“I hope it works out, too. He’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
“So, new distiller is the ex of your new girlfriend. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too.” Dean just shook his head and headed to the distilling room to get ready for the day. He was grateful that he’d partnered with two guys who were so easy to work with. They all gave one another shit, but they first had one another’s backs. It would be interesting to see how John fit in, or if he even did.
A few minutes later, the man himself stepped into the distilling room.
“Morning,” John said.
“Hey, glad you’re here. I was just getting started.”
“Great. Um, before that, I wanted to say something.” John shoved his hands into his pockets, obviously trying to not fidget. “I just want you to know that I would totally understand if you’d like to change your mind about this. I mean, I appreciate you standing by your word, but—”
Dean put up a hand. “Listen, thanks for the offer, but we’re good.” John relaxed, his shoulders slumping. Dean continued, telling him what he’d told his co-workers a few moments before. “I let Charlotte make that call, and she wanted you to have the chance to see how this goes.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. She’s.…” He stared at the ground a moment, and then looked back up to Dean. “She’s really something. You’re lucky you have her. I mean it. Don’t make the same mistake I did and let her get away.”
Dean inhaled deep, nodding slowly. So, maybe this whole thing might be even more awkward than he’d thought.
Twenty
It was Thursday, only five days since Charlotte had been inside the Stag for Shelby and Jason’s wedding. But in that short amount of time, everything had changed. This no longer felt like the same safe, welcoming space it had always been. The full impact of having John back in her life was starting to really show itself.
She and Dean had texted and spoken on the phone several times over the past couple days, and although she’d asked him how things with John were going, he hadn’t offered her much information other than that they were moving forward with hiring John.
But mostly he’d given vague responses. Maybe he thought he was being considerate of her feelings. Or maybe it was just a guy thing not to elaborate on work stuff.
Secretly she’d kind of hoped Dean had realized that it wasn’t going to work out for whatever reason. It was apparent that wasn’t the case as she made her way to the back of the building. The glass enclosing the distilling room revealed Dean and John cleaning up a giant mess on the floor with a hose and a squeegee. They were also laughing.
She stood there in the middle front lobby area, watching them for a long moment. How long had it been since she’d seen John laugh that way? Certainly not the last few months of their relationship. Those had been filled with his looks of concern. Concern for her because she hadn’t handled the loss of their pregnancy well. The only thing that had kept her going was their impending wedding.
Suddenly John turned his head and looked right at her. Standing straight, he gave her a smile. She reciprocated quickly and waved. When she looked over at Dean he was watching her. As soon as their eyes locked he crooked his finger, beckoning her to come in.
She did, heading off toward the side hall, through the back warehouse, and into the distilling room.
“Hey you,” Dean instantly said. They hadn’t discussed how they’d greet each other in John’s presence, but thankfully Dean walked right over, wrapped a hand around her waist, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the lips. That definitely helped her insecurities about being here.
“What happened in here?” she asked when he pulled away. The entire floor around the stainless-steel masher was covered with a mealy brown substance.
“Basically Dean turned his back on the newb for half an hour and I messed up,” John said.
“Honest mistake. The machine can jam fairly easily if you don’t keep an eye on it. Jake and I cleaned up a similar mess just a couple weeks ago.”
Charlotte smiled. These two seemed to get along well. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s my fault,” John said quickly.
Thankfully Dean looked at her and pointed to the wall. “Actually, would you mind pulling that hose down and handing it to me?”
“Of course.” For some reason it pleased Charlotte that he asked for her help. As if they were a team, and he needed her. She handed him the hose then followed his instructions to turn the water on so he could wash the residue down a drain on the floor. They had plans to meet a DJ in the conference room any minute, so when she was finished she headed back out to the lobby to wait on him.
As soon as she got to the hallway, an arm grabbed her.
Turning, she found herself looking up into John’s face. She jerked her arm from his grasp and sent a panicked look toward the mouth of the hallway. She definitely didn’t want Dean to find John touching her like that.
“I’m sorry, I just … you didn’t hear me over the water.”
“It’s okay.” She stepped back a space. “Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to say … thank you. While I had the chance.”
Charlotte heard the hose turn off and glanced toward the hallway entrance, but no one appeared. “Thank you? For what?”
“For not insisting Dean change his mind about me. So far I really like this job, but I know you’d have had every right to not want me here.”
Considering her words, Charlotte paused. “It was a shock, I’ll admit that. But I also want Dean to have the help he needs, and … I know you’ll enjoy this job. You’ve always been a hard worker.”
He nodded and Charlotte turned to go, but not before he caught her one more time, his fingers gripping her arm. “Next week is the twelfth.”
She froze, and then slowly pulled her arm from his fingers. “Don’t. Please. I can’t talk about this with you.”
“Every year, Charlotte … every year I think of you.”
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes, which were pinched and full of sadness. Some deep and instinctual part of her almost longed to fall against him and cry. But she was stronger than that. It had been five years and he’d proven himself unworthy of her emotions.
There was nothing to say so she just turned away and kept walking to the front of the building. She headed straight for one of the sofas and sat down to try to collect her thoughts. Moments later she heard footsteps, and then two strong arms wrapped around her from behind the couch’s low back.
“Hey. Everything okay?” Dean whispered in her ear. Instinctively her body exhaled and she leaned back into his embrace. This felt right.
“Of course. Why do you ask?” Charlotte reached up and laid her hand on his forearm. He was so warm, his muscles so strong.
“Did he say something to upset you?”
“No. He was basically just thanking me for not telling you to boot his ass out.”
Dean laughed, but his look of concern didn’t go away. “Charlotte, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here.” He turned his head and kissed her temple.
“I’m not uncomfortable here,” she replied. “Especially not right now.” She ran her hand up and down his arm.
“You sure?”
She turned to look into his eyes. “I promise.”
He finally nodded and then stood upright. With a sigh, Charlotte followed him into the offices, but not before glancing over to the distilling room. It was empty.
Todd, the DJ they were meeting with, showed up a few moments later. Dean greeted him by the reception area and then brought him back to the conference space. Charlotte recognized him immediately. Although she didn’t know him that well, they’d definitely been at weddings together before. Unfortunately, she shot so many, it was hard to recall if she liked someone. The two DJs who would have been her top picks were both unavailable on their date, which hadn’t surprised her at all.
Dean mot
ioned for Todd to have a seat and then sat down right next to Charlotte. He grabbed her hand under the table, gave it a squeeze, and sent her a quick wink. Smiling back, she listened intently as Todd proceeded to tell them a little about himself and his business—which was rather new. Nothing wrong with that, everyone had to be new at some point—but Charlotte could tell within moments that he was pretty inexperienced. However, they didn’t have a lot of options, and his newbie status was reflected in his pricing, which worked with their budget.
After that he asked them to fill out a questionnaire.
“I know it’s a little silly, but I think it helps me get to know my couples’ style and preferences, and also gets ideas going on song choices.”
“Oh … okay.” Dean took the papers and handed one to Charlotte. She wondered why he didn’t mention that they weren’t the couple, but decided to keep her mouth shut.
She sat up straight and looked down at the first question. What is one of your favorite songs from high school?
She heard Dean chuckle and then he looked over at her. “This should be fun,” he whispered. Fun, yes, and she was really going to have to think on some of these. They worked on their answers in silence for a bit. The questions were all obviously geared toward Todd creating the ideal playlist for the bride and groom. Charlotte almost stopped them and reminded Dean that their answers were irrelevant, but since the real couple was half a world away, and she was really curious about Dean’s answers, she just proceeded. When Todd asked for directions to the restroom, and then exited the room, Dean leaned over her shoulder.
“What do you have down for number six?”
Charlotte hadn’t gotten that far yet, but she glanced down at her paper. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would it be?
“Oh, I know instantly. Easy for me, but you tell me yours first.” She leaned toward him just as he slapped a hand over his paper.
“Really?” Charlotte said, laughing. “We’re hiding answers now?”
She reached out and peeled his hand off the paper before tilting in to read his boxy man handwriting. “Led Zeppelin. Nice. Can’t go wrong with Page and Plant.”
Dean’s eyes widened.
“Does it surprise you I know their names? Or that I know classic rock at all? I’ll have you know that Lauren and I don’t go on a road trip without their fourth album. I know all the words to ‘Going to California.’”
“I apologize, then.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. When his finger reached out and brushed her leg, it seemed to Charlotte that he did it without even thinking. “You constantly surprise me, Charlotte.”
“I hope so,” she said. It was her turn to lean in, and she swore he came a little closer.
“Your turn to answer,” he said.
“Easy. ABBA. You might have guessed from my ringtone.”
Dean let his head drop forward for a moment, obviously amused. When he looked up at her he was grinning. “What is your obsession with ABBA?”
“I’ve just always loved them, ever since I was little and my mother would play their records while she cleaned the house. I think she always wished she was Agnetha Fältskog.”
“Is that the blonde or the brunette?” Dean asked. His chair rolled closer, their faces now a couple of feet apart, and his hand gently grabbed hers. He held on to her forefinger, and Charlotte sucked in a quick breath.
“Agnetha is the blonde, and my answer to the first question on the paper, what is your favorite song from high school, is ‘Dancing Queen.’ Definitely not popular with the rest of my high school, but it was with me. I listened to it all the time.” He watched her as she spoke, his fingers interlacing with hers. She loved this new intimacy with him, the way he casually touched her, like he had every right to do so. “My freshman year we went to New York as a family and saw Mamma Mia! on Broadway. My fan-girling hit an all-time high after that. I was … obsessed, as you so sweetly put it.”
He squeezed their palms together. “Wow. I never would have guessed. You should talk to Jen. She sings show tunes constantly. Drives us all crazy.”
“Really? I’ve heard her singing while she worked, but didn’t realize she was into musical theater.”
He nodded. “She even works at a place teaching kids or something.”
Todd came through the door and they quickly unlocked their hands and adjusted their seats back toward the table.
“How we doing?” Todd the DJ’s grin was a little obnoxious, and his enthusiasm was slightly manufactured, but he was trying. And weren’t all vendors playing a part to an extent as they met with potential clients? She completely understood, because you didn’t always feel “on,” but you had to sell yourself anyway. Charlotte figured as long as he had the right equipment—which he appeared to have—and a decent personality, then he would do.
She gave Dean a slight nod and they proceeded, giving him what they’d finished on their questionnaires and then taking care of the final details like time, down payment, and contracts. When it was all finished, Dean saw Todd to the door.
There were so many reasons for her to be happy right now. It was finally summer, she was dating the man she’d lusted after for years, and she had enough work to keep her busy for the next year.
But as John had reminded her, the saddest day of the year was just around the corner.
* * *
After seeing the DJ to the front door, Dean headed back toward the offices. He inhaled deep and blew out a breath. Right now he was fighting the urge to go back into the conference room, shut and lock the door, and spread Charlotte out on the table like a sacrifice. Or maybe an idol to worship.
That’s what this woman did to him.
Hearing her conversation with John in the hallway—seeing them talking that close—had made him worried and a little jealous. He’d heard enough to know there was something between them that he wasn’t aware of. Part of him wanted to ask, but a bigger part of him just wanted her to tell him. This relationship thing they were trying was new, not yet to the point of revealing secrets, but he suddenly wished it was. If he wanted her to open up, they needed to spend more time together.
“One more thing to check off the list, right?” Charlotte announced when he walked into the conference room.
“Absolutely. Feels good to have that finished. So what’s left?”
Charlotte pulled out her planning notebook and flipped through a few pages. Instead of sitting down close to her, he leaned his hands on the table.
“So, we’ve got our venue, obviously. Bar service arranged, catering, flowers, the cake, and now the DJ.”
“And … you, right?”
“Of course. Me. Photographer. I’m also still planning on handling the reception decorations, but what’s going on with the dress? Do we know?”
“Oh … damn. No. I’d completely forgotten about that.”
“About the dress?” she teased. “It’s only very, very important.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Just slipped my mind.” Or more than likely he pushed anything that had to do with Amy into the back of his thoughts on purpose. “I’ll just text and see what’s going on.”
Dean grabbed his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his message threads. Amy’s name was near the bottom, which wasn’t a surprise. The last time they’d texted was probably the day Alex left for her deployment.
DEAN: Any luck with the dress?
She replied immediately.
AMY: Yes! I found it. Ordered it last week and put it on my credit card. You can just pay me back.
DEAN: How much?
AMY: Don’t be mad …
AMY: The minute I saw it I knew it was perfect for our girl. When you see it you’ll agree.
“This isn’t sounding good,” Dean muttered.
“What? Why?” Charlotte scooted to the edge of her seat.
DEAN: How much?
AMY: $1700
“Holy shit.” Dean let his arm drop as he sank down to sit on t
he edge of the table.
“What is it?” Charlotte instantly rose from her chair and stepped up to face him. With him seated so high they were eye-to-eye, and on instinct he parted his legs and she stepped between them, laying on a hand on his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“The friend picking out Alex’s dress…”
“Yes?”
“It’s my ex-wife.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her eyes lowered to stare at his chest. She’d been mindlessly fidgeting with a button on his shirt, but when her hand began to slide away from him, Dean reached up and stilled it. Her eyes came back up to his. “That’s nice that you can remain friends.”
“No, Charlotte, it’s not like that. We aren’t enemies, but we are not friends.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “Okay.”
She appeared to be processing everything he’d just said, and Dean realized that he needed to clear this all up. He’d just been wishing she would share more about herself; this was his chance to set the tone. She deserved to know.
“When my mother and Alex’s father passed, Alex was only thirteen. Amy and I … well, we basically became her parents after that. The two of them are close, and although I have no wish to have a relationship with Amy, I can’t deny that to my little sister. Not when she has no other family.”
“I understand. That makes sense.” Charlotte smiled at him, and the relief he felt was palpable. “I’m glad you told me.”
“I should have told you sooner.”
She shrugged. “We’re seeing what happens, remember? You told me now. That’s what matters.”
Dean sighed with relief. “You’re pretty amazing. You know that?”
Her lips parted into a smile, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead she was busy watching her hand slide up his chest and then skim along his neck. Dean shivered, couldn’t help it. When she stepped closer, her breasts meeting his body, her pelvis aligning with his own, he lifted his palms to settle on her hips.
“I’m glad you think so. But do you know what I think is amazing?” she purred, leaning into his neck. The minute her lips found the stubble under his jaw, Dean dropped his head back.
Maybe I Do Page 20
