“That makes sense, I guess. More social. Might give you the upper hand over the other applicants.” Her brows rose in a quick motion and a smile touched her mouth. “Did you meet Jeremiah in Afghanistan?”
Oh, this could get sticky. He really needed to deflect too many questions about that, at least for a little while. “Well, I was there for two years. Did he ever tell you about the terrain?”
She glanced over. “The mountains? How it’s not all sand like people think?”
“Exactly. It was really pretty in some areas. A little like home, but tropical.”
“Where’s home?” She rested her elbow on the window.
“Oklahoma.”
“Oh, not too far.” They reached town and Charlee went inside the hardware store while Ian helped the workers load the new water heater. She came out with her arms full. She held two potted plants in one hand and a receipt in the other. The fragrant greenery filled Ian’s nose as he moved in to take some of the stuff. For the first time since they’d met, she gave the load to him without flinching. His face split into a smile. “Hey, I think you’re getting used to me.”
She quirked a frown, her brows disappearing beneath those rhinestone sunglasses, and she got into the truck.
Just after she pulled out, she slowed the truck. “Do you like ice cream?”
“Yeah.” Who didn’t like ice cream?
She pointed to a small, cone-shaped building just off the road. “Mind if we stop?”
“Sure.”
Charlee pulled into the gravel drive and hopped out of the truck. He followed her toward the walk-up counter, barely glancing at the offerings.
She screeched to a halt halfway there and turned to face him. “Don’t tell.”
His brows rose. “Excuse me?”
She huffed. “You can’t tell them when we get back. You have to promise.”
“Uh.” But really, what was there to say? She was a grown woman. Did she really have to have approval to eat ice cream? This was getting too weird. “Why?”
Frustration at having to explain flickered in her gaze. “Because it’s King Edward’s night to cook and the rest of us have an agreement not to eat before dinner. We all have to suffer through together.”
Amused at her, he tilted closer. “You told me I’d love King Edward’s food.”
Charlee waved a hand through the air. “Oh, let’s face it. No one loves his food. It’s horrible.”
“Aaah, so you’re a liar?” he teased.
“No.” Innocent eyes blinked. “I like to think of myself as more of a person who goes by the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law.”
He tilted a touch closer, his face coming down to where only a few inches separated them. To the unknowing onlooker, they might look like two lovers on a date discussing which type of milk shake to share.
Body language was everything. And he’d learned to read it while deployed. Charlee wasn’t backing away. But he figured she didn’t have much of a flight gene. With her it was all fight. She probably didn’t have the sense to back down from an angry rattlesnake. “Well, I think your secret’s safe with me. But it will cost you.”
The wind grabbed her hair and tossed it right into him. He fought the urge to breathe it in.
“How much? A hot fudge sundae is only worth so much.”
“I’ll think about it and let you know. Better yet, I’ll just let you know when and how you can pay up.” He hadn’t meant for that spark of sensuality to accompany his remark. But he knew it did because he saw it reflected in her eyes, eyes that darkened if only for an instant, then returned to the shade of a swimming pool at dusk.
He moved to the counter to order. The guy standing on the other side was wearing a red-and-white striped shirt and hat. He craned his long neck to look around Ian, practically ignoring him. “Hi there, Charlee.”
She stopped alongside Ian, her arm scraping against his. “Hi, Rodney.” Sweetness in her tone. “How are you feeling?”
As soon as she said his name, red snaked up his throat and settled on the apples of his cheeks. “You know, I’m doing okay.”
Ian glanced over, watched her smile broaden. “No hug?”
Rodney wiped his hands on his towel and came around the counter through a screen door. He pulled Charlee into an embrace that lasted a little too long for Ian’s comfort.
When Rodney finally stepped back, she looked him up and down and Ian had to swallow a couple times because something was stuck in his throat. Heat flashed down his arms. That’s when it hit him he didn’t like seeing Charlee be so nice to some other guy when she barely tolerated him.
Charlee took the tall, skinny guy’s face in her hands. “You look great, Rodney. Gaining some weight, right?”
“Not fast enough. Who’s your friend?” Rodney seemed concerned, but returned to his post on the other side of the counter.
Charlee placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “This is Ian Carlisle. He’s working for me for the summer. He just returned from Afghanistan.”
Judging by the frown on striped guy’s face, he must not have liked the fact that Ian and Charlee would be together for the entire summer. Ian held a hand out, shoving it right through the window. “Nice to meet you, Rodney.”
Rodney stared at the outstretched hand a few seconds then slowly lifted his. Ian gave him a firm handshake—an act of mutual respect.
“You too, Ian.” It was almost a question.
Geez, he’d only been gone from the states two years. Didn’t anyone shake hands anymore?
Rodney turned his attention to Charlee. “The usual?”
She nodded.
Ian looked down at her and for the briefest second, it felt like a date. He forced that image from his mind. “What’s the usual?”
“Hot fudge, bananas, marshmallow, and extra whipped cream.”
“Ew. Seriously?”
She challenged him with a wide-eyed stare.
Ian turned back to Rodney. “I’ll just have a hot fudge sundae with pecans.”
Charlee drummed her fingers on the counter while they waited.
Rodney returned with Charlee’s concoction and a good old-fashioned hot fudge sundae for Ian. He handed them out the window. “No charge.”
Ian had already dug a twenty out of his wallet. He held it in midair.
Rodney nodded to it. “Really. No charge. Thanks for serving our country.”
Ian would have argued, but what could he say? Slowly, he slipped the twenty into his wallet. “Thanks. Very much.”
It wasn’t the fact that someone was willing to offer him a few bucks’ worth of ice cream. It was the fact that they remembered, were aware that young soldiers put their lives on the line every day, living on foreign soil, missing out on time with their families.
As they turned to walk to a picnic table, Charlee bumped his shoulder. “Nice gesture, huh?”
Ian was a little choked up. “Yeah. Seems like a good guy.” He wasn’t fishing, no, not really, wasn’t trying to determine the relationship between this guy and Charlee.
“He’s a good friend. Known him forever.” Charlee slid onto the seat across from Ian and took a bite. “Mmm.” Her eyes closed and Ian was glad because that sound wrapped right around his gut and shot downward.
Charlee opened her eyes and winked. “I don’t think he really liked you at first.”
“I think what he didn’t like was that I was with you.”
“What?” Her spoon dug into the whipped cream again.
“He’s got a crush on you, Charlee.”
She pointed at Ian with the spoon. “Don’t say that. He does not.”
Ian’s sundae was melting so he took a giant bite. “He totally does.”
Charlee shook her head, concern pinching her brows. “No. He couldn’t; I mean he knows about . . .”
This brought Ian’s gaze up. “About what?”
Charlee looked lost in her own thought. “Not what. Who. And you know what? I don’t want to talk about it.” She flew off the picnic table bench and headed for the truck.
Ian remained seated, took another bite. “How you gonna eat that and drive a stick shift?”
She squared her shoulders and came back over to the table. “I can’t.”
Ian grinned up at her. “You can sit down if you’d like.”
She plopped onto the seat. “Okay, but as far as that other stuff, I don’t want to talk about it.”
He shrugged. “No one’s asking you to.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay then.”
And they finished their ice cream with Ian wondering just how far he was going to let this go before he admitted the real reason he was there. He pushed the thought aside. It wasn’t something he could just come out and say to her. He knew that. Had been told that. She’d need time. She’d need someone she could trust. But how much would she trust him when she learned the truth? His appetite for ice cream was gone.
He wasn’t doing this for himself; that’s what he needed to remember. This was to honor a promise he’d made. Whatever the outcome for him, it couldn’t matter. Helping Charlee understand was what mattered. And that would take time. But at least he was seeing some cracks in that granite shell of hers. At least those walls seemed to be eroding just a touch.
“You okay?” Charlee’s voice. Soft and tender.
“Sorry. Got lost in my own head there for a few seconds.”
There was a speck of whipped cream on her lip. “I saw that. You know, I understand that it’s got to be pretty difficult to enter society again after being deployed so long.” Her tongue captured the whipped cream while her fingertips grazed the edge of her dish.
Ian stayed quiet. It was. For so many more reasons than he could say.
“If you ever need to talk . . .”
His eyes came up to meet hers. Sincerity drifted from her, that tiny glimmer he’d noticed when they first met and she’d softened when she realized he was a soldier. It made sense. She had four brothers in the military—as far as he knew, they were all deployed right now—and her father had died a military hero. “Thanks.” It was all he could manage because what made life in society difficult for him was her. Her and the secret he carried. Her and the truth that had to come out. Her and the fact he needed to change her mind about things she’d been resigned to for a long time.
Charlee stood. “Let’s go home.”
Ian swallowed. She’d chosen the word, home, specifically. He already knew her well enough to know that. Home was the safe place. Home was where you worked out your problems. Home was . . . it wasn’t his home and it would never be. But that was okay. He appreciated the gesture. Ian painted on a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
Charlee stood at the kitchen window staring out over the hub. Wynona and Wilma were placing a row of white lights around the umbrella of one of the round tables. The new lights gave a soft glow to the space. Charlee loved it. She loved the hub and the platform where four round patio tables anchored the dance floor. The dance floor was what Wynona had dubbed the large square space, and it really did resemble a dance floor. Of course, it had never been used for that purpose since she’d opened the retreat. Charlee grinned as she watched Wilma and Wynona string lights on the other tables. Tiki torches in full flame also helped illuminate the space and kept the bugs and mosquitoes to a minimum. Along with the whimsical decorations of a hundred artists who’d left their mark, the dinner space looked magical. This was one of her favorite times of the day because it was her opportunity to recharge, relax, and just enjoy. It was the one time of day she felt most connected to the purpose of Marilee Retreat. It was when she was just another artist, not the proprietor. Not the fixer of things, not the redeemer of lost items or the smoother of arguments.
Behind her, standing at the long stainless steel counter, King Edward continued fixing his spaghetti and tuna. “What do you think of the soldier?” she asked as she turned to face him.
He pursed his mouth and shrugged.
The smell filling the kitchen was slightly nauseating. Charlee chewed her cheek and thought about her new hire. “Seems kind of sad to me.” He’d proven himself on the water heater, no question. If she was honest with herself—which she’d already decided not to be—she enjoyed his company. He reminded her of her brothers, only Carlisle was not as stiff and seemed less neurotic. Easy to talk to. In fact, she’d almost told him about Richard. At the thought of his name, the nausea increased. Richard, her epic mistake. He’d sailed into Charlee’s life and swept her off her feet. He’d acted interested in her artwork, the retreat, every detail of her life. It all seemed to fascinate Richard. For once, Charlee had felt like the center of someone’s attention. Until she found him at the Neon Moon with a redhead. That night, she learned his real intentions where Charlee was concerned. It wrecked her. And she wasn’t one to recover quickly.
“I’m not certain the soldier isn’t an ax murder.”
Charlee chuckled, letting the tension of Richard’s betrayal go. She had more immediate things to ponder. Like Carlisle. “Well, we don’t know for sure. I tried to call Jeremiah about him, but never got through.”
“Jeremiah is in North Carolina, right?”
“Yes. He’s on a hunting trip for another week, then he’ll be back at base.” It helped knowing at least one of her brothers was on American soil. Now, if she could just get the other three home. “As far as your thoughts, I’m pretty sure Ian isn’t an ax murderer.”
“We’ll all end up dead like those kids in the horror flicks.”
Charlee spun and leaned her weight against the sink. “Don’t be so dramatic. Ian’s my hire. My responsibility. You’re not going to die a Hollywood death and as far as who I put to work on my property, it’s none of my brother’s business. I don’t have to call him. Get his approval.”
“Hate to tell you, but you had already decided that when you first met Ian.” King Edward grunted as he came toward her. “Char Char Baby. Can you hold the strainer since you’re hogging the sink?”
“Got it.” Steam rose from the hot noodles as they flopped into the colander. All that lovely spaghetti getting ready to die a horrible death smothered in red tuna sauce.
She shook the noodles and dropped them back into the pot. “I’ll follow you.”
King Edward took the lead. They were greeted with applause when they stepped outside and Charlee couldn’t help her eyes from flittering over the gathering of people in search of a certain dark-headed handyman. Then, across the lawn, she spotted him. He’d changed his work jeans for a fresh pair that were faded and looked soft as velvet hugging his strong thighs and narrow waist. There were holes in the knees and for some reason that made him distinctively sexy as he moved toward her. A tight black tank stretched across his chest and Charlee hadn’t realized she’d come to a screeching halt until she heard King Edward’s voice in her ear. “Oh honey. You do look hungry.”
Charlee blinked several times, feeling the heat rise to her face. Across the lawn, Ian reached down and captured a dandelion. He looked so comfortable, one hand sinking into those snug jeans, the other with the dandelion between his finger and thumb. He looked so at home crossing her property like he owned it. “Well, if our little soldier can stroll a little faster, we might get to eat before it’s cold.”
King Edward clucked his teeth. “I’m sensing some sexual frustration coming from you, Char Char.”
She speared him with her eyes.
King Edward continued to talk, taking no notice of her disapproval. “I wouldn’t call that a stroll. I’d call it a saunter.”
Suddenly, Charlee was aware of the other inhabitants in a semicircle around her. All eyes in the direction of Ian Carlisle. Wilma placed a hand on her shoulder. “
Yes, definitely a saunter. Oh or maybe a swagger.”
Wynona agreed. “Swagger. Absolutely. And look how effortless he makes it. My my my, if I’d had a dance partner that smooth, I could have conquered the world.”
Charlee’s heart was a hammer in her chest. But she found it difficult to move from the spot.
“Conquer the world, my darling,” Wynona said again and pointed at Ian. “That’s what a man like that can make you feel like.”
A fresh wave of emotions washed over Charlee. The world spun back into focus. She knew that feeling. Powerful and bulletproof. “Yes. A man like that can. Right before he runs you down like yesterday’s roadkill.”
Wynona sighed.
King Edward placed the sauce on the table. “All I know is it’s going to be one hot summer.”
Charlee hoped not. She was tired and frazzled and the last thing she needed was her already-unsteady equilibrium being shifted further. Too many things were going wrong in her world, and if not wrong, too many things were changing. One of the biggest, the way she felt about the retreat. Every morning she had to drag herself out of bed to face the day. And that wasn’t like her. Love was turning to chore. And across the lawn she saw both an answer and a problem in Ian Carlisle. But of all the things she didn’t know, one thing was clear. Ian needed a little time to adjust to life in the real world. And one thing she could offer was a retreat, a safe place for those who didn’t quite fit into society. Where Charlee was concerned, Ian was just a different type of artist who needed a place to land.
No problem. She was good at that. But she’d guard her heart also. She had a soft spot for soldiers. Charlee needed him to be like her brothers. Like her father, because those were the kinds of men who could never approve of her life’s work and who could never understand it. They were warriors, leaders, fighters. But they weren’t alive inside the way she’d need a man to be. They weren’t artists or passionate or even spontaneous. They were ordered and disciplined. And soon enough, Ian would be driving her crazy with his type A attitude. Of course, he would. And that kept her safe. In some ways he already was.
Along the Broken Road (The Roads to River Rock Book 1) Page 5
