by Vivian Wood
Desperate to stem the flow of tears, I look at Charlie for permission to read to her. Our exchange is wordless, just a series of glances. Finally as Sarah works herself up into a full on tantrum, he rolls his eyes.
“Alright. You can come read to her. Hear that, Sarah?” he says.
Great. I am eye-roll worthy.
Sarah quiets, but her tears don’t stop. I scoop her up, my heart fluttering at the way that she settles down against my shoulder.
I follow Charlie, who trudges up his steps and unlocks the door. He leads me into the living room, gesturing to the couch.
“Sit her down there,” he instructs. “I’ll get her blanket from the car.”
I move to sit Sarah down on the hideous floral couch. “Your dad is getting your blanket. How about you pick a pillow? Is this one okay?”
I pull out one of the decorative cushions and lay it down. Sarah lays her head down. “Read?”
“Definitely.” I sit on the floor next to the couch, opening the book. I start to read. “Once when I was six…”
I read the whole page very slowly. I point to the boa constrictor, about to swallow its prey. “It looks like the snake is about to eat the purple creature. What kind of creature do you think that is?”
Sarah wrinkles her nose. “Cat.”
“It could be a cat,” I say. “Or some kind of… I don’t know, mongoose or something.”
Charlie comes back in, unfurling a pink fleece blanket and tucking it around Sarah. “Here you go.”
He sits on the end of the couch. I clear my throat and turn the page. I read on, quietly. “They answered…”
As I read, I can see Sarah’s eyes getting heavy. I smother my smirk, reading about the Little Prince’s adventures.
I’m conscious of Charlie watching me. I’ll admit, the feeling of being watched by him makes my heart speed up. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the pages of the book, but I manage it. Sarah reaches out an arm, snaking it around my forearm.
My heart squeezes hard, and I get a little lump in my throat. I glance at Charlie, but he is looking off in the distance, his expression unreadable.
She closes her eyes, but I read for a while anyway. I just want to make sure that she’s asleep. I feel Charlie’s eyes on me again, and I slow my words. When I look up at him, I am entranced by his eyes, as green as a pair of emeralds.
“I think you can stop,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He hesitates, then says, “I think I’m going to have a drink on the porch. Do you want to join me?”
I swallow and nod. “Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll go grab drinks.” He gets up and heads to the kitchen.
I tuck The Little Prince into Sarah’s grasp, unentwining her hold on my arm. I gently put her arm over her sleeping body, and then tiptoe out of the room.
I settle down on the front porch steps, looking at the sun setting over the whole town square. Soon Charlie joins me, taking a seat next to me. He’s closer than I expected, his leg and arm brushing mine every few seconds.
I sneak a look at him, wondering if he notices. If he does, he makes no indication. He hands me a tumbler of whiskey with a couple ice cubes.
“Cheers,” I say, holding my glass aloft.
He narrows his gaze for a moment, then clinks his glass against mine. I take a sip, making a face as the honey-sweet whiskey burns down my throat.
“Jeez,” I say. “It might be a little early for whiskey for me.”
Charlie chuckles. “That’s fair. I just… it’s been a week for me.”
I set my glass down, pulling my hair over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He sips the whiskey. “My mother in law is… she’s really something else.”
“How so?” I ask, cocking my head.
“Last Thursday was our anniversary. Me and Britta, I mean. So I took Sarah to visit Helen. Helen just harped on every little thing. She was really critical of me, of my moving to Pacific Pines. And she was critical of Sarah, always correcting her. It really got to me.”
My eyes widen. “And you spent more than a day with her?”
He nods. “Yeah. She made this whole deal out of us visiting Britta’s grave, and then spent the rest of the time extolling the virtues of Seaside. She’s selling it really hard.”
I bite my lip. Are they planning on moving? That would be… I wouldn’t like it. “And are you buying?”
“Seaside?” He laughs. “Hell no. It’s only an hour from here. Besides, she keeps saying that if we lived in Seaside, we could live in one of her rental properties and she could just pop in. She said it no less than a dozen times. She’s a controlling person, and I could see her trying to control Sarah already. No fucking thanks.”
“Ah.” I nod, relieved. “Sounds like you earned that drink, then.”
He looks amused. “I think so.”
Silence reigns for a few seconds, long enough for me to start getting antsy. Charlie just sips his whiskey, looking at the setting sun.
“I’m sorry about… I mean, I’m sure that observing the anniversary was hard.” I glance at him, and see a deep sadness flicker across his face.
He nods, his jaw clenched. “Yeah. It was.”
When I look at Charlie, I can’t help but see a wounded animal. If not a lion, then maybe a bird with an injured wing, struggling to fly.
And for the life of me, I want to be the one to rehabilitate him. Take him home in a shoebox, feed him, let him rest his wing.
I want to be the one he turns to for solace.
It’s dumb, I know. I’m not some lovesick teen. I’m a lonely librarian with her own problems.
But that doesn’t stop my heart from wanting him.
I take a deep breath and look down, willing myself to remain quiet.
Chapter Eleven
Charlie
I’m getting out of my car at my apartment, having just dropped off Sarah with Rosa for the day. Stepping out into the evening air, I squint.
It’s not that I want to look for Larkin. I swear that I don’t. But my eyes automatically search for her car, a little red Honda. When I spot it, I know that she’s home.
Leave her alone, I scold myself. You will ruin that girl. She deserves a lot better than what you have to offer. Which is basically nothing.
So I distract myself for a couple of hours. I go for a long run. I clean the house. I attempt to read the Wall Street Journal, though I get can’t even through the first section without looking wonderingly at the wall I share with Larkin.
Eventually I shower and get dressed, already knowing in the back of my head that I am going to knock on Larkin’s door. It feels sort of inevitable.
When I do knock, she immediately pulls the door open, and then looks surprised to see me. She also looks incredible, wearing a short baby pink dress. My eyes nearly bug out when I see the cleavage she’s got on display. Judging only by her dress, she’s going out.
“Oh! Hey!” she says.
She was expecting someone else. I wish that knowledge didn’t make the pit of my stomach sour, but it does. I cover my moment of jealousy, cracking a joke. “You were hoping for Brad Pitt?”
“What? Oh, no.” She smiles. “Where is Sarah?”
“She’s spending the night with my dad and Rosa.”
“Oooh, that’s pretty big. Are you looking for something to do? Because a big group of people our age are all going out to Stella.”
I arch a brow, crossing my arms. “What’s Stella?”
“It’s the only bar worth going to before you get to Tillamook. On Saturday nights, it’s hip.” She grins. “You should come!”
“Ah. I don’t think so,” I say, backing up a couple of steps. I rub the back of my neck.
“Yes! You need to meet some people,” she insists. “Come on, when is the last time you went out?”
I pause, thinking. It’s a little embarrassing that I have to calculate at all. “Uhhh… I honestly don’t know.”
“You should come,” she says firmly. “I’
m about to walk over there right now.”
“Yeah…” I say uncertainly, intending to end the statement with maybe another time. But Larkin totally lights up when she thinks she’s won me over.
And I’m just the biggest sucker for dazzling grins, especially on someone like Larkin. I shut my mouth, not disclosing my original intent.
“This is going to be great!” she crows. “Just let me grab my sweater.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of my hooded sweatshirt, repressing a sigh. Larkin is inside for a split second, and then she emerges, putting on a white cardigan.
Stella turns out to be just a few blocks from the other side of town. It’s a plain-looking building painted all black. I can hear the Black Keys playing from outside.
Larkin leads me in through the swinging metal double doors. The place is packed, tons of people in their late twenties and early thirties milling around. There are big booths on one side, and a long wooden bar on the other, people lined up and waiting for drinks.
“Oh, there are some of my friends,” Larkin says, pointing to the corner. “Come on.”
She reaches her hand out to me, not even looking at me, expecting me to grab it. I waver for a second, then take it. Her hand seems so small next to mine, her fingers almost disappearing beneath my grip.
We weave through the crowd, going to the far corner. As we get close, I can see about ten people jammed into the corner booth, an even mix of guys and girls.
We get to the table, and Larkin drops my hand. I’m almost a little sorry for it, not that I really expected her to hold my hand all night.
Stop it! I rebuke myself again. Just… stop.
“Heyyyyy!” Larkin says, hugging a pretty, dark-skinned girl who noticed us. “Everyone, hey! Um, this is Charlie, my tenant. Charlie, this is Lisa, Jack, Anne-Marie, Seelah, Rick, Jared, Brooke, Mason, Jackson, and Karen.”
I squint at them. Other than Lisa, the dark-skinned one that Larkin hugged, and Seelah, who is some kind of Middle Eastern ethnicity, they all look the same.
“There’ll be a pop quiz later on that,” one guy says, refreshing his drink from a pitcher in the middle of the table. “I hope you’re a quick study.”
The group laughs. Why did I come here again? I wonder.
“Here, we can grab a couple of chairs and pull them up,” Lisa says with a wink.
“And please get in on this pitcher,” one of the girls urges. “Here are some plastic cups.”
I accept a couple red plastic cups while Larkin pulls a couple of chairs up. I grab the pitcher and fill our cups a third of the way, passing one to Larkin.
“Thanks!” she says. “Cheers, everybody!”
I sit back and let Larkin chatter away, telling some story with her hands. Seeing her act social is a little like watching a rocket wind up and launch. I let the noise of the crowd wash over me; for a second I start to feel kind of claustrophobic.
“Hey,” Lisa says, smiling at me. “You’re new in town, I take it?”
I nod, sipping the beer. I don’t make a face, but it’s warm and cheap. “I just moved here about a month ago.”
“That’s cool,” she says, turning her body toward me. “You’re living on the other side of Larkin’s house?”
“That I am. How do you know each other?” I ask.
“Larkin and I went to high school together. I can’t believe she’s back here,” Lisa says. Her tone turns teasing. “I figured she would write a book and become a millionaire and never talk to any of us little people ever again.”
“Lucky us, I guess,” I say, taking another sip of beer. “I think I want something else to drink. I’m going to head to the bar.”
“Oooh! I’ll come with you!” Lisa says. “I really want a tequila sunrise.”
I stand up. Lisa does too, threading her arm through mine and smiling up at me. I get the feeling that she’s doing some serious flirting, but I can’t really do anything about it.
I head to the bar, Lisa in tow. I stand in line for a drink, looking down on every single person here. Yep, I am easily the tallest one.
“You’re pretty quiet,” Lisa says, tugging on the string to my hoodie.
“Am I?” I say.
“Yeah,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Are you gonna give me the deets?”
“I’m sorry?” I ask, frowning down at her.
“Like, are you with Larkin?” she asks. “Or are you a free agent?”
I scoff. “I’m not with anybody. And I happen to like it that way.”
“Touchy, touchy!” she teases. “You can’t get mad. I’m just trying to get the lay of the land.”
“Uh huh,” is all I say. I get the attention of the bartender, and order a Bulleit bourbon and a tequila sunrise.
I glance back at the far corner while I wait for my drinks. Larkin has moved out of the chair and into the booth, to sit next to Jack. She’s talking animatedly to him. He slips his arm around her, pretending to stretch out.
Fuck. That should be me. I should be the one she’s talking to, that she’s grinning at like that.
No, I remind myself. You know better.
I turn back to the bar. “Hey, bartender! You’d better make that a triple.”
“Oooh, mine too!” Lisa says, leaning against the bar.
When the bartender brings our drinks over, Lisa clinks her plastic cup against mine. “Here’s to our first drink together.”
I frown, but drink a little anyway. Then I think about the fact that Larkin might go home with Jack. Or worse, she might bring him home to her house.
Yeah, I’m going to need a lot of whiskey to get through tonight.
I pour all of my drink down my throat, wincing a little as it burns in my chest. I order another right away.
“Damn. Ever heard of taking it slow?” Lisa asks. “I mean, I’m not judging, but I think you’re too big to be carried out of here at the end of the night.”
I smirk. “That’s assuming that I want to be here for more than an hour, which I don’t.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Let’s go back to the table as soon as I get my drink,” I suggest. “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the company of your friends for too long.”
She gives me an uncertain look. I could care less, which means that the whiskey is already working. I get my drink and drop some cash on the bar, then turn around and head back to the corner booth.
I sit in the same chair. Lisa makes her friends scoot over so that she can still sit in the booth with them. Larkin turns to me. “Having fun?”
“I needed to get a real drink,” I say with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not the one who is having fun.”
“No?” she asks, making a pouty face.
“No, I would say that would be you and Jack.” I sip my drink.
Larkin flushes. “Jack? No, I was just telling him a story.”
“He has his arm around you,” I point out with a nod of my head. “I don’t think he feels the way you do.”
She turns her head a little, and sees that I’m right. I take a big gulp of my drink and enjoy watching her squirm a little bit.
“You know what? I have to use the restroom,” Larkin says. “Excuse me.”
She has to slide by me, her entire body almost touching mine. For the first time, I don’t mind. In fact, if we were alone, I would pull her against my body.
I would explore her pouty little mouth, run my hands through her perfect blonde tresses.
I look behind me, to the hallway where Larkin is disappearing. In a split second, I stand up and put my cup on the table. I don’t know what exactly makes me do it, but suddenly I am following Larkin.
I have to wait for a second, because some girl bends down right in front of me to fuss with her shoe. By the time I hit that darkened back hallway, there’s no one in sight. I walk by the men’s restroom, then spot the second flimsy door marked Women. I’m aware suddenly that my heart is racing.
I take a deep breath, taking a step
toward the door. It opens before I get to it, a confused-looking Larkin coming out.
She looks up at me, a frown tugging down her mouth. “Are you still hung up on that Jack thing? Because I think—”
I growl, reaching out and grabbing her by the waist. All my thoughts are in a jumble; all I know for sure is the fact that I need to feel her lips against my own.
I push her hair back and cup her chin, looking down into her heart shaped face. She stares up at me, so many emotions flitting through her eyes. I’m at a loss to name them all, but I sense lust and hesitation in equal parts.
I rub my thumb along her perfectly pink lips, watching her carefully. Her eyes close halfway, and the hesitation I saw is replaced with longing. Her lips part, more than ready for me.
I lean down, crushing her lips under mine. Yes, a voice says in my head. Fuck yes. You want this. Need this.
Larkin is salty and sweet, burnt caramel and black molasses. I groan into her mouth. I’ve never wanted anything the way that I want her.
She wraps her hands around the nape of my neck, making me hungrier than ever. She’s so small, so fragile; I pick her up and spin her around, so that her back hits the wall.
She nips my bottom lip with her teeth. I growl and take control of the kiss, my tongue invading her mouth, sweeping in rhythmic strokes. I step forward, pressing my big body up against her small one.
I feel her breasts crushed against my torso, her hipbones touching my thighs. I grow hard at the warmth of her, at her taste, at her smell. Just for a second, I push my denim-clad cock against her stomach.
She makes a noise low in the back of her throat. Maybe she’s imagining what it would be like to free my dick from my pants. Or maybe she’s imagining how it would feel to be under me, with no barriers between us.
I nip her bottom lip, and I’m rewarded by feeling her nails against the bare skin of my neck. I get the feeling that she’s a wildcat in bed, scratching and clawing and trying to roar.
I break our kiss, moving my lips down to her neck. I have a one track mind, and I’m able to shut out the people around us, the loud noise of the bar. Larkin can’t, though.
I feel her hands on my chest, pushing me back. Her voice is breathless. “I think— Charlie, I think we have to stop.”
