by Jen Gilroy
“What have you been doing since breakfast?” He moved into the kitchen, homey in a way it had never been before, with Charlie’s laptop on the table, a stack of newspapers on a chair, and a teapot he’d forgotten he owned on the counter beside a mug of tea.
“Shadow and I have been very busy.” She snapped her fingers, and the dog sat with a look of adoration.
“Busy how?” He pulled Charlie close and dropped a kiss into her hair.
“When you came in, we stopped to play, but she helped me.” Charlie’s voice turned serious. “Do you remember asking if I’d written about the accident?”
“Yes.” He tensed and held her tighter.
“This morning I did.” She tilted her face to his. “I’m going back to work soon and I have to get ready. Not just physically, but intellectually, emotionally. Shadow lay across my feet, like she knew I needed her, and when I started typing, the words came out.” Pain flickered in the depths of her eyes, but it was a softer, more muted pain than before.
“Was it okay? At least as okay as it could be?” He held his breath.
She tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder. “It’s not writing I’ll ever send to Max, but you were right. It was something I needed to do.”
“Good for you.” Sean spoke around the sudden lump of emotion in his throat. The days of having her close like this were numbered.
“I owe you.” Her voice was husky.
“I didn’t do much.”
“Yes, you did, more than you know.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking, before I leave, why don’t we go away for a few days? I’ve heard about this great hotel in the White Mountains in New Hampshire. You can even bring dogs. Linnie said Ty can stay with them. My treat, to say thank you.”
“I…I…” The words stuck in his throat. “That’s great of you, but we’re real busy. It’s summer. I can’t just take off.”
“Oh, of course.” Her smile slipped away.
“Maybe some other time?” His belly knotted as his jaw locked tight.
“Sure, whatever.” She pushed the newspapers off the chair, sat and stared at the screensaver on her laptop, travel images in a swirl of color, which made his vision blur.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“No worries.” She glanced at the brown envelope he held. “What have you got there?”
“I found some old photos in Dad’s files.” Sean moved toward the table. “I thought you might want them.”
Charlie took the envelope and slid open the flap. “Want a cookie?” She pointed to a bag of Oreos on the counter beside the tea.
“No thanks.” He brushed cookie crumbs from her cheek. He must have imagined the look when he said he couldn’t go to that hotel with her. Maybe it hadn’t been important after all. “I’m not complaining, but you don’t look like you’re dressed to go Blueberry Jam.” He pulled out another kitchen chair and they sat side by side.
“I can get ready in five minutes.” Charlie bumped her chair closer to his.
That was one of the things Sean liked most about her. She always looked good but didn’t spend hours preening. “I can help you get out of that shirt real fast.” Getting her naked and moaning in his arms was one of his most favorite things.
“Priorities, Carmichael. I want to look at these pictures first.” Shadow moved to sit beside her, resting her chin on Charlie’s knee. “Later, Shadow and I have a surprise for you.” She put a finger to her lips. “No, you can’t tell Sean. It’s a surprise.”
“You know she can’t talk, right?” Charlie had taken over his dog, which should have been weird but instead was so sweet he got a funny feeling in his chest whenever he saw Charlie and Shadow together.
“She may not talk like we do, but she’s still an excellent communicator.” Charlie tipped the photos out of the envelope. Shots of the Gibbs cottage and his mom and hers as young girls, out on the lake in one of Carmichael’s canoes and in front of the old workshop with fishing rods.
Sean pointed to a black-and-white photo of a young woman with dark hair in an old-fashioned summer dress, who stood on the pebbled strip of beach at the end of the point. “This must be your great-grandmother, Elizabeth McKellar. Mom said she grew up here and met your great-grandfather, Hugh McKellar, over at the inn one summer. Elizabeth and Dad’s great-aunts worked as maids at the inn. Hugh came from Montreal on a fishing trip and swept Elizabeth off her feet. The story is she came back to visit decked out in diamonds and a fur coat. Riled a lot folks with her nose in the air. Some of her old friends never spoke to her again.”
“Ouch.” But Charlie’s voice was soft, and her eyes glistened. “Mia looks like her.”
“Your family has deep roots in this place. Like mine. Elizabeth McKellar might have gotten uppity, but she was still Old Vermont.”
Charlie cradled the photo between gentle fingers, and an unfamiliar expression flitted across her face. Tender, sweet, vulnerable, and sad. All those things she never showed to the world or even much to him.
“Mom never told Mia and me much about her family.” Her voice was wistful. “I have this whole history I know nothing about and now that Mom’s gone I can’t ask her.”
“Maybe my mom…”
Charlie’s head jerked. “No.” Her voice was fierce.
“Mom loved your mom and someday…” He stopped. Someday couldn’t happen without trust and time and all the other things they didn’t have.
“Have you talked to Mia today?” Sean leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath.
“Of course. I talk to her every day.” Charlie’s face went tight and she set the photo aside. “Tat Chee made us a new offer, but I said I wasn’t ready to accept it. I need to give Jason more time. I have to believe there’s another option for the cottage, but Mia, she’s…We don’t have a lot of time.” She put a hand to her face.
Sean swallowed. What she said, as much as what she didn’t say, showed him how her love for the cottage and her love for her sister were tearing her apart.
“Since both of us have to agree to sell the place, we’ve hired a company from town to shore up what’s left of the porch and make the cottage safe. Nick’s helping because Jay’s working on some big deals. Or so he says. I wanted to help, but Mia won’t hear of it.”
He touched the curve of her cheek and, for a moment, let himself imagine the cottage wasn’t between them. That whatever was going on with Mia and her husband wasn’t happening, and Charlie wasn’t going back to her real life. And most of all, that he could trust her to tell him the truth. “Mia won’t let you help because you’re staying with me?”
“No.” Charlie hesitated, and the pain in her brown eyes ripped him apart. “It’s me. Mia thinks if I don’t see the cottage, it’ll be easier for me to let it go.”
“Will it?” There was a rasp in his voice he hated.
“Maybe…I don’t know.” Charlie pulled away from his touch and fisted a hand to her mouth.
“You and Mia are a lot alike.” This time he made sure to keep his tone neutral.
“We’re not.” Charlie moved her chair. It scraped along the floor, making Shadow yelp.
“You are.” He studied the little flecks of gold in her eyes. She was so beautiful she made his heart ache. “I think Mia’s shy and vulnerable even though she hides who she really is, what she really feels, behind those fancy clothes and makeup. Like you hide by pretending you’re as tough as old boots.”
“You think so, Dr. Carmichael?” Charlie gave a tinny laugh.
“Beyond what’s on the surface, underneath, the two of you are cut from the same cloth. Both of you are set on doing things your way, by yourself.”
She stuck her chin out. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“When did you last ask anyone for help?” He gave her a level look.
Shadow edged between them, and Charlie fiddled with the dog’s tags. “I don’t remember. Mia and I have gotten closer this summer than we’ve been in years, but…”
&nb
sp; “All I’m saying is, don’t shut people out.” Especially not him. The words he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.
Charlie shuffled through the photos and gave him a sunny smile. “Here’s one of us.” She changed the subject like she always did when anyone got too close or tried to make her talk about things she didn’t want to talk about. “How old were we? Thirteen?”
Sean found his glasses in the pocket of his black Carmichael’s polo shirt and slid them on for a closer look. “You were still twelve. I was thirteen.”
The picture brought the day back to him with perfect clarity. It was a Saturday in June and he hadn’t seen Charlie since the previous September. When she turned up at the marina to surprise him, he’d been blindsided by a girl who’d begun to sprout breasts and curvy hips. A Charlie who was and wasn’t the girl he’d always treated a bit like one of the guys.
“I remember.” Her voice got low and husky. “You were my friend who’d turned into a cute guy. Your mom took this picture to mark how much we’d grown, like we were two of her tomato plants.”
“And you were my friend who’d turned into a pretty girl. I didn’t know how to act around you or how to talk to you even.” The moment he’d set eyes on her, his body had stirred in that new way; his jeans had gotten tight, and he was afraid she’d notice. “You were what my grandpa called citified.”
“Maybe on the outside, but I never was on the inside.” Her eyes sharpened as understanding dawned. “After we moved from Montreal, you never came to Boston to visit me. My dad, your family—”
“Not only because of them.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter when it mattered a hell of a lot. “I never fit in cities. Not even when I was grown up. Sarah and I and Ty lived in New York City for two years.”
“Really? Why?” She eased Shadow away and moved to sit on his lap. His baseball shirt rode up to give him a glimpse of silky peach panties the same color as her skin, and his body hardened like it had when he was thirteen.
He wrapped her fingers around his. “I wanted to make something of myself. I did the first two years of my business degree part-time at night school, but it took so long, I went full-time the last two years. Nobody in my family had ever gone to college, but everyone pitched in to help with Carmichael’s so I could.”
“I always knew you were smart. Those glasses make you look pretty smart too. And hot.” Charlie wiggled on his thighs, and his body jumped. The tease knew exactly what she was doing to him.
He arched into her. “Sarah loved the city. She wanted to stay there and for me to work for a bank or some big company. A suit-and-tie job, big-house-in-the-suburbs, fancy-parties kind of job.”
“What happened?” Charlie stilled.
“That life wasn’t for me. Sarah never forgave me for not doing what she wanted, for not being the man she wanted.”
She flinched. “But if you loved each other, you had Ty and—”
“We didn’t love each other enough.” He slid a hand under her shirt and ran it along her spine.
“You and I didn’t love each other enough either.” Her breath came in little puffs.
“Maybe not back then.” He slid his hand out from under the shirt to cup her face.
“Sean—”
“No, I let you down and I was too stubborn to come after you when I should have. Then I got involved with Sarah because you didn’t want me and she did.” His breathing sped up. “I thought if I tried hard enough I could forget you. I wronged her, but you and me, we have another chance and—”
“Don’t say it.”
The hoarseness in her voice almost undid him, but if he didn’t tell her the truth now, maybe he never would. And he’d always regret it. “I have to. I love you. I did back then, I still do, and I always will.”
“I love you too.” The words burst out of her on a strangled cry. She trailed kisses across his cheek, hot and desperate, like she wanted to memorize the taste and feel of him. “I’ve always loved you, way back from when I was a little girl.”
But was that love enough? As Sean kissed Charlie back, pliant and responsive in his arms, he pushed the doubts away.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie tucked her hand into Sean’s, and happiness fizzed inside her like soda pop. When they stopped by one of the white tents that ringed the town fairground, she inhaled the smells of popcorn and candy floss, cooking oil and fries.
Of course he couldn’t take a trip with her. She should have remembered summer was Carmichael’s busiest time. Maybe he could come to England to see her this winter. With more frequent flier miles than she knew what to do with, they could travel anywhere they wanted from London. Or meet in Texas or Florida at New Year’s, after she visited Mia and the girls for Christmas.
“Are you ready for your surprise?” she asked, excitement tempered by the memory of Mia’s face when she’d seen her earlier. The lines of strain around her sister’s mouth, how she’d avoided talking about Jay, why he was at work instead of here when his wife and family needed him. And what that meant for all of them.
“You already gave me a surprise today.” Half hidden by the tent flap, Sean’s fingers grazed the underside of her breasts. “Lots of surprises.”
“Not that kind of surprise.” Charlie bounced on her toes and evaded his sinful fingers. She wouldn’t think about Mia and Jay. Or worry about things that might never happen. “I meant the surprise from Shadow and me.”
“How did my dog fix a surprise?” He held her hand again, safe and all hers.
“You’ll see.” She drew him into the crowded tent, past a white-draped table with vases of pink and white hollyhocks, yellow daisies, and orange daylilies. Past another table with shiny carrots lined up in regimented rows.
Following the directions Linnie had texted, Charlie spotted the photography section near the back. She scanned the display until she found pets. She squeezed through the crush of people and tugged Sean after her.
“How did you get that picture?” His expression shifted from puzzled to surprised, and then pleased, as he looked at the framed black-and-white photo of Shadow with the first-place red ribbon beside it. “She never poses for me.” The dog sat in one of Carmichael’s canoes, ears cocked and a look of lively intelligence in her dark eyes.
“Dog treats.” Charlie tucked her arm through his. “Not the store-bought kind. Linnie found this recipe made with peanut butter, which Shadow loved. It took a lot of tries and a lot of treats to get her to stay still, but we managed in the end.”
“It looks like a picture you’d see in an art gallery.” Sean still studied the picture. “The craft gallery on Main Street has photos like this.”
“I took the picture in color and used photo editing software. It’s easy. I can show you if you want.” Charlie let go of Sean’s arm. The words had come out before she thought. Words that made it sound like she was a real part of his life, like she planned to stick around.
“You won a red ribbon at Blueberry Jam. Will you post that on Twitter and Facebook?” The love in his voice and intimacy in his smile warmed all the lonely places in her heart.
“I might.” Or she might not. The ribbon was special in a way she didn’t want to share with the world.
“Thanks, Charlie. You and Shadow gave me a fantastic surprise. Linnie too.” Sean hugged her and grazed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. She breathed in his clean, masculine scent. “I’m going to hang this picture somewhere I’ll see every day. I’ll tell everyone you took it.”
“Not in your bedroom, then?” Charlie joked.
“No.” His smile was pure sex. “I could take a picture of you for my bedroom.” He winked. “One of you in those shoes and—”
“Stop it.” Charlie pushed at his arm. “We’re in public.”
“I can fix that if you want.” His blue eyes twinkled with provocative intent. “All you have to do is say the word, Sunshine.”
“Even I need some recovery time.” She loved that she could tease him, and loved ho
w comfortable they were with each other. “Want to look around the fair some more? Find Mia and the girls and get something to eat before checking out the haunted house?”
“The haunted house, huh?” Sean traced the outline of her mouth. “I still haven’t forgotten what you did to me the last time you wanted us to check out the haunted house.”
“All you have to do is say the word, Carmichael.” Charlie laughed and looped an arm around his waist. “We missed lunch. That popcorn smell reminds me I’m hungry.”
“Hungry for what?” He pulled her into him.
“Food, of course.” She held back a laugh.
“Whose fault is that, my insatiable investigative reporter?” He tickled her ribs. “But what the lady wants, the lady gets. What do you say we get some food for you to nibble off me?”
“I’d say you…oh…” Charlie’s laugh died in her throat and she jerked away as the scent of hot buttered popcorn was overlaid with a floral perfume.
“Sean?” Ellen Carmichael stood in front of a photo of an Irish setter with a ball, Linnie and Trevor on either side of her. “Charlie?” Sean’s mother looked between them.
“Mom.” Sean bent to kiss Ellen’s cheek.
“Hello, Ellen.” Charlie forced a smile, her jaw tight. “Linnie, Trevor.”
Sean’s twin inclined his head and looked at the picture of Shadow.
Linnie hugged Charlie. “Charlie took that photo. Isn’t it great?”
“Good job.” Trevor’s voice was gruff, but he glanced at Sean and managed what passed for a smile.
Ellen’s sharp blue eyes studied Charlie. “Beatrice always said Charlie had a special gift for taking pictures.”
“She did?” Charlie’s heart skipped a beat.
“Your mother was real proud of you.” Ellen’s eyes softened. “Up there in heaven, I reckon she’s still proud of you, looking down and smiling.”
“Thank you.” Emotion clogged Charlie’s throat.
