by Nicole Dykes
They both laugh again and then Gloria states, “Well at least Nicholas is good looking. And like I said, you will get him trained eventually, Charlotte. Don’t worry we will help you get him all sorted out.”
I’m not interested in training my grown husband to do anything. Still, I sit here with a fake smile plastered on my face and they are none the wiser. Either because they genuinely don’t notice or simply don’t care.
After dinner with Gloria, Karen, and their husbands, Nicholas and I finally arrive back at our home.
I’m exhausted after the long day with those women and I imagine that Nicholas will disappear into his office shortly.
I unfasten the back of my diamond earrings and take them off, “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Nicholas surprises me when he moves to where I am standing in the living room and encompasses me in his arms, pulling me to him and whispering, “I’ll join you.”
I turn to face him, still wrapped in his arms, “You will? You don’t have work to do?”
He smiles, “Well, I always have work to complete. But I miss you, Charlotte. It’s been awhile.”
I nod my head in agreement. It’s been a really long while. He takes my hand in his and leads me up the stairs to our bedroom.
When we are inside, he sits on the bed to remove his shoes and I excuse myself to change into my sexiest lace nightie. After I change, I stare into the large mirror of my vanity and let my hair down.
So many thoughts are going through my head at this moment. The main one being my meeting with Jackson tomorrow. It’s literally the last thing I should be thinking about right now, but that’s where my mind has wandered to.
I feel almost giddy to be seeing Jackson again. There is just something about him, something mysterious. When I went to his house the other morning, he had seemed almost tortured in some way. I can’t describe it and I certainly can’t put my finger on it, but something tells me Jackson is full of secrets.
I’ve always had a curious nature. My parents repeatedly tried to shut down as a kid. I was usually lectured from the time I can remember for “worrying about things that had nothing to do with me”.
Eventually, I learned to simply wonder on the inside and never ask questions.
“Charlotte, honey, are you coming?”
I straighten my hair one last time in the mirror, apply a fresh layer of tinted lip-gloss and walk out into our room.
This is what should make you giddy Charlotte.
He’s already laying in the bed, mostly undressed and I walk around to my side, climbing in to join him.
He pulls me closer to him and kisses me softly, “You look beautiful, Charlotte.” He kisses me again. It’s gentle and it’s nice. Slowly he moves his body on top of mine and nibbles on my neck softly.
Please get in the mood, it’s been so long. You do want this.
Why can’t I stop my mind from racing?
I pull him up to me and kiss him again. This time I take the lead, trying like crazy to make myself be into this. I blame the over exposure to my so called “friends” today. They are totally draining.
He moves back down to kissing and nipping at my neck, “You know, Charlotte, I was thinking today.”
“About what?”
“I think it may be time for you to go off of the pill.”
Wait, what did he just say? “What, stop birth control?”
This is the man that insists on still wearing a condom. Even though I’ve been on the pill since we were married, just to make sure that I don’t get pregnant. He looks into my eyes, “Yes, we’ve been married for almost seven years Charlotte, don’t you think it’s time we start a family?”
“I didn’t think you wanted a family. This is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it.”
He moves his lean body off of me and sits up, leaning back against the headboard, “Well, I’m mentioning it now. You’re twenty-seven, Charlotte, you’re not getting any younger and neither am I.”
I sit up next to him, feeling totally blindsided by all of this. He wants to have a baby? “Nicholas, I’m sorry, but you just caught me off guard.”
He folds his arms, now he looks furious, “Really Charlotte, we’ve been married for a while, you never saw this coming?”
“No, I didn’t. You never acted like you wanted a family before.” I place my hand on his arm to comfort him, “We can talk about it. I’m just confused. Did something change?”
“Well, it was mentioned that it might be good for us.”
“Mentioned, by who?”
He drops his arms, “We’ve been married for a while now, people are starting to worry that maybe something is wrong. That maybe we aren’t in love or have an unhappy marriage.”
I feel totally lost in this conversation, “What people?”
Nicholas turns his body to look at me, deadly serious, “Voters, Charlotte, who do you think? Our marriage has been wonderful. We were seen as a golden couple. But now that so many years have passed and we haven’t even started our family, it’s leaving them all wondering if maybe it was sham.”
“But it isn’t. We got married because we love each other.”
“I know that, but they don’t. You being pregnant, especially in an election year, it makes sense. It helps people relate to us.”
The look on my face has to be pure horror. Please tell me this is just a sick joke. “Nicholas, I can’t have a child with you purely for political gain, that’s no reason to have a child.”
He cups my face in his hand, “It wouldn’t just be for that reason, sweetheart. I love you and would love to start a family with you. I’m just saying that now would be a great time.”
For the first time in my marriage, I’m not sure if I trust what my husband is telling me. I’ve never questioned him before, but maybe I’ve been too naïve this entire time. Maybe nothing is like it seems.
His lips move back to my neck as he says, “We don’t have to decide anything tonight, Charlotte. Just think about it.”
As if I could think about anything else now. His hand moves up to the strap on my nightie. He can’t be serious.
I place my hand on top of his, halting his attempt to continue in our love making tonight.
“I’m sorry, I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to go to sleep.”
He looks slightly disappointed, but actually shrugs his shoulders, “Alright, honey, I’ll let you sleep.” With a kiss on my nose, he hops out of bed, “I hope you will really think about this with an open mind. It would be great for us.”
I have no words to say right now so I just nod my head before he leaves, closing our bedroom door behind him.
Did that really just happen?
Chapter 9
Jax
“Hey, shithead. Did you call Mr. Turner to let him know his bike is ready?”
Luke, who is currently working on a wicked paintjob on a Harley looks over at me, standing in the doorway, “I’ll do it when I finish this.”
“Alright, well he’s been calling every day this week. The fucker is chomping at the bit to have his bike. And he’s a VIP.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I walk into his garage and examine the bike he’s working on. The detailing is nothing short of incredible, the kid has talent. “Damn, this is one badass bike man.”
He’s wearing a smug look, beaming with pride. When he turns his head, I see that his neck is covered in hickeys, “Jesus, Luke, tell Hannah to stop hoovering your neck. I thought she was a nice girl.”
He moves to the other side of the bike, “Hell yeah, it’s the nice girls you gotta watch out for. And I’m not telling her to stop doing anything she’s been doing.”
“You two have been fucking like you’re going away to war. She’s just going back to Manhattan. It’s a two-hour drive.”
“I know that. We’ll be fine. I am not worried in the slightest.”
He really doesn’t seem to be, “So since she’s leaving in a few days, I’m assuming we
won’t be seeing much of you ‘til then, huh?”
“Nah, as soon as I finish this and of course call Mr. Turner, I’m out of here.”
We bump fists and I head back into my part of the massive shop and then bump into the other Monroe. “Well, good morning, Sunshine. Thanks for finally pulling your ass out of bed.” I smirk, “Fuck you, Dylan. I’m here. What else can you ask from me?”
He laughs, holding a cup of coffee, “We are truly blessed to have you here with your sparkling personality.”
“Damn straight.”
We both laugh at that and then I hear a meek voice from behind me, “Um, Jackson.”
I turn to face Charlotte, “Hey, you’re here earlier than I expected.”
She awkwardly plays with a strand of her hair, “Oh, yes, I know. I’m just really eager to get this going.”
Dylan is now standing right next to me, “Char…Mrs. Warner this is Dylan Monroe.”
Dylan reaches his hand out for her and she returns the handshake, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”
He grins at her formality. We don’t get a lot of people in here like Charlotte. It’s usually first name basis from the get go, but she’s so damn proper and classy. “It’s nice to meet you too, and please tell your husband hi for me.”
That motherfucker, why did he have to say that? Like he needed to remind me that she’s married. He saunters into his office and my focus is now solely on Charlotte, who looks a little less composed today.
Everything on the outside is all put together, but there is something else behind those beautiful, green eyes today. I clear my throat, “You wanna go into my office?”
She nods and I lead her to my office and see a couple of mechanics staring, drooling like dogs at the sight of Charlotte. I think she actually notices this because she’s on my heels, itching to get to my office. I give the guys a death glare and lean near Charlotte, “Sorry about that, they aren’t used to seeing pretty women this close.”
She blushes slightly and flashes that bright smile. When we are both inside of my office, I close the door behind me. Nothing out of the ordinary, we all close the door when consulting with clients.
I gesture to the chairs at my desk, “You can sit if you want.”
She glides over to one of the chairs and sits down. And as I sit on the other side of the desk in my chair I say, “Okay, so it’s like I said. The body is here at the garage and they are working on it right now.”
“Working on it?”
I don’t want to make her feel lost by using all of the technical terms and I don’t want to dumb it down too much because Charlotte is a smart woman. I never think this fucking hard when I’m explaining a job to a client, “Yeah, they are popping out all of the dents and sanding off the surface rust. Basically they are getting it ready to be painted.”
“Oh, okay. Great.”
“Yeah, so that’s why I called you in here for the next step. Which is picking out a color for your car.”
Normally we do this over email. But since her husband is such a pain in the ass, I decided to treat Charlotte to the same VIP treatment.
I pull up a program on the computer, that basically designs the car digitally, “Okay, so we can do any color you want. You name it and we can do it. But please, for the love of God, don’t choose pink.”
That gets a small laugh from her. I don’t know why, but for some reason I sensed she could use a laugh. I run my fingers through my short hair. Really, I fucking sensed that? What the hell is wrong with me lately?
“Okay, so absolutely no pink?”
I groan and then continue the joke, “Well, we can do it if that’s what you really want, but we will hate it.”
She giggles again, “Well, I certainly don’t want that. How do you feel about purple?”
I lean back in my chair, “Hmm…depends on the shade. Lavender, just fucking shoot me now. Dark royal purple or plum, we can probably work with.”
She’s grinning ear to ear now. Shit the sight of her smiling is even a fucking turn on like I’ve never experienced in my life. Fuck! I really should have asked her to do this through email. Charlotte would agree to that whether it’s what she wants or not, but her dickhead husband wouldn’t be pleased.
“A dark purple sounds really nice, it is my favorite color.”
I lean up and select some samples of dark purples to show her. Charlotte moves closer to the desk to see them better as I point them out. She points to a color labeled Purple Haze. “Oh," she sighs, "that one is beautiful.”
“Nice choice.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make you suicidal?”
I laugh, “No, I think it will actually be pretty badass when it’s finished.”
She tucks her honey blonde hair behind her ear, “Speaking of that, my husband said that it took his car around three months to be completed. Will it be that long for mine?”
“Well, maybe not quite that long. But we do like to really take our time and make sure it is exactly what you want. Everything is custom here and sometimes that takes longer.”
“Alright.”
“Why, were you hoping to have it soon?”
Oddly I want her to say no.
“No, I was just curious.”
Thank God. I know I need to keep my distance, but there is something about Charlotte. Everyone else sees a confident, beautiful woman, with everything in control, when I look at her I see a lost girl that may need rescuing.
Not that I’m a white knight. Although for her, I think I would try. As fucking crazy as that sounds.
I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me. I have known her for less than two weeks and I’m already talking about rescuing her.
“Okay so you have just one more choice to make about the paint. You can choose flat, which just means there is no real shine to it.”
Her nose scrunches at that.
“Okay, or there is a gloss coat that makes it, well glossy.”
She smiles at that, “That sounds good.”
I nod, “Or, we can add a little bit of a shimmer to it. So that when the sun hits it just right it, for lack of a manlier word, sparkles.”
Her eyes light up a little, “I like that one.”
“I thought you might.”
She smiles, “Have me all figured out?”
I shake my head and as I make the note on the pad of paper on my desk for the exact color to paint her Mustang, “I don’t think so. You’re a complex person, Charlotte Warner.”
She laughs at than and sits up a little straighter in her chair, her long legs crossed at the ankle, “No one’s ever called me complex before, I think most people assume that I’m simple.”
Who the fuck has called this woman simple? “Why would they think that?”
She gestures to herself, implying that her looks make people think she’s not an intelligent person. Which I suppose some people could assume if they have never spoken to her, “I don’t really give anyone any reason to think otherwise. I am a little simple, my life has been very typical.”
Keep your distance, Jax. End this conversation and walk the fuck away.
I sigh as I give in. She needs to talk and for some reason she is choosing me to confide in. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I was born and raised in The South to wealthy, upstanding citizens of the community. My life was full of boarding schools, beauty pageants, cotillions, and other country club events. All are very typical where I’m from.”
I grin. So she isn’t a model, but she was in beauty pageants. Her background explains the perfect posture and elegance, “Well that may be typical where you’re from, but here it makes you complex. And there’s more to you than all of that anyway I’m sure.”
“We just met, you can already tell that?”
I nod my head, “Yeah.”
“Thank you, that’s really nice to hear. I’m sorry that I burdened you with all of that.”
I shrug my shoulders, “We all need to get things off our chest
from time to time.”
She smooths her hair down, like she’s uncomfortable with the conversation we just had. “Well, thank you. So, what else do I need to decide today?”
Back to business. Probably a good idea. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? Just paint color?”
“Yeah, one step at a time. We get the color just right, and then we move on to the next thing. It won’t take long though. I think it will help to make the other decisions about the interior after you see the paint job.”
She stands and reaches her hand out for mine, “Okay, well thank you very much for your time. I guess you can just call me when you need me again.”
I stand also and take her hand in mine, locking eyes with her. Oh, what the hell, “Look, Charlotte, I’m here if you ever need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”
Her eyes have a hint of surprise in them. I’m sure she didn’t expect me to say that. I sure as hell didn’t expect me to say that, “It’s not your job to listen to my problems.”
Her hand is still in mine, our eyes trained on each other’s. “I’m a shitty listener. I mean really terrible, but if you need to vent, I’ll do my best.”
She laughs again at my humor, although it’s sort of true, “I appreciate that.”
Let go of her hand. I finally listen to my brain, screaming at me and I release her hand, “I’ll call ya as soon as it’s ready.”
She nods, pulls her purse on her shoulder and leaves, stopping to look back at me over her shoulder right before she walks out of my office.
I’ve always been a sucker for a girl in trouble.
Chapter 10
Charlotte
I pull at the hem of the black cocktail dress I’m wearing. It’s not short in length, but it’s ridden up slightly now that I’m sitting down at our table.
It’s our seventh wedding anniversary and we are at the country club at the party thrown for us, organized by Karen and Gloria.
It’s only been about a week since our conversation about starting a family. And it’s been nothing but my husband trying to convince me that it’s a good idea, followed by the cold shoulder when I don’t agree right away.
