by Maren Smith
Vin turned back to the fire and rearranged the logs for a moment before speaking. The couple minutes of silence left Charlie in confusion. She'd already been worrying about Alex; now she wondered whether Vin's silence meant he'd somehow already told Alex or he was irritated she'd asked him to withhold information.
"Why would Alex be upset?" he called from the fireplace, his back still toward her.
She rolled her eyes, wishing she'd never said it. "Oh, never mind." He'd been squatting on his feet while working and now in one fluid motion swiveled on his heel toward her. What made her leery wasn't the way his eyes had hardened, but the way Bruce had come from somewhere in the house and sat at Vin's side without him calling him at all. Was he angry with her?
"No, you brought it up. I'd like to know the answer." He stood and walked toward her slowly. She tried to swallow, but all of a sudden in her mind, she was over his lap with his big hands crashing down on her backside. Her eyes dropped to his hands again. She needed to get a grip.
She met his eyes as he sat down next to her on the couch. "I don't know why; he's always tried to micro-manage my life. It's quite infuriating."
"That could be upsetting." He reached for his coffee. "Let me ask you this: why doesn't he want you to work? Is it the hospital? The hours? What is it you want me to keep from him? I mean, he seems like a decent guy to me."
"Yes, he is a wonderful man and has great intentions, I'm sure. It's not the work he's bothered by. It's the hours, and yes, the emergency room. Not because it's the ER, but because if I'm in the ER—it's overtime. Alex always has it stuck in his head that I'm sickly and can't handle working." She'd turned sideways on the couch and pulled her knees up under her so she didn't have to turn her head so far to the side to look at him.
"I'm sure he didn't get the idea you are sickly for no reason. Were you sick at some time?"
"Yes, at one point, but I haven't been in a long time." Charlie looked down into her cup because he was staring at her so intensely. Her eyes came up to his again when she felt his hand on her cheek, his thumb stroking her chin.
"Let's go back to the beginning of this conversation. What is it you don't want me to tell him?" His eyes were so dark they no longer looked brown. She couldn't even tell what was pupil and what was iris any longer and she couldn't look away.
"I said never mind. Don't worry about it."
"Charlene."
"Don't call me that!"
"That is the name on your license, the name your parents gave you. Now, I just want to be clear what it is I'm supposed to hide from Alex." He turned toward her more.
She set her coffee on the table again. "I'm tired. It's time for you to go."
A deep rumble came from his chest again before erupting in a chuckle, irritating her before she heard his words. "So that's how it is. You really are spoiled, aren't you, little girl? What you need is a good spanking."
She jumped up and rushed toward the arched doorframe to the entryway. "I said I want you to go. It's been a long week…"
"I'll go, after we take care of this. I don't want to leave like this, with things unresolved. What's between you and Alex is between you two, but I am an honest man and now you've included me—and asked me to lie for you." He stood up and walked to her slowly, each step making her heart pound so hard she thought it might explode on the next beat. "I believe you really want to be a good girl." He was right in front of her, leaning over her. He placed his elbow above her on the wall and continued talking, his voice husky and mesmerizing—that must have been the reason she hadn't run. She'd been hypnotized or something.
Charlie leaned back against the wall. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little crabby or something. Maybe just tired. It's been a long week and I probably need a good night's rest. I'll think about what you said." She crossed her arms over her middle.
Chapter Six
"That doesn't work, sugar." His hands came to her sides and slipped around her back. He'd been more than a gentleman the last couple times they had seen each other, the times he'd touched her had been teasing touches making her hotter and hotter. What went on in her imagination was by far hotter than anything he'd done yet. He pulled her close to him and her hands naturally went to his chest, her eyes to his lips because he started talking again. "My girlfriend is not going to get away with lying or asking me to lie. Do you understand me?"
She looked back to her fingers. He'd called her his girlfriend! His warm lips touched her forehead. Before she could respond he was walking, leading her by the arm back to the sofa, the firelight, and their coffee. But the euphoric haze of being called his girlfriend started to drift away as his words played over in her head again. ...Get away with…
"Vin, wait," she cried as he sat down right in the middle of the orange sofa, and with his hand still on her arm he pulled her down over his thighs. "No, stop!"
"Sorry, Charlie." He pulled her up snug to his side. She tried to wiggle away but got nowhere. "I want to get something straight right now. I do not like lying and I won't accept it. I won't lie for you, or to you. I don't like it. Do you understand me?"
"You can't do this, Vin. It's abuse, it's police brutality. It's—Ow!"
"I'll drive you to the station to file a complaint with my captain when we are done." His hand slammed down on her bottom, an action she should be used to. But his hands must have had lead in them. He must do hand strength training. Hand-freaking-Olympics. And big, they must have been the size of Frisbees, much larger and harder than Alex's anyways. He knew exactly what he was doing and covered her rear from top to bottom with burning smacks. "You understand, no more lying—no asking anyone to lie for you."
"Whatever!"
He kept laying the law down on the right and on the left, on the swell and on the crease, on the thigh, and on the swell again. "You understand now? No more lying and no asking anyone to lie for you."
"Yes! Please—I'm sorry. Please, Vin. I'm sorry." Pain, heat and agony exploded everywhere.
"Good girl, thank you. Now we are going to talk about why you want me to lie to your brother." He surprised her by doing something Alex had never done before, rubbing her bottom over her yoga pants and her full swells, to the tender sit-spot, and down her thighs. "Charlene?"
"What?" she snapped. She'd been ready to moan; thank God he'd pulled her out of it. What was he doing to her? "Ay-ouch!"
"I asked you a question; I want an answer." He'd given her two more fast slaps to her thighs. She'd already been crying, but these swats brought new tears to her eyes. She looked back over her shoulder at him. He'd stopped that rubbing. What was that? And why did he stop?
"I… I don't remember what you asked. Why did you rub it?" Alex always told her no rubbing.
Was that? Yes—he was chuckling. "Silly girl. Did you like that?" He rubbed for another minute and she had to hold herself steady—she was not going to lift her bottom to meet his hand and plead for more. But all of a sudden he started smacking again, and she started bucking.
"Ow, ouch. Stop! Please, Vin!"
"You haven't answered my question, Charlie. That's what I'm waiting for, and to answer yours, I rub to make sure you are still feeling the spanking. So that you get the full effect and don't lose feeling."
"I hate you."
"I hope not. I really like you. I want a lot more… but I can be as stubborn as you are. Now tell me why you want me to lie. The longer this takes, the more inclined I am going to be to take off my belt."
"For the same freaking reason… Because he would spank me," she cried, embarrassed and indignant.
"That is not what I meant. I'm fully aware of that. I mean why. There has to be more to why he would be upset about you working." He knew that Alex spanked her?
"Because he's a big freaking jerk."
He gave her maybe twenty more, very hearty smacks and stopped there. "Try again. I don't want to but I can do this all night."
"Because I was so sick," she sobbed. "Anorexia in high school." Her words were broken up b
y her sobs. "Almost had a heart attack." The spanking finally stopped, but Vin did something else different than Alex; instead of helping her to stand he pulled her into his lap and hugged her there. Alex would hug her and make sure she was all right, but Vin held her close and cuddled her. "I'm better now. Honest. But he won't believe me," Charlie cried into his chest.
He didn't say anything, just kept rubbing her back and letting her talk. "Two years ago I got pneumonia and it got pretty severe. The doctor said I had such a hard time kicking it because my immune system had been so depleted. That I was running myself ragged or something. Now Alex just has that set in his mind."
"Did you agree not to work extra shifts?" Vin caught her chin and lifted it so she had to look into his dark eyes. When he put it that way… It did kind of make her sound bad, again.
"What could I do?" she sputtered.
"But you agreed?"
She rested her head on his chest. "Yes."
* * * * *
"If I eat that, I'll puke."
Miranda took the carton of Rocky Road ice cream from Charlie's hand and switched it for the bottle of wine. "That's mine; the Cabernet is for you. Now start talking."
"I don't know where to start…" Charlie pressed her cold fingers to her forehead and tried not to cry. "There's a fire in the fireplace," she called to Miranda, who went to the kitchen while she headed to the couch again.
"What is the matter with Brinks? He's normally barking his little head off at me." Miranda plopped down next to her and popped the top off her ice cream carton. She didn't bother with a bowl, just dug right in. Charlie thought she would be sick just watching her.
"He's still looking for Bruce. He's been pacing and searching the house ever since he left." Charlie got up and went into the kitchen to find the wine cork. She'd thought that was what Miranda had gone for. She almost skipped the glass, but grabbed two anyway.
"I'm not here because I'm afraid to eat my ice cream alone. Give me the damn details!" Miranda demanded before she'd even made it back to the sofa.
"I don't know what to say… I… he… I don't think it's a good idea, Miranda. Am I ever going to find a normal man? Should I move… get away from here?" Charlie tossed back the wine she'd poured to start with and poured more before tenderly sitting down on the sofa next to her long-time friend.
"For the love of God, if you don't tell me what the hell happened, you're going to have to run away from me!"
"Everything has been going perfectly… until tonight—I'm just sure I blew it. It was nice. It wasn't really a date, I mean; we both just got off work. It was when I asked him not to tell Alex that he'd seen me at the hospital…"
"Really, Charlie? That's what you chose to talk about on your date?" Miranda rubbed her face and gave a much-exaggerated shrug. "Okay, I will give you some lessons so that you can do it right next time."
"I don't think there is going to be a next time."
"Why not? What did he say when he left? Did you guys make out at all?"
"Well, he did kiss me before he left…"
"Was it a mind-blowing kiss, like all hands on deck or just an Uncle George peck?"
"What do you mean an Uncle George peck? I don't have an uncle… and it was a little mind blowing…" Charlie put her head in her hands. She was hopeless.
"So it was a peck… What did he say though? Some men are just gentlemen at first. What did he say? That could make a difference."
"I don't know—I'll call you…" Her head ached already and she'd only had one glass of wine. Maybe it had been a bad idea to call Miranda; her endless questioning was making things worse by the second.
"Oh no, that is never good. No, I wouldn't expect to hear from him again."
"Well, it's not really that. It's not him I'm worried about. I mean I am. Oh shit. I don't know what I mean. I just don't think I want to hear from him again. I want to move so I can avoid him and Alex altogether now."
"Did I miss something?" Miranda pointed her spoon at Charlie, then at an imaginary point in the air and back as if she were trying to sort out what Charlie had just said. "What?" She stopped trying to sort it out.
"He freaking spanked me, Miranda, and it wasn't sexy like you said. It hurt! Maybe even worse than Alex's! And it was humiliating. I don't want any more of this. When I find a real guy, I want him to be someone who will sweep me off my feet with lovemaking and take care of me. Not do that—that whole thing I hate. When I think about it, about Alex, I know that his intentions are good. I know he loves me. But one day my prince will come and stop all that nonsense and finally Alex will see—"
Miranda moved over and laid her head on Charlie's shoulder. "He'll come, Charles. He'll come."
Warm tears leaked out of Charlie's eyes and she rubbed them away. "I always believed that, but I'm not sure and I can't just wait. I want you to help me."
"You got it, babe. Anything."
* * * * *
When Miranda had finally gone home, having finished more than she should have been allowed to eat of the ice cream and still look as beautiful as she did in a bikini, she had not touched the second empty wine glass. That meant that Charlie had actually consumed the whole bottle. She never even made it to her own bed. It seemed too dangerous to walk that far when the house was tilting and turning the way it had been.
She didn't want that shed built. She told them to stop building it. The hammering—it was killing her. Why in the world would they build it now of all times? "Shut up…" Bruce… no, it wasn't Bruce. Who was Bruce? Brinks, it had to be Brinks. "Brinks. No." The barking. The pounding. "Brinks!" The sunlight. Her head. Oh God, her head.
What was that pounding? "Brinks, shut up." She pulled her arm back over her eyes to block out the sunlight streaming through the open blinds. It was someone knocking. Who was knocking? She pulled her arm back again and cringed against the light. Her temple was throbbing.
She peered out of one eye and looked around the living room. It all came back to her when she saw the wine bottle and glasses on the coffee table. But that didn't explain why someone was knocking and Brinks was barking. And who the hell said anything about a shed? She rolled to sitting and called out to the knocker to come in.
She cursed again as both the knocking and the barking continued. She had to venture to the door, and she was going to kill the knocker. She picked up Brinks so he wouldn't dart out.
"What?" she demanded as she tried to throw the door open but hurt her shoulder instead. It was locked, surprisingly. She never remembered to lock it. Had Alex been there? She twisted the deadbolt and pulled it back, revealing the newest source of her problems. Vin, sexy as hell, dressed in his uniform, his back straight and tall and his eyes soft and concerned even though his face was hard.
"I was getting really worried. Are you okay?" His eyes narrowed.
Charlie brought her hand to her head, brushed her hair aside and then backed into the house. Seeing Bruce at Vin's feet, she set the wiggling terrier down; all Brinks wanted to do was get down and play. "There—go play with Bruce. You little traitor." Charlie stumbled into the living room and flopped on the couch again.
"It's Tango. We're working." Vin came in and followed her. "Charlie, are you sick? Oh… I see."
She didn't know what he saw because her eyes were closed again, thank God. "I'm sorry. I was sleeping. I called for you to come in. I didn't know the door was locked; it usually isn't. Miranda must've locked it last night. I gotta headache." It occurred to her all of a sudden that he was there. Why was he there? She uncovered her face. "Um, did you want something? I mean, is there a reason you're here?"
"Well, I thought a lot about you last night and just didn't want too much time to go by before I spoke with you again. I didn't want you to spend too much time focusing on that… On the bad. It looks like I'm too late." He nodded to the empty wine bottle.
Her face flushed hot. She had the worst luck of anyone—ever. "No, Miranda, my best friend, was upset because we didn't get to hang out on V-day. So, she
came by last night; it worked out great…" The lie punished her in the form of a hippo sitting on her head. Or maybe she had a brain tumor. She probably had a brain tumor from all of the lies she had told. She groaned again.
"Where do you keep your Tylenol? You have some, don't you?
He had already headed for her bathroom when she mumbled, "Medicine chest."
When he came back a few moments later, he sat next to Charlie on the sofa. "Here, sugar, take these. They should help, that and drinking enough fluids. Although I'm sure you know that."
He handed her two red and yellow capsules as she sat up and opened her hand. "Thanks." She tossed them in her mouth and took a sip of the water he handed her. Then she tried to give the water back and slouch down again.
"No, drink some more. Alcohol dehydrates you. You should know that, too."
"If I drink more of the freaking water I will puke the Tylenol up—Doctor Loveanu." As soon as Charlie said the words she regretted them. Vin took the glass from her and set it on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving hers. If the look he gave her meant anything, she had no doubt that if circumstances had been different she would have been over his lap before she even had a chance to regret it.
He leaned over her and kissed her forehead, his hand brushing her hair aside. Then his lips were warm on her ear and she heard his husky voice. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well right now, but I am not happy with you taking it out on me." He leaned back so his face was just above hers and he looked deep into her eyes, his fingers still playing with her hair. "I wish I could stay, but I have to work and it's probably not a good time anyway, but I'm coming back as soon as I get off tonight. I want you to rest and drink plenty of fluids. We have a lot to talk about before we go to Alex and Jenna's. Okay?"
* * * * *
"You don't have to do this today, Charles. We can hang on to it and—"
"No, don't try to stop me. I already have Brinks' toys packed and he is excited. I just need a minute to remember how to sign my name…" In truth she was trying to steady her hand. It shook so bad she was sure nobody would even accept her signature. Miranda probably could see that anyway. She'd been toying with this idea for a long time. She'd just finally gotten up enough courage to go through with it.
