Misplaced Innocence

by Veronica Morneaux

  “Yeah. Don’t worry. I got her. As soon as I got your note I went to your place. I thought I might catch you there. I thought I had, when I saw your truck and Scruff inside.” He shook his head as if to dispel the memory of the destroyed house. “She was fine. Nothing a little love and some water couldn’t fix. Your keys were right by the cab.”

  Charisma rolled her eyes. “It was so stupid. I thought I couldn’t leave without that stupid photo album. I should have just asked you in the letter to pick it up for me and keep it –”

  “Actually,” he interrupted, “You shouldn’t have written me a note at all. You should have stayed right where I left you so I could keep an eye on you. Maybe this all could have been avoided.”

  Charisma snorted. “Right. You know it was just a matter of time…”

  “Well, even if it had been, then I would have been there.”

  “And that would have been great. With my luck they would have shot you then.”

  He harrumphed and Charisma considered that to be some sort of assent. “Anyway, I left Scruffy with Bill. We can pick her up whenever we get home.”

  She liked the sound of those words, but she didn’t want to draw his attention to them. “When can we leave?”

  “A few days. The bullet was easy enough to remove. A little rehabbing and I should be back up to par. Actually, the broken ribs from the fall are what hurt the most. The shoulder will be back like it was before I know it. But now it hurts to breathe. It hurts to laugh. Pretty much just existing is painful. But it shouldn’t be too long before I’m up and running.”

  “That’s good to hear.” She took the flowers from his lap and busied herself by putting them in water. “We won’t need to be back in town until the trial begins. Basically we’re free birds until then.”

  He watched her as she moved around the room. A wry grin filled his voice. “Did you have big plans for us with all that free time?”

  She shook her head, sending her glossy hair tumbling, “Not really. Lots of lazy mornings. Lots of Advil. I think it’s going to be great.”

  “That’s good; that’s good.”

  The room grew quiet, and when Charisma had turned from where she was arranging the flowers in front of the dreary window, she saw that Jared’s eyes were closed and his breathing soft. He was already asleep.

  She pressed the smallest of kisses to his forehead and smoothed his hair back, trying not to pay any attention to the beeping and whirring of the machines around him. The door closed quietly behind her and she left the hospital quickly. It was too much of a reminder of how things might have been, had she and Jared not been so lucky.

  But it wasn’t worth thinking too much about what might have been. They were fortunate enough to have avoided the worst of it, and they would deal with what they had been left with. He hadn’t objected to their big plans of lazy days and she took that to be a step in the right direction. She may have conveniently left out some of the other more exciting activities they could accomplish when house-bound, but that would be worth exploring together. A wicked smile lit her face, almost distracting enough to overshadow the extent of the bruise.

  For now, though, she had a lunch engagement she couldn’t afford to miss.

  ~*~

  The café’s chairs were hard. Charisma squirmed while she tried to focus on the menu in front of her. Ever fiber of her being wanted to turn away from the small text in an unappealing font and focus on the woman at the other side of the table.

  It had been a long time since she had sat down to a meal with her mother.

  She looked like Charisma had imagined she would. The same woman she had always been with a few more lines around her eyes. It was so eerily close to the image she had constructed of her mother that she sometimes wondered if her mother was actually there.

  She had the same pale hair, shot through now with more silver than Charisma had remembered. The same crystal eyes that shared the same shape as Charisma’s. She was still slender and commanding and abstract and all the things mothers were. Charisma’s gut twisted inside of her. She never thought she would make it back for a meal with her mother.

  She finally decided on some fancy sounding entrée that she knew was just a garden salad, and let herself sneak a peak across the table. Her mother had long since set aside her own menu and was watching Charisma unabashedly. When her eyes caught her daughter’s she smiled, and her eyes glazed over with a sheen that might have been tears.

  “It’s good to see you, Candace.”

  The name jarred Charisma back to New Jersey. It had been a long time since someone had called her anything other than Charisma. And before that it had always been Candy. Her mother was one of the few who took the time to say her name, and it was soft and warm and it sounded like every memory she had of growing up in her mother’s home.

  “It’s good to see you,” she paused a long moment before continuing, “Mom.”

  Her mother smiled and didn’t comment on the fact that Charisma had practically muttered the sentence into her water glass. She had the feeling her mother was going to be commenting on a lot less than she used to. The first twenty minutes of their initial encounter had been filled with her mother’s sobbing and a repeated litany of all the things she had thought might have happened to Charisma.

  Truly, a person never needs to hear about how many dire ends loved ones can create for you.

  Apparently, her mother didn’t feel the need to remind Charisma again of what horrible things she had imagined fate held in store for her. Instead she offered her another watery smile and turned to the waiter.

  When she was finished ordering her grilled Salmon, she turned to Charisma. “Did you want the salad, dear?”

  Charisma nodded, feeling a sudden rush of new tears.

  “House on the side?” Her mother was watching her, and Charisma tore her dark eyes away from her mother’s light ones as she nodded.

  It wrenched at her heart to know her mother still knew exactly what she was going to order. That not a minute of their time apart had dulled Charisma in her mind.

  She swallowed hard. Coming home was harder than she had thought it would be.

  ~*~

  Charisma signed one last release form. At this rate she was entitled to a large part of whatever inheritance Jared had. She had put up with more paperwork at this hospital than she had when she bought her house in Arizona.

  Jared was next to her in a wheelchair. He craned his head back as though it would give him a view of the top of the counter. He was still grumbling about the chair. Apparently there was some sort of hospital policy about wheelchairs and checkout. Jared threw scowls in every available nurse’s direction. Evidently, a week in a hospital room made for a pretty unhappy Jared Williams.

  Charisma dotted one last “i,” turned the papers over to the discharge nurse and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. She was getting out while the getting was good, and if she had to start running over the nurses with the wheelchair, so be it. Sacrifices had to be made.

  She found secret pleasure in ramming Jared’s wheelchair into the elevator door. He grunted at the impact, but said nothing else. Shocking, considering how much he had been saying recently. And if any of it had been positive, Charisma had missed it.

  “Sorry,” she grumbled, trying not to let the smile pulling at her mouth come through in her words, and glad for the fact that Jared couldn’t see her. She was anxious to get him to the hotel, set him up, and get the hell out of there.

  The automatic doors couldn’t open fast enough, a wash of stifling, humid air, rushed toward them, and Charisma fought the impulse to gag. She certainly hadn’t missed the weather or the pollution. Apparently, Carlton had some benefits after all.

  She hailed a cab with one hand while clinging to the wheelchair with the other. She briefly considered giving the apparatus a hefty push and sending it into traffic, just to see what would happen. That thought also brought her immeasurable pleasure, and it was enough to keep her occupied while
she helped maneuver Jared from the leather seat of the chair into the sticky heat of the upholstered cab.

  She popped the chair into a waiting attendant’s hands, waved jauntily as she climbed into the front of the cab and directed the cabbie toward the local Sheraton. One hurdle down, just a few more to go.

  The next hurdle, it turned out, was checking in at the hotel. Jared had been more or less out of the way when he was in the wheelchair. Now, he was propped up at the counter, poking through papers, just as disagreeable as he had been in the hospital.

  Charisma rolled her eyes at the clerk and yanked the pen away from Jared for the second time. “Why don’t you just go sit down while I finish this up?” she growled between her teeth.

  “Why don’t you just go sit down and I’ll take care of this?” he snarled back.

  Charisma wondered if it would be frowned upon to crack the man still wrapped in bandaged and encased in a sling. On the other hand, her bruise had finally begun to fade and left an ugly green and blue welt that went through a shocking array of sickly colors before blending into the regular tint of her skin. They made quite the appalling pair.

  She snatched the electronic keys from the clerk as soon as they were available and he offered her a tight smile which she could only imagine hid a gross of other things he would rather be doing or saying. She stalked away from Jared, but he managed to keep pace with her – something she thought took more out of him than he was letting on, considering the current state of his ribs and the most recent dosing of his pain killers.

  The elevator sang its arrival and Charisma found herself wishing he had been placed in the custodial closet down the hall instead of the fourth floor. Every minute with him was just downright painful. He was in need of a vacation. Or a lobotomy. At the rate she was willing to take either one of those options.

  They snaked through the hallway until they came to Jared’s room. It was one of the last on the floor. She’d asked for something out of the way, out of the goodness of her heart she couldn’t seem to locate for Jared recently, because she wanted him to have as much uninterrupted sleep time as possible. She knew that somewhere, beneath all that gruff and horribly annoying attitude was the same Jared she had actually liked to spend time with. It was only a matter of time before that Jared made another appearance. She was hoping sleep would put him on the fast track to wellness. That was pretty much the last idea she had. Real food hadn’t helped. Jokes hadn’t helped. Smiling nurses hadn’t helped. Basically she had tried every conceivable, man-approved, approach to achieving equilibrium for Jared and they had all been promptly and emphatically squelched.

  The door swung wide and Charisma tossed the duffel bag filled with Jared’s belongings by the ironing board. She flipped on the lights and turned on the AC. The sooner she could get Jared settled and get out of here, the better.

  Jared had taken three steps into the room and sunken into an overstuffed chair. His hairline was damp with sweat. His face had a sallow pallor to it that tugged at Charisma and left her, despite her best efforts, concerned for him.

  She breezed into the bathroom and wet one of the washcloths with cool water. She made her way back to Jared and pressed the cloth against his face before he yanked it from her grasp and grumbled the most unheartfelt “Thank You” she had ever heard.

  “I need to be going,” she announced unnecessarily in response.

  “Fine. Go.”

  Charisma wanted to throw her hands up in the air and scream. Maybe she would stomp on his feet for good measure. Knowing she couldn’t do that and claim any semblance of adulthood or even sanity, she pasted the sweetest smile she could muster or her face and searched for every ounce of sugar for her next words. “Can I get you anything before I leave? Would you like to watch some TV?”

  He grunted in what might be considered a response, but which Charisma could neither interpret as positive or negative. She sighed, let the anger seep from her and pulled back the comforter.

  It was a king sized bed. She had splurged because she’d seen him tossing and turning in that ridiculous twin sized hospital bed for too many days. She thought he would enjoy the extra space, but right about now she was wishing she’d just asked for a regular cot. Without blankets or pillows, preferably. Charisma retrieved the remote control and filled a glass with water. She arranged the items neatly on the beside table, made sure the telephone and alarm clock where within easy reach and waited for Jared to make his move toward the bed.

  He made no such move. Instead he continued to sit on the chair, watching Charisma sullenly as she made her way around the room. She took a deep breath. As obnoxious as he had been, there was no way she could leave him sitting there like that. She crossed the room and held her arm out toward him. He took it reluctantly, abandoning his lovely new attitude for the moment.

  She helped him to the bed, sat him on the edge, arranged his pillows, leaned him back, swung his legs up onto the bed. When it was all said and done, she was as winded as he was. “How’s that?” she asked, pushing a chunk of dark hair behind her ear.

  She had fully expected another one of his pat high school answers, but instead she caught him watching her intently when he said, “It’s great. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” the response was automatic, complete with a smile and Charisma was almost angry that she had been willing to forgive him so quickly. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  He shook his head and tapped the bed beside him. “Just sit. Bet we can find something to watch.”

  Something about the grin in his eye and the dirty edge to his voice made Charisma blush and she muttered something about the depth of Pay-Per-View films. She settled herself on the bed next to him, leaning heavily into the pillows. A sigh slipped from her, closely followed by a suppressed yawn. This day had been just as long for her. This whole week had been long. Setting up court dates, reconciling with her mother, waiting for Jared to be released from the hospital. It had all taken its toll. The good news was it was all done, and from here it could only get better.

  She was about to voice that thought out loud, then ask for Jared to pass the remote when she felt his hand slip over hers. She almost jerked at his caress, it was so unexpected. He ran the pad of his thumb over the arch of her knuckles. She took a covert glance in his direction. His eyes were closed, his dark, spiky lashes rested against his skin, made him seem even more pale than he was.

  She let her hand tighten around his, and rubbed the pad of his thumb with hers. The television played the cyclic hotel channel, but neither Charisma nor Jared paid any attention to it all. Charisma willed her heart to stop beating so fast and let her eyes settle on Jared's.

  “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” Jared commanded, his grip tightening to the point of pain, his eyes hooded and indiscernible.

  Charisma bit her lip, winced inwardly and murmured softly, “I wont, I promise. I know I shouldn't have. I'm sorry-”

  But her words were cut short. In a valiant effort, not quite able to forget his broken ribs and injured arm, Jared leaned toward Charisma, lingering there in a familiar and encompassing tension. His mouth met hers, and she was surprised by the feel of his s skin on hers, the warmth and roughness, the tender way he sought her taste. Their lips played against each other softly, before becoming urgent in their purpose. Charisma let out the smallest of sighs. Of all her many kisses, none had been as perfect, as moving, as this one. It was everything they had been through and everything they had yet to do. His tongue slid along her lips, sending tingles all the way down the length of her spine.

  Desire welled within her, and she pressed her lips hard against his, her hand sliding up his shirt, under his sling, navigating as carefully as she could. Her hands danced across the breadth of his muscled chest, reveling in its raw maleness. Another sweet sigh escaped her and he smiled against her mouth.

  With passion and confidence she hadn’t known in years, maybe ever, she turned fully toward h
im, slipping one leg over him until she was comfortably repositioned astride him. It was all the encouragement he needed. With his single free hand, he tore at her blouse, unconcerned with the pearlized buttons, still interlocked in passionate, furious kisses. She would have never imagined they could be so intense, so richly laden with the shared hunger. She unbuttoned his shirt as well, her hands moving deftly and quickly down the front, and then smiled through the kisses as she helped him with hers, saving the few remaining buttons from an undetermined fate.

  She let her shirt fall from her shoulders, let his hand run over the expanse of smooth skin, the shapely flare of her hip and the trim indent of her waist. She could feel his hardness beneath her, and she pressed herself unashamedly against him.

  Jared groaned softly, skillfully unhooking her bra and escorting it from her body. He let his hand explore the newly exposed area, lingering on the shapely swells of sensitive skin.

  She unsnapped his sling and carefully, reeling in her breathing and willing her heartbeat to slow, placed his bad arm to his side, out of the way and with his body fully available to her perusal.

  “Don’t move it,” she whispered, interrupting the endless kiss for the quick command and a smile.

  “You're perfect,” was his only reply.

  She laughed quietly and leaned into him, careful not to put her full weight on his tender chest.

  She let herself slide next to him, pressing the length of her body against his. Jared rocked onto his side, wondering at how their bodies fit so perfectly together. He slipped his hand over her jeans, over her waist and her thighs. He ran a finger across her stomach and worked his way back up to her breasts, showering her body with light, playful touches; he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. The room was filled with the gentle sounds of pleasure as she placed gentle, seductive kisses on his neck, his collar, the line of his jaw.