“Whoa. You don’t have to be so cold. Or is that for the audience?” He flipped a glance toward Storm.
A sickening sense of déjà vu rolled through her. Just as she’d suspected. He had an agenda. “Come on, Billy. I’m working. What do you want?”
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“I’m working,” she snapped.
“Looks like I’m the only customer.” His eyes narrowed.
“If you’re not here to eat, then leave.” She started to turn but he caught her elbow. Not in a harsh way, but enough that venom from his touch swirled through her arm. She pulled away. “You never miss an opportunity to cause a scene, do you?”
“Oh come on, baby. That’s no way to treat me,” he slurred. This early and he’d already indulged. She’d suspected for some time that he’d been hitting the bottle pretty hard.
“What do you want?”
He flinched at the harshness in her tone, but as always, he was a step ahead. “I’m not here because I want anything.”
“I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Looks like you could use a pot.”
He snickered. “Don’t give me a lecture, Charlie.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m not drunk and I haven’t been drinking.”
“The blood shot eyes are ruining your effort in lying,” she murmured.
“Hell, I had one beer. That’s not enough to get a kitten drunk.”
“Why bother trying to convince me? It’s none of my business.”
He raised a brow. “I want it to be your business again.”
“You’re always predictable. Do we need to go through this once a month?”
He nodded and she wondered if he agreed that once a month was necessary or did he understand her anger? She wondered if he’d ever get the point that they were over. “You’re not the only one who lost someone. I lost her too.”
Something crumbled within Charlie. She inhaled deeply, but it didn’t fix her inner turmoil. “You keep reminding me of that.”
“Because you keep forgetting.”
She chuckled, harsh to her own ears. “Trust me, there’s nothing about that which I can forget,” she whispered. She glanced over her shoulder. Storm had stopped what he was doing and he was watching them. He smiled and she attempted to return it. The last thing she needed was a stroll into her history here in front of him. She turned back to her ex. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
“I’m hoping you’ll eventually talk about it, Charlie. It wouldn’t hurt to talk.”
Charlie shook her head, tired of listening to this already. “Like I’ve told you many times before. There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s a lot to say.”
She swallowed hard. “If I needed a therapist to air my feelings to I’d hire one,” she growled.
He slid out of the booth, standing, swaggering. “I want to ease the pain. Like when we were younger. I know how you like it, sweetheart. I can make you feel good again.”
She felt sickened. “Why are you doing this?” she hissed through tight lips.
“Doing what?”
“This whole episode? This seems like a show, a spectacle, more than just a reason to have a conversation over something we can’t change.”
Her words seemed to catch him off guard. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I-I just…”
“Wanted to see who the stranger is staying at my house?” she whispered. Taking a peek at Storm, he was now standing at the counter, drinking from his water bottle.
Billy laughed, but it fizzled. “Well, since you mentioned him. Do you think it’s a good idea to have a stranger staying with you and Brent?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Since when?”
“Since you cheated on me with Phoebe and who knows who else.”
“Don’t do this.” He shook his head, sending a tuft of back hair onto his forehead. He looked a lot like he did back when she met him. But things had changed for them, and for her.
“Oh I see. You can come here and dish it out but you can’t take it. That’s just like you.” This time she didn’t bother keeping her voice low. It wasn’t as if Storm couldn’t hear.
“I guess you’re right.” Besides the slurring, she believed maybe, for the first time, she’d talked some sense into him. But then he let the bomb drop. “You’ll always be my business, sweetheart. I know I’ve made some of the biggest mistakes of my life, but I’ve changed. We belong together.”
“That part of my life is over.” Did he truly believe, in his heart, that she’d fall for his meaningless words again?
“Think long and hard.” He reached for her hand and she pulled away.
“Don’t do this, and especially don’t touch me.”
“Everything okay here?” Storm’s voice sounded from close behind her.
Charlie lifted her chin, meeting Storm’s gaze, seeing concern in his pale eyes. Embarrassment flooded her. Why did he have to witness this? To see into her baggage? It made her vulnerable somehow.
“We’re fine. This is a private conversation,” Billy slurred. Charlie saw a glint of anger brighten Storm’s eyes. Billy wrapped his hand around her wrist and she jerked her chin around, facing him.
“Stop, Billy,” she pleaded.
“We’re still talking so if you’ll excuse us.” Billy pointed at Storm, then waved a hand through the air.
She yanked her arm free. “You’re drunk. Go home. We’re closing.”
“Why do you always have to be so stubborn, Charlie?” His brow furrowed, his eyes turning dangerously dark. This wasn’t the old Billy.
“You need to leave, just as Charlie has asked nicely,” Storm said.
Billy looked beyond her, then back at her again. “Relax, cowboy. We’re just talking. Nothing to get your rope in a bunch about.”
“And right now, I’m just asking you to leave her alone.”
There was no misunderstanding the warning in Storm’s tone. No mistaking the testosterone passing in thick waves between them. Billy’s jaw clenched and Storm appeared calm and collected.
A bead of sweat rolled down Billy’s temple, yet he wasn’t backing down from the situation. He’d had enough liquid courage to not think things through clearly.
“Why don’t you mind your own business, fellow?” Billy blurted.
“I’m not asking any longer, fellow,” Storm put great emphasis on each word. “I’m telling you to walk away. Sleep off the drunk and maybe, if Charlie is willing, you can discuss what seems important.”
Billy blinked his bloodshot eyes. “Are you going to allow him to intervene like this?” His question was directed at Charlie.
She swallowed against the cotton-ball feeling in her throat. “He’s right, Billy. You’re drunk. This isn’t the time to talk.” She hoped he listened and walked away. Nothing good could come of this.
Now that she agreed with the cowboy, Billy snorted and shook his head, skimming his red-rimmed gaze over Storm. Charlie didn’t blame her ex. Although tall himself, Storm was at least two inches taller and had shoulders as broad as a linebacker. She’d guess he weighed at least two hundred pounds of nothing but lean, coiled muscle.
“Go along now, buddy,” Storm said, pointing at the door. “There’s no reason to make this harder.”
Billy didn’t even look at Storm. He stared at Charlie. “Does he know about Sunny?”
Her heart pounded and her hands turned clammy. “Don’t, Billy. This isn’t the time.”
“You have a hard time listening, don’t you, Billy?” All understanding faded from Storm’s tone. He wasn’t as calm now.
Stunned at how fast things were getting out of hand, and not wanting Billy to get hurt, she did what she thought was best. “Please, leave. Call me tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
A long three seconds floated by until Billy pushed a hand through his hair, messing it into tangles, then nodded. He appeared defeated. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
She watched Billy walk out
of the diner and disappear on the snow covered road.
“I think he’s a bit angry,” Storm said.
“That’s probably an understatement. I’d say he’s down right pissed.”
“Does he drink like that often?”
She sighed and turned to Storm. “It gets worse every year,” she admitted.
“Sorry to hear.” Storm rolled his hand down his jaw.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Intervening. I think he drank his brain cells under the table today. He certainly wasn’t thinking.” She cast a quick glance through the window just to be sure he was gone. “Pops usually deals with him and it never progresses to this.”
“How about I make you a cup of coffee. And I hear the brownie pie here makes everything better.” His sweet smile seemed to turn her blood into syrup.
Surprising even herself, she burst out into laughter. “Whomever gave you that bit of information is a genius.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Have a seat, ma’am, and let me take care of you.” He rolled his hand through the air, motioning for her to sit in the booth where Billy had been sitting. She didn’t argue, didn’t much feel like it. Once he said he’d take care of her, she couldn’t resist. She sat and stared out of the window.
Storm came back, set the plate and cup in front of her. “Thank you,” she offered him a smile.
“I didn’t do anything except put it on the plate and pour the coffee. A pretty woman I know did all of the hard work.” His gaze twinkled and snatched up every bit of her logical thinking.
“You’re too kind.”
“I can listen if you’d like to talk.”
She poured a good amount of sugar and creamer into the coffee. “What’s there to say?”
He shrugged. “What does he want to talk about? Getting you back? That subject tends to make men act foolishly.”
After a heartbeat, she sighed. “He says he wants me back, but when we were together things just didn’t work like they should have.”
“Liquor and relationships don’t mix,” Storm said.
“Cheating put a chink in the chain too.” She rolled the tip of her finger along the rim of the cup, looking into the swirling liquid that reminded her of the emotions spinning inside of her.
“He’s one of those, huh?”
“One of those what?” Asshole? Jerk?
“A stupid fool.” He leaned back into the booth, stretching his legs, his knee brushing hers. A jolt of electricity fired up her leg, but he seemed unaffected. “I never understood why a man cheated when he had the world at home. Were you and Billy married?”
She shook her head so fast that her hair fell from her bun. She tucked a strand behind her ear. “Would that make a difference if he cheated?”
“Not at all.”
“Heaven’s no, we were never hitched. He didn’t ask and I wouldn’t have said yes.” Blowing a breath through her lips, she decided she had nothing to hide from. “Billy and I were a couple in high school and through college. I got pregnant and things really went downhill after Sunny was born.” The mention of her daughter’s name erupted all sorts of emotions within Charlie. Some joyful and happy, others sad and overwhelming. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about her daughter in a long time.
“Harvey mentioned her. I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER SIX
Usually, Storm would keep his nose where it belonged—on the center of his face. Yet there was nothing normal about how he was feeling or the unique woman sitting across from him. Hell, he’d observed scene after scene of arguing couples and eventually things worked themselves out. But as he’d stood back watching Charlie and her ex, something had unleashed within Storm that he couldn’t ignore—didn’t want to either—especially when the belligerent man had grabbed Charlie’s elbow. Storm was raised to believe that a man never, ever, laid a hand on a woman in anger. No matter what. Seeing Charlie manhandled had driven through Storm. Then he’d reacted without thinking.
Luckily, things hadn’t turned physical and Billy had left, or rather staggered out of the diner. Storm hadn’t been worried about things escalating. He could have taken the drunk, one handed and blindfolded, but Charlie didn’t need to witness that unsavory action. That’s why he’d held back on intervening, not wanting to make things worse for her in the long run.
She sat staring into her cup as if all the answers were written in the coffee.
“I’m sorry you were dragged into all of this,” she said sheepishly.
He shrugged. “Glad I could help.” Her eyes were an unusual green color—bottle green. They seemed to change with her mood, darker or lighter. The left was marred by a brown freckle in the iris. Her soft voice made him think of a soothing song, one he’d like to write. She tucked tendrils of hair behind her ear, and he noticed how her fingers trembled. Was she nervous over Billy? Or something more? “I hope I didn’t make things worse.”
Her smile was genuine and made his gut tighten and shift. Her face washed with a lovely pink. Wonder what color her cheeks turned when she was made love to? Orchid pink? No, he’d guess cherry blossom.
“No, you didn’t. It’s done, at least for today. He probably won’t call tomorrow. He might even forget what took place here today. I think that makes the entire situation more unbearable. He doesn’t realize the havoc he leaves in his wake. It’s hard to talk about.”
“If you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to.”
She sighed and he thought he heard relief in it. She took her time, moistening her lips. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was scared to death of being a mom. I fretted about everything, but thankfully my dad reassured me that all new parents feel the same worry. He told me over and over that everything would be all right. Once my little girl was placed into my arms, I knew he was right. I fell in love with her, everything about her. Her dark, wavy hair. Her coal eyes. The way she whimpered when I could tell she wanted to belt out a strong cry. We were close. She was my world. I swore her smile could brighten any gloomy day.” She laughed, but it fizzled as sadness crawled across her features making the air leave his lungs. “She was five. She’d just started kindergarten and she loved being near friends, learning, exploring. That particular evening, she was sitting at the table, eating, and the next thing she was vomiting and feverish. I gave her a fever reducer and she fell asleep. A few hours later she woke up, unable to breathe, complaining of a horrible headache. I wrapped her in a warm blanket and drove her to the hospital. Took us forever in the snow. Once we got there, they whisked her away…” Tears slid down her cheeks and she swiped them away. “That was the last time I ever saw her alive.” Her gaze drifted to the window.
“What happened?”
“Bacterial meningitis. I had no clue. I thought it was the flu. It was so fast.” Her soft voice was ravaged with pain. “I put my baby to bed. If only I’d known…” Her voice quivered.
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to work. “The flu is much more common than bacterial meningitis.”
She tilted her chin in a bravery that her eyes didn’t agree with. “I’ve asked myself a thousand times…what if I’d taken her to the hospital when I first saw the symptoms? What if I hadn’t assumed she wasn’t in any danger? Would she be alive today? It’s my fault. I was here to protect her.” Her chest rose and fell heavily.
Before he thought over his action, he reached across the table and laid his hand on hers. Her fingers were cold and the shaking remained. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but would she push him away? Instead, he stayed seated, his heart filling with compassion. “You can’t blame yourself.”
She shrugged, “I’ve heard that from everyone—doctors, Pops, friends—but I was her mother. She was my responsibility. I-I had no clue.” She rubbed her eyes. “It’s been years, but it seems like centuries since I held her.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
Her chin came up, a bead of moisture remained on her eyelashes. “You’re not go
ing to tell me I should move on?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No one has the right to tell you to do something you’re not ready for. I was going to say that Billy doesn’t seem like he’s making this any easier.”
“This time of the year is hard for me. I lost her on New Year’s Day.”
His throat narrowed. What could he say? He had no idea of the pain she’d suffered. He studied her features silently, admiring how strong she would have to be to survive the pain of losing a loved one. A child. A strand of hair coiled at her ear and he noticed the diamond stud in her earlobe. She rolled the earring back in restless energy. He skimmed his gaze over her short, pale nails, along slender, long fingers to her wrist and further over her arm—arms that he wanted wrapped around his shoulders.
“Yogi was her dog,” she said in a whisper soft voice and he brought his gaze back to her face. “He would cuddle up with her at night, watching over her as if he knew of the danger coming. After she was gone, he would still lay at the bottom of her bed, then eventually he gave up.” The tears started again.
Damn, he was grateful he hadn’t hit the dog last night. He couldn’t begin to imagine how hard Charlie would have taken Yogi’s death. “You were young when you had Sunny.”
She nodded. “I was finishing up my four-year degree and had planned to go on to law school. I’d told myself I would have Sunny then resume my plans, but I became busy being a mother.” Her mouth twisted as if she held back emotion. “I had to pay the bills and wasn’t quite ready to work here full-time, so, I took a quick course in veterinary assistance and well, you know the rest.”
“Why haven’t you gone back? To law school? It’s never too late to follow your dreams.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it slump. “The planets just haven’t been aligned. And the dream just faded. Believe it or not, I’m okay here in Palms. You know, I couldn’t do anything for a long time—could barely breathe—the first year after she passed. I wasn’t quite honest when I told you I quit at the vet’s office because of Pops. I actually didn’t get out of bed for a while, didn’t eat much, some days nothing at all, and I wanted to die.” She brought the cup to her mouth and sipped.
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