Unrefined (Monroe Series Book 3)

by Nicole Dykes

  That’s a little dramatic. “It’s not. She was upset and needed a friend, but nothing else happened. And no one else needs to know about this, Luke.”

  “If nothing happened, then why do you care if anyone knows?”

  Little shit. “Because I don’t need everyone assuming there is something going on, Luke. I’ve always had your back. Return the fucking favor and trust me.”

  He looks conflicted and I don’t like asking him to lie to his brother, but if Dylan finds out he will blow it way out of proportion. “Fine. Just end it.”

  “There’s nothing to end.”

  He rolls his eyes and turns himself around walking down the hall.

  There’s nothing to end. Right?

  Chapter 17

  Charlotte

  I unlock the front door of my house and punch in the code for the alarm. I haven’t called Nicholas back after missing his phone call at Jackson’s garage.

  I can’t believe I drove there.

  I also can’t believe I left.

  What women would leave a man like Jackson? He was so sweet tonight. Giving me a shoulder to cry on and is the only person currently in my life not pushing me to do whatever pleases my husband. Including having a baby to promote his perfect image of the perfect, All American family.

  God, he smelled good and felt so good against my body.

  I allowed us to sit way too close on that sofa in the lounge. I don’t know what I was thinking, going there and discussing my personal life with him.

  My mind drifts to the moment right before we were interrupted by my cell phone. It felt like my reality was on pause and it was just Jackson and I in that moment.

  What would have happened if my phone hadn’t rung?

  Perhaps it was a blessing that Nicholas had called at that exact moment.

  Right, Nicholas. My husband. I suppose I should call him back.

  I walk up the stairs of the empty house and change for bed, before tucking myself in.

  I hold my cell phone in my hand and stare at it for far too long before dialing Nicholas’s number, actually expecting it to go to voicemail because it is late.

  “Charlotte.”

  “Nicholas, I’m sorry that I missed your call.”

  “Where were you? I called the house twice and no one answered. Karen told me that you were quite upset when you left the country club over two hours ago.”

  He asked Karen what time I left the club? Is he having me followed too?

  I hope not. “You spoke to Karen?”

  “Of course. I was curious how dinner went.”

  “You mean you wanted to see if she could change my mind?”

  He sighs, “Charlotte, it’s late. I didn’t call you to fight. I called to let you know that I arrived in D.C. safely.” He continues, not waiting for me to say anything. “Not that you cared, since you didn’t bother to answer the phone.”

  “I’m glad you made it there safely.”

  “You never answered my question. Where were you?”

  My heart is racing. I can’t tell him I was with Jackson. Even if my husband has a fondness for him, he surely wouldn’t be happy about me spending time with him after hours with no one around. And especially since we weren’t talking about the car. “I was upset after my conversation with Karen, so I drove around.”

  “For that long?”

  I’m a terrible liar. I hate liars.

  I also don’t want Jackson to get in any sort of trouble because of me, “I came home and took a long bath to try to soak the stress away. I only just checked the messages.”

  “Well, there wouldn’t be any stress, if you would just agree to a having a baby.”

  He isn’t going to give this up, “I thought you didn’t want to fight?”

  “I don’t. I want you to start acting like the woman I married again, Charlotte. I can’t for the life of me figure out what has changed.”

  Jackson crosses my mind at that moment. We haven’t been friends long, but somehow he has made me braver.

  I would like to think that I would have disagreed with Nicholas on this subject no matter what, but Jackson has definitely kept me strong during this.

  “I’m tired, Nicholas. I think I’m going to go to sleep. I’m glad that you had a safe trip.”

  He clears his throat, probably frustrated with me dismissing him for a change. “I may be gone all week. What will you do to keep you busy while I’m gone?”

  Like he keeps me busy when he’s home?

  “I’m sure I will manage.”

  “Well I will have Karen check in on you periodically.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He scoffs at that, “Charlotte, don’t argue with me. It’s unbecoming.”

  How have I let this treatment go on for so long? “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll call when I can, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  There is no ‘I love you’, just silence when he hangs up the phone.

  The next morning, I wake up and I’m actually slow to get ready for the day. Which, is quite strange for me. I’m an early riser and I’m not usually someone who lounges around in the morning before getting dressed.

  Today, I’m oddly relaxed.

  Instead of taking a shower, I slip my robe on and I walk down the winding stairs and into the kitchen. I greet Sarah, our housekeeper, who has prepared breakfast.

  After I thank her, she excuses herself and I sit down at the table to eat my breakfast. I wonder what I should do today. I honestly have no idea, but I do know that I don’t want to spend it with Karen or Gloria.

  When I am finished slowly eating my breakfast, I decide to go to the City Market in downtown Kansas City. I’ve never actually been there, but I have read about it in the local paper. It’s just an outside market, with several booths for home grown foods and homemade crafts.

  Honestly I haven’t been out of the suburbs, other than the Plaza and it sounds adventurous. I know, pathetic, but baby steps.

  I excitedly hop up the stairs and shower. It’s still a little chilly outside since it’s the end of January in Kansas, but it’s actually sunny and dry. Today’s temperature is actually supposed to be quite warm for winter, according to the weather app on my phone.

  I look through my closet, trying to pick out something suitable for today. Casual.

  Something different from my usual perfect attire.

  I think I just need a break from all of this. I wish my Mustang were finished, I would love to test Jackson’s theory about cars delivering a sense of freedom.

  I smile when I see my South University sweatshirt from my days in college.

  I pull it off of the hanger and eagerly slip it on over my head, combining it with a pair of jeans that I haven’t worn for a few years.

  Nicholas hates it when I wear jeans, says it’s beneath me and that I should dress like the wife of a senator.

  Well today, he’s in D.C. and I’m here. And I’m going to enjoy my little break.

  I go into the master bathroom and apply a small amount of make-up, light mascara and lip gloss, and pull my hair into a loose, low pony tail.

  I stare at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror, I feel ten years younger. Closer to my own age.

  I bounce happily down the stairs, excited to start my day.

  I hear the doorbell when I reach the bottom of the stairs and my heart sinks.

  Please don’t let it be Karen.

  Maybe I don’t have to answer it.

  Of course, if it is Karen then she will probably call my husband and he will freak out.

  Deciding that I don’t want to deal with that headache, I begrudgingly walk over to the door and peek out through the peephole.

  I’m almost giddy when I see that it is not Karen.

  I open the door and am pleasantly surprised by Jackson standing there. Wearing the usual, ripped jeans, tight long sleeved t-shirt clinging to his large, hard body.

  “Jackson.”

/>   He grins at me. No doubt, taking in the way I’m dressed as well, and by his smile I determine he approves, “Charlotte.”

  I’m happy to see him.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be, but there is no hiding my excitement, “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see if you wanted to go with me to Independence.”

  “Independence?”

  “Yeah, it’s in Missouri, about half an hour north of here. I have to pick up the grill for your car, and I thought I would see if you wanted to go along and give your approval.”

  We both know I have no knowledge of the matter, but I’m not turning this down. Jackson is the one person that frees me from the world I’ve grown accustomed to. While Nicholas is gone, I think I need that more than ever so that I don’t cave when he gets back. “Well, I was going to go to the City Market, but I suppose I can skip that.”

  He rubs the subtle amount of scruff on his chin, “Since you are doing this for me I suppose we could swing by there on the way back. Unless, you are expecting the Senator to be back tonight and need to get home.”

  “That would be wonderful, Jackson. And no, he will more than likely be gone all week.”

  I know that spending time with him is dangerous. I’m not crazy, but we are both responsible adults. We are aware of my marriage and capable of not crossing any lines.

  Right?

  Sure. I’m not doing anything wrong. Today we are just two friends hanging out, having fun.

  I think I remember how to have fun.

  Chapter 18

  Jax

  Charlotte looks way to fucking good today.

  When I rang the doorbell, I fully expected her to be dressed to the nines as usual, but she found another way to surprise the hell out me. She’s dressed in actual jeans, jeans that cling to her legs and hug her perfect ass in ways that no dress or skirt can.

  She isn’t wearing heels today, they are replaced with actual tennis shoes and she’s wearing a university sweatshirt. Hardly any make-up and her hair is in a loose ponytail. Somehow she looks more beautiful this way than in any other way I’ve seen her before.

  I know that after our close call last night, I probably shouldn’t be here. In fact, I should stay far away, but I can’t.

  And not only because she’s a client.

  I promised her I would be there for her as a friend and that’s what I’m determined to do.

  I never go back on my word. I do however, need to make sure that today I remain semi-professional.

  Charlotte locks up her house and we walk side by side out to her driveway, where she stops in awe and smirks over at me, “That’s not your truck.”

  “No it’s not. It’s my GTO.”

  She walks over to my pristine 1968, black GTO, “It’s beautiful. Did you customize it yourself?”

  I nod and walk over to the passenger door, opening it for Charlotte, “Yeah, well with Dylan’s help when I was in college.”

  I saved like fucking crazy to restore this car long before Dylan and I started our own business together.

  “Wow, I’ve never owned a car for that long.”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll keep the Mustang for a while.”

  “Of course I will.”

  She smiles as I gesture for her to get into the car. She gently scoots into the car and looks around. When she’s securely inside I close the door and climb in the driver’s seat.

  “Need to stop anywhere along the way?”

  She shakes her head and I put the car in reverse to back out of her driveway.

  We make idle chit chat. Mostly about how warm it is today for January in Kansas and how much traffic is on the road.

  Neither one of us is bringing up last night and I’m more than okay with that.

  Although, the subtle hint of her perfume in the air reminds me of how close her body was to mine last night. How close those lips were to touching mine.

  We finally reach the shop in Independence where they have an original grill for Charlotte’s Mustang, we try our best not to make parts for cars, but restore original pieces.

  I turn the car off, “You wanna wait here or come in?”

  A determined look is dawning on that pretty face, “I’d like to go in. It’s for my car after all.”

  We both hop out of my car and walk inside together. This place is kinda rough, a lot like the first place I took Charlotte to look for Mustang frames. This time though, she’s dressed a little more inconspicuous.

  We walk in and I greet Tony, the son of the owner of the shop, he slaps his hand in mine, “Holy shit Jax. It’s good to see you man!”

  “Good to see you, too. Do you have that grill for me?”

  He nods his head and then spots Charlotte, “Ah, making this into a date I see. Nice.”

  I hold up my right hand to silence him, “Nah, this is my client Charlotte.”

  “And friend.” Charlotte interjects and I can’t help but to smile at that.

  Tony’s eyebrows raise in suspicion as he sizes up Charlotte, “Friend, huh? Nice. Since when do you bring in client’s man? With the exception, of course, of that tool who followed you everywhere while you were working on his ’57 Chevy.”

  I cut him off quickly and gesture toward Charlotte, “And that would be her husband.”

  He looks over at her, “Oh shit, I’m sorry about that.”

  Charlotte, classy as always, brushes it off, “That’s quite alright, I know he can be abrasive sometimes.”

  “Right.” I point toward the back, “How about we look at that grill?”

  He leads us to the back to a nearly mint condition grill for the Mustang. I have already seen it in the pictures he sent me yesterday, but wanted to inspect it in person. After getting Charlotte’s okay, I close the deal and we leave.

  When we are back in the car, Charlotte speaks up, “So my husband made quite the impression on him.”

  I nod my head as I pull onto I-35, “I’m sorry about that. He shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Well it’s not like he could have known.”

  “That’s true, so you ready for the City Market?”

  She nods her head emphatically, like she can’t wait. “Absolutely.”

  “Have you ever been?”

  “No, but I’m excited.”

  Brooke and Alex frequent the market which means that Dylan and I have been with them quite a few times. It’s loud and crowded and not really a place I would have picked for Charlotte, but she seems genuinely enthusiastic about it.

  When I finally find a parking spot, we get out and I lock the car. Charlotte looks around at the packed market, “Wow, there are a lot of people here.”

  “Yeah, there usually is. At least it’s not the weekend though. This is nothing.”

  She looks slightly nervous. So I guide her away from the car, gently by the small of her back, “How about we grab something to eat for lunch first.”

  “That sounds great.”

  Charlotte and I walk through the crowds of people, most of who are browsing through the stands of fruit, vegetables, and other goods. We make it to a great hamburger joint right in the middle.

  We order our burgers and drinks and sit down at one of the small middle tables. It’s a small room, but we were lucky enough to spot a table inside.

  Charlotte takes a bite, “Oh wow! That’s amazing!”

  I laugh, “Tell me that’s not your first hamburger.”

  She smiles and wipes her mouth with a napkin, “No, but it has been a while. I eat mostly salads, and sometimes grilled chicken. No red meat.”

  I bite into my burger, “Damn, there’s no fuckin’ way I could do that.”

  She takes another bite, “It’s so good. I can’t believe that I have done without all these years. Who would have thought, a tiny little restaurant could be this good?”

  When we are both finished, I take the tray that our food was on and empty it into the trashcan before Charlotte and I make our way back out into the crowd of people
.

  We stop by a large fruit stand and I watch as Charlotte touches each apple. She looks uncertain so I ask her, “Have you ever shopped for produce before?”

  She looks slightly embarrassed, “Honestly?”

  I nod, but she should know the drill by now, “Yeah.”

  “No, we’ve always had someone to do our shopping for us, both at my parent’s house and with Nicholas. For the brief time I was in college I lived in a dorm where the food was provided.”

  I pick up a ripe apple, “This one looks good, you really just want to make sure it’s not too mushy and no obvious holes or huge blemishes.”

  She picks up another one and examines it, “Not too difficult I suppose.”

  I help her pick out some more fruit placing it into a bag for her. She pays the vendor and we continue our walk through the various vendors, “You think I’m strange don’t you?”

  I ponder that for a second. She’s definitely different from anyone I’ve met, but I wouldn’t say she is strange. Probably best to keep my answer short on this one, “No.”

  She swings around her bag of fruit proudly, “It is strange that I’ve never had to go grocery shopping.”

  I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe, but I get it. I didn’t grow up with very much. I was raised by my grandfather and he just owned a small mechanic shop.” Way to not get too personal, Jax.

  She stops walking and tilts her head, listening to my every word. “I didn’t know that.”

  I clear my throat before she asks why I was raised by my grandfather and not my parents, “Anyway, when Dylan and I first started our business we did everything ourselves. I mean every single thing from mechanics, assembling, to paintjobs. As our business grew though, we started getting guys to do it all for us. I’m fucking lucky if I even get to lay a hand on any of our cars these days.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  I grin, looking into her glowing eyes, “Every day, but I guess it’s the price I pay to have everything that I do now.”

  She starts her stroll around the market again, “So I guess you do understand.”

  “Yep, I totally get it.”

  She has a huge smile on her face now, walking around with more confidence than I’ve ever seen her have, “Well, I bet this fruit will be the best I’ve ever tasted.”