on his observation.
Their conversation flitted through girlie topics, including all the preparations for Mandi’s unborn child and their current top name picks. The discussion finally drifted to the school play which at least was of interest to Tate.
“When it gets closer to the play, if you need extra hands to hang lights or set up the set, we can enlist the help of detention students. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to do something as opposed to sitting in class with Mr. Steinberg.”
“He scares me,” Mandi said. “And I’m not even a student.
Tate smiled. “He scares a lot of people. That’s why he was the perfect candidate to monitor detention or in-school suspension. It’s a deterrent for kids to get in trouble because they dread having to sit in class with him.”
“Reverse psychology. I like that,” Charity said as she slowed her pace when they neared their starting point.
“Are you gal’s calling it quits already?” Tate asked. “We haven’t run but a little over a mile.”
Mandi rubbed her belly. “That’s about all this momma can take right now. I’m due in January and the doctor told me not to overdo it.”
“Sure you’re okay?” Charity looked from Mandi to Tate and back again. “Want me to go with you, Mandi?”
“No. I’m fine.” If Mandi was trying to be coy, her wink was a little too obvious. “You both go on and have fun without me.”
As Mandi headed to her car, Charity and Tate resumed their jog. “How long have you and Mandi been running together?”
“Since Christmas break last year.” Charity glanced at him. “Do you think we could pick up the pace a little?”
Tate laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Their brisk pace made it a little more difficult to keep up a conversation. He had started to wonder if pride kept her from relenting, until they�
��d jogged at least five miles and she showed no signs of slowing down. What was she, some kind of cyborg? Giving in now would be like allowing someone to clip the corner off of his man-card.
However, after another two miles and no wind left in his lungs for conversation, he finally slowly fizzled to a stop, panting for air. He remained hunched over, his hands resting on his thighs. Charity came to a stop as well, except a bit more gracefully.
“What are you, a marathon runner?” Tate gasped between breaths.
Charity conveniently covered her mouth with her hands, but he saw a twinkle in her eyes.
“You are, aren’t you?” Tate straightened.
“Not exactly.” Charity moved her hands to her hips. “I’m training for a half-marathon.”
“What’s a half-marathon,” Tate asked.
“Thirteen miles.” Charity giggled. If not for her gorgeous grin, he may have gotten very frustrated with her. “I don’t guess you would like to enter the race with me?”
“No!” Tate vehemently shook his head. “Running is out of the question—or at least more than five miles. Why don’t we try something different? I’ll even make a concession.”
Her look was skeptical. “Uh, huh. And what would that be?”
“You can wear your jogging clothes.”
Charity asked. “But we’re not running?”
“No, and it’s a surprise, so don’t ask me what we’re going to do.” Tate liked the thought of getting Charity out of her comfort zone and getting a little payback as well. “Since you go jogging on Saturdays with Mandi, how about I pick you up next Sunday morning? That’ll give me a chance to make the arrangements.”
Chapter Eight
“You have a date?” Mandi sounded more like one of her high school students than their teacher. Thankfully it was their lunch break, and they were the only two in Mandi’s classroom. You never knew who might pop in unexpectedly though.
“Shh.” Charity rolled her eyes. “Serious. You want someone to hear you?”
“Nobody’s in here, so relax.” Mandi smiled. “So, are you excited?”
Shrugging her shoulders, Charity took another bite of her sandwich and thought about it. “I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s a date or revenge. He did want to get even with me after he found out that I’m accustomed to running more than five miles in a stretch.”
“Perhaps I should have warned him.”
“What do you mean, warned him?” Charity eyed her suspiciously.
“Well…”
“Out with it,” Charity demanded in a playful tone. “If you don’t tell me I’m going to tickle you and then you’re bound to wet yourself given your condition.” Charity lifted her hands and wriggled her fingers, as if she meant to make good on her threat.
“All right. I give.” Mandi scooted her seat over a fraction, away from Charity, giggling the whole time. “I hinted to Tate that we would be jogging at the park Saturday morning, and he obviously took my hint.”
Charity dropped her hands to her lap and leaned back in her chair in a daze. “So you really think he likes me?”
“Oh, please.” Mandi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “The guy shows up ahead of time to jog with you, and have you seen the total personality change? I’ve had several students comment on how he’s actually nice now.”
A smile crept to Charity’s lips as she thought about Tate. “I’ve actually seen him smile lately.”
“Exactly, and you’re the one who’s put it there,” Mandi informed her. “Incidentally, don’t do anything to change that. We’re all enjoying the pleasant transition.”
“Ah.” Charity’s eyes widened. She playfully slapped Mandi’s arm. “It’s not like I did anything to put it there or would even want to do anything that would embitter him again.”
“Again?” It was Mandi’s turn to look curiously at her.
She shrugged. “We talked one day and realized we’ve both had bad experiences that may have soured both of us on dating.”
“But not each other?” Mandi wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Charity laughed. “I guess not.”
By Wednesday, Charity was getting antsy. What did Tate have planned for their outing? As soon as play practice ended, Charity managed to catch Tate before he left. “I wanted to ask you about Sunday.”
“It comes after Saturday.”
Charity smiled. “You’re not going to make this easy on me are you?”
“I’ll tell you what.” Tate stood close enough for Charity to see tiny gold flecks in his eyes and smell his musk aftershave. “If you have dinner with me tonight, I’ll give you a hint about Sunday.”
He smelled delicious. Charity didn’t trust her own voice. If she said anything, it would probably come out in a squeak. She swallowed the lump of desire in her throat and nodded. How long had it been since she’d yearned for a man’s touch? She moistened her lips, wondering what his kisses would taste like. He leaned closer. Her heart raced.
“Mr. S—whoa, sorry dude.”
Tate and Charity both turned, instinctively stepping away from each other. Charity felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It was little comfort that Tucker’s face was slightly red.
Tate quickly regained his composure, the playful twinkle replaced with a hint of irritation, evident by the scowl on his face. “Did you need something?”
“Matthias and I were supposed to study together tonight, but my dad just texted me. My step-mom just had her baby and I’ve got to go up to the hospital,” Tucker said. “Could you take him home for me?”
“Sure.” Tate sighed. “Go visit your new sibling. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mr. Stephens.” Tucker nodded toward Charity. “Good night, Miss Fletcher.”
She waved. “Good night, Tucker.”
They were alone again. She glanced around Tate and saw Tucker wave to Matthias on his way out of the auditorium.
Tate leaned to the side, obstructing her view. “Now, let’s get back to us.”
“Your nephew is waiting.” Charity pointed, which was unintentionally more at Tate, than the actual direction of his nephew. At least Matthias had taken a seat and wasn’t right behind them. But if she didn’t do something, he might take another shot at the kiss she was almost sure he was going to give her. Not that she didn’t want the kiss—she did. Right now she couldn’t think straight with him standing so close. She needed to have a clear head to reason things out and to make sure she was ready to assume the risk that came along with it if their potential relationship didn’t work out. They worked together, and with him being her boss, it could quickly become a sticky situation.
A frown slowly replaced his playful smile. “You’re having second thoughts. I can see it all over your face.”
She closed her eyes, lowered her head and expelled a deep breath. Tate lifted her chin to face him. She opened her eyes. “I…” What could she say?
Tate kissed her forehead and she smiled. Of all the reactions he might have, she hadn’t expected that.
“I know this isn’t easy.” His voice was soft and comforting. “We both have a lot from our pasts to overcome, but I think it is worth trying. Whatever this is between us, we deserve a chance at happiness; and the thought of being with you makes me very happy.”
Charity couldn’t help the stray tear that trickled down her cheek. His words touched her, yet she was speechless. She closed her eyes a moment and nodded.
Tate gently caressed her cheek in his palm, his thumb stroking her face to wipe away the telltale tear. “Why don’t you go home and take a nice, relaxing bubble bath,” Tate suggested. “And I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”
He leaned forward. Air trapped in her lungs. She knew he was going to kiss her. Her mouth parted slightly. But instead of brushing his lips against hers, he lightly kissed her cheek.
“Don’t think I’m letting you get out of our date Sunday either.” Tate winked at her, turned and walked away.
Charity and Tate spen
t the rest of the week being cordial to each other. Since Tate settled her dilemma concerning their date, she didn’t want to broach the subject again. Truth was, in her heart, she really wanted to go out with him. The anticipation of their date had only heightened her awareness of him. She’d awakened this morning with very vivid dreams from the night.
Thoughts of him were more rampant running through her mind than where he might take her on their date. If their date involved wearing jogging clothes, it couldn’t be very romantic. At least Tate had clarified that he had asked her out as more than just friends. He’d called it a date. She couldn’t keep the silly smile from her face all morning.
When Tate picked her up at her one bedroom apartment, he was also wearing jogging shorts. She probably should have skipped putting makeup on, but wanted to look her best. At least as good as one could look wearing running clothes. Hopefully they weren’t going to do anything that would make her perspire and her makeup smear. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Tate glanced at her, smiled, and focused his attention back on the road.
Twenty minutes later they were pulling onto a small airstrip. Now she really was curious. “We’re going on a small trip?”
Tate laughed. “Not exactly.”
“We’re going to jog around the airstrip?” Charity looked at him hesitantly, thinking to herself, please tell me he’s kidding, as her mind tried to conjure reasons they were there.
Roars of laughter exploded. A few weeks ago, she would never have dreamed he could laugh that hard or that loud. “All right all ready.” Tate parked near the hanger and turned in his seat to look at her. “My friend owns a skydiving school. I generally help as an instructor during the summer. One of the perks of school being closed, at least part of the summer.”
“So we’re going to jump out of a plane?”
Tate nodded.
“A perfectly good plane?” She wasn’t trying to make Tate laugh, but it happened. Perhaps he found it funny that she was being perfectly serious. “You can stop laughing now. It was a viable question.”
He kept chuckling and shaking his head. “Goodness, Charity. I haven’t laughed this hard in I don’t know when.” His expression sobered. A smile played on his lips and his eyes glistened. “Even if you don’t want to jump out of a perfectly good plane with me, I’m having a wonderful time just being with you.”
