by Karen Booth
Seven
Dinner at Sawyer’s wedding had been a test, and not merely because Michael’s date, Louise, had first needed convincing to return to the ballroom, only to complain extensively about the food. The sight line from Michael’s seat meant that he could see Charlotte and Gabe perfectly. He’d had to endure every smile, every instant their shoulders touched, every moment of conversation the pair shared. If Charlotte was putting on a show for his benefit, it was an award-winning performance. She seemed smitten.
Now that the meal had been served, the toasts had been made and the dancing was getting underway, Michael had had enough. He couldn’t watch them for another minute. And to think he’d been worried about Chad from Hunks with Trucks. This was far worse. Far. Worse.
Now they were flirting. She was giggling and throwing back her head, touching the lapel of Gabe’s jacket. It made Michael want to punch a wall, but only after placing Gabe’s face squarely in front of his fist. Charlotte glanced in his direction for an instant. The eye contact, the bolt of blue from twenty yards away, registered first in his chest. She knew he was watching and she didn’t care. If anything, she was enjoying it.
Louise grasped his chin and jerked his face to hers. “Are you seriously going to stare at Charlotte Locke again? Because if that’s what’s going on, I’m leaving. I already put up with it the entire time we were upstairs in the bar, and all through dinner.”
He shook his head and did everything he could to focus on Louise, but his eyes were drawn to Charlotte, and he couldn’t keep them trained where they were supposed to be, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not staring. If it seemed like I was, I wasn’t.” How lame an excuse could I possibly give?
“I’m serious, Michael. I would much rather be wearing a pair of yoga pants and drinking a glass of wine than standing in a stuffy wedding reception wearing a dress that I can hardly breathe in.” She ran her fingers along the lapel of his jacket. She leaned closer, putting her mouth perilously close to his ear. “Or, maybe we could go upstairs and you can help me get out of this thing.”
Normally, a proposition like that was a no-brainer. Except Michael’s conscience couldn’t let him do it. He couldn’t leave Charlotte alone with a creep like Gabe. She might think he was a nice guy, or funny or charming—the thought made him shudder—but Michael knew for a fact that Gabe was none of those things. He had to save his dear Charlotte. Even if she might stab him in the eye with a cake fork for doing it.
“You know. I gotta be honest. I really need to work the room. There are a lot of potential clients here and I’d be a fool to pass up a chance like this.”
Louise’s arms hung at her sides like she was carrying pails of water. It wasn’t a particularly flattering look. “You’re serious. You’re turning me down. Right here. Right now.”
He needed to end this. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you came to the wedding with me, but I just don’t think this is going to work out. I’m happy to call a car service to pick you up or pay for a cab.”
She huffed and held out her hand.
Okay, then. Michael fished his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her a fifty-dollar bill, which she sharply plucked from his fingers. Thank goodness they hadn’t kissed or anything more. Then he might worry about being arrested for this transaction.
“You’re a jerk. Just so you know.”
So I’ve been told. “I really am sorry. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
In a flash, the woman previously known as his date was gone. Now to get rid of Gabe. He marched over to Charlotte and placed his hand at the small of her back. “Hello, Charlotte. Would you like to dance?”
Gabe’s eyes nearly crossed. He stepped in front of Charlotte, physically keeping her out of arm’s reach. “Hold on a minute, Kelly. I’m with Charlotte. Back off.”
Charlotte peeked around Gabe. “Michael. What are you doing? Gabe and I are having a nice time.”
“Yeah,” Gabe muttered.
“But is he your date?” Michael was already fairly sure of the answer. He just wanted to hear it directly.
This time, Charlotte elbowed Gabe out of the way. “What if he was my date?”
Ah, the rhetorical question. As good as a real answer. “Then I’d tell you that I was surprised and that you are on a date with a bit of a snake.” He shot a look at Gabe. “No offense.”
“No offense? How am I supposed to be anything but offended by that?” Gabe countered.
“I call ’em like I see ’em. You’re always working an angle, Underwood. Something tells me Noah Locke won’t be too happy to find out you came to his brother’s wedding and proceeded to pick up his sister.”
“He didn’t pick me up. We were talking business.” Charlotte rolled her eyes.
“See? I didn’t pick her up. You can shove off, Kelly.”
“Not until I get an answer from Charlotte about that dance. If you aren’t picking her up, she’s free to dance with any man here. Those are the rules of wedding etiquette.”
“Maybe she just wants you to leave her alone.”
Charlotte shot Gabe a look that Michael had been on the receiving end of a few times. Michael knew from experience that it was not fun. “Enough. Stop. I’m going to dance with Michael because he asked. Then perhaps we can resume our conversation when I’m done.”
Michael knew a lot of things, but one thing he knew above all else—Gabe was not getting another shot at Charlotte while he was still breathing and still in this room. No way, no how.
“I was just trying to be chivalrous.” Gabe was backing down. Michael wished he’d slither back into whatever hole he’d come out of.
“That’s a nice idea, but I don’t need to be saved.”
What a reversal of fortune in a very short amount of time. Ten minutes ago, Michael was stewing in his own juices over being stuck with a woman he didn’t really care about, but who was preserving his ego. And now Charlotte had given Gabe the heave-ho.
“I don’t know that I have ever been more attracted to you,” he said. He cupped her elbow and pulled her to the dance floor.
“So you were serious about dancing? I thought you were just being an arrogant ass.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Of course I was serious. I wanted to dance with you.”
“Was it really me? Or was it more a case of buyer’s remorse over your date?”
Louise had been a mistake he was accustomed to making. He’d appraised her by the way she filled out a dress. He hadn’t considered much else. “She’s a nice girl. Just not right for me.”
Charlotte looked up into his eyes. It was so clear she was searching for more, it felt as if she was trying to pry open his soul, one of the more frightening prospects of time with Charlotte. There were no stones left unturned with her, no matter how hard he tried. “Is there such a thing? A woman’s who’s right for you?” she asked. The question was even heavier than the words. It felt as though it had lifelong implications.
He sighed and pulled her closer. He couldn’t handle another second of that probing look on her face. He wanted to enjoy this time with her, not endure it. “You’re the closest I’ve come.” He was surprised he could make the admission, but it was the truth. Charlotte hadn’t been the one, but that was only because he was certain there was no such thing. As a couple, they hadn’t been perfect together, but they’d been good, and he still wasn’t sure why good hadn’t been enough to make her happy.
“I suppose I should be flattered by that? I came the closest to cracking the mystery of Michael Kelly?”
“I’m not that hard to figure out, Charlotte. I’m really not.”
“You’re right. A dead-end road is pretty easy to decipher. At least you know where you stand.”
“What do you want me to say? That I regret our breakup? Because I do.” The air stood still for a mome
nt, and the song changed, but Michael wasn’t about to let go of her. If anything, he pulled her closer. He dropped his head toward hers as well, just to draw in her sweet fragrance.
“If you regretted it, why didn’t you try to fix it? Why didn’t you come after me?”
“You just told Gabe you don’t need to be saved.”
“I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have appreciated the gesture.”
Michael laughed quietly. He’d never understand the logic behind jumping through hoops for show, especially when you had a reasonable expectation that it wouldn’t pay off. “I thought about it, but the next thing I knew, you were in London. That seemed like a pretty obvious answer to me. I wasn’t about to go after you in England.”
“I always planned to come back.”
“Is that why you didn’t say goodbye?”
“I really didn’t think you cared enough to notice.”
Now the thought that had made him laugh seconds earlier only made him sigh. Should he have gone after her? Should he have fought for her? He’d never done it before and he wasn’t sure he had the wherewithal to double down on a relationship. You go after a woman, you beg her to take you back, that comes with expectations of commitment. At the very least, you open yourself up to conversations about where things are going and how things are going to work. He had so little confidence in love it was impossible to imagine ever doing that.
“I cared, Charlotte. I really did. However much you think I didn’t, I did.” Could he say what was waiting at the back of his throat and buried deep in his head? Was he really willing to start something with Charlotte again? She’d said point-blank the other night that there would be no kissing between them, that they had no business being together. So should he try anyway? It would be no easier the second time. If anything, knowing her, she’d make things harder. “And if it makes anything better, I made a mistake when I let you go. You have to believe me when I say that.”
* * *
Charlotte gazed up into Michael’s eyes, his words triumphantly ringing in her ears like church bells in a tower. I made a mistake when I let you go. She couldn’t decide which part of the statement she liked most, but there was a strong contender for first place. “A mistake?”
He nodded, not shying away from it. “I’m not an idiot. I can admit to it when I mess up. You were jumping the gun all that time we were together, but maybe I did the same thing.” He focused intently on her. “Maybe we need to switch to a lower gear and see where that takes us.”
Goose bumps raced up Charlotte’s arms. Michael’s voice had dipped to a deep, gravelly place that made her spine feel like it was made of rubber. His lips parted slightly. Hers mirrored the motion. She wished she could rewind the events of the other night and rescind the moratorium on kissing. “Have any thoughts? About where that should take us?” She knew very well what she was starting, but Michael’s admission that he’d made a mistake had her second-guessing every conclusion she’d ever reached about him.
The sexiest smile rolled across his face. “I have lots of thoughts, Charlie. Not sure I should say them out loud in the middle of your brother’s wedding reception. This is a fairly G-rated event.”
“So we should go somewhere more private?” She licked her lips in anticipation of what he might say next.
“You kill me when you do that, you know. The lick-lipping thing.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I do?” No one had ever squeezed so much coquettishness into two syllables before. She was proud of herself.
“Yes. It makes me feel left out.” His words made everything in her body go warm, a good ten-degree spike at least. “As for your suggestion that we go somewhere private, yes. I think that’s smart.”
Charlotte slyly glanced across the dance floor. Sawyer was too caught up in Kendall’s eyes to notice a thing. “Yes. Now.”
They walked double-time out of the ballroom and down the hall to the elevators. Charlotte’s mind was running on adrenaline, which was enough to make her feel drunk, even when she was stone-cold sober. Two more people joined them for the ride upstairs, meaning there could be no touching. Charlotte was dying. That kiss the other night had not been enough. It had taken her twenty-four hours to shake it off. She just wanted more of Michael, now. The other riders got off on the twelfth floor, but that didn’t give them much time. Charlotte flattened him against the wall of the elevator, popped up onto her tiptoes and pulled his lips down to hers. They hardly got started when the doors slid open.
“My place?” he asked, tugging her in that direction.
This had been an issue when they were together, but she didn’t have the strength to argue now. “Sure.” As they made their short trip, in the brief flashes when her brain was working, all she could think was that she should not be going to Michael’s apartment. Not now, when night had fully fallen and they had just spent too much time pressed against each other on the dance floor. The heat was still present from his hand in the curve of her lower back. The tingles were still there from that moment when he’d looked into her eyes and told her that he thought he might have messed up. But she couldn’t get past one burning question—had she been wrong about him?
“Drink?” Michael asked as he opened the door and they stepped inside.
Charlotte wandered over to the windows on the far side of his apartment, if only to steal a moment and make sure she really wanted this. “Just some water, thank you. I’ve had my fill.” She’d been drinking club soda with lime all night, but she hadn’t said a thing when someone suggested it might be a gin and tonic. She simply hadn’t let anyone get her a drink from the bar during the entire wedding. She’d gone so far as to sneak off for a champagne flute of ginger ale when it came time to toast.
“Good.” His voice was right behind her, and before she could turn around, his hands were on her shoulders and his body heat was once again pouring into hers. “I don’t want a drink, either.” His thumbs caressed her shoulders, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her arms.
Tiny zaps of electricity sizzled over the surface of her skin. She sensed what was coming and she knew that she should say no, but she didn’t want to. Michael was too much of a sexy, handsome package to deny herself any longer. Even when she worried that she might be nothing more than his prey, she was more than willing. She’d missed this so much. She wanted this with everything she had.
He dipped his head lower and his lips brushed her neck, his stubble scratching her. That sliver of pain put her on notice that this was happening. In the window, she could see their reflection. It was a dreamy shadow, hard edges smudged, dotted with raindrops on the glass. His hair fell forward as he kissed her neck, his mouth now open, his warm tongue making her lose her mind. It felt so good she wanted to close her eyes and languish in every heavenly sensation, but she loved watching him focus on her. For that moment, she seemed like she might be everything to him, precisely what she had once hoped to be.
He hooked his thumbs into her dress straps and pulled them down her shoulders. He gathered her hair in one hand and kissed his way across her back, sending waves of tingles along her spine. His lips weren’t just warm, they were on fire. His kiss was urgent. Like he needed to get somewhere. He pressed his long body against hers, his knees met the back of her thighs, his chest met her shoulders and what she could only guess was his rock-hard erection met the small of her back. She pushed right back into him, their bodies grinding against each other as she rolled her head to the other side.
“I want you,” she murmured, almost involuntarily. Michael’s presence tended to do that to her. Of course, he had no way of knowing that she meant a lot more than sex. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t want him for real. She didn’t want to think about how incapable he was of taking this as seriously as she did.
A rough groan left the depths of his throat. “That’s a very good thing,
Charlie. I’m not sure I could live through it if you didn’t.”
If only that was true. She pushed aside the thought as he unzipped her dress. The garment slid down her arms and slumped to the floor. She turned and reached for his arm to brace herself as she stepped out of the gown. She expected him to pull her into his arms as soon as she straightened, but he actually stepped back. His eyes were heavy with desire as they raked over the length of her body. Michael had a very big weakness for sexy lingerie. From the look on his face, the way his mouth went slack, her black bustier and panties, made of the finest French lace, had been a very smart choice for this evening.
“You’re so sexy. I don’t want to take my eyes off you.” He yanked at his tie and threw it on the floor as if he couldn’t stand the thing.
“Then don’t. Don’t take your eyes off me.” She floated next to him and pushed his coat from his shoulders, then untucked his shirt while he unsubtly peered down into her cleavage.
“Your breasts look incredible in that.”
She was about to say that he had no idea, but she’d let him figure that out for himself. Pregnancy had rounded out her endowments nicely. The truth was that she was far less concerned with what was under her clothes than what was under his. It had been months since she’d seen Michael naked and she didn’t want to waste another minute. Her fingers flew through the buttons of his shirt, no small task when he wouldn’t stop kissing her. How dumb she’d been that day when they’d walked the dogs and she’d told him to stop kissing her. Whatever heartache was waiting on the other side of Michael Kelly’s kiss was surely worth it.
The moonlight in the living room made the sight of his bare chest that much more beguiling. Shadows of blue, black and gold hit every carved ridge of his torso and abs. She pressed her palms against his chest and smoothed her hands over his muscles, which seemed to twitch beneath her touch. She drew in a deep breath and went for his belt. The clatter of metal played nicely against the moan that came from his lips as he kissed his way down her neck. With a pop and a zip, she let his pants drop to the floor. Then she made quick work of his boxer briefs.
