He watched her smile at the memory. “But we don’t have that, Mom.” He shook his head. “And it doesn’t even matter. I can’t understand why I’m thinking this way. If I look at this logically, it makes sense. It’s time to marry. That much we agree on. Dating is a nightmare. I know this firsthand. She makes me feel… different, better. And she wants to settle down with a man with money. With a strong prenup to hedge against the odds that she’ll move on when she gets bored, there’s no reason not to move forward.”
“Of course, you aren’t sure she’ll say yes,” Willodean said with an arched brow. “She is a smart girl.”
He nodded.
“Here’s my only piece of advice, Charlie. If you want her, pursue her. You can think about your criteria and how she matches up to that list, but if you want to be happy, you try to figure out how to be more than a bank account to her. Love, sometimes it’s instant and a thunderbolt,”—she narrowed her eyes at him as he started to interrupt her—“but sometimes it’s just a snowball that grows and gathers speed as it builds. You just figure out how to be a gift to her every day, and I’d say you have as good or better chances of making it stick as anyone I know.”
“A gift, huh?”
Willodean waited for him to meet her stare. “And not an electric blanket, you hear me?”
They both laughed and he stood, offered her a hand, and pulled her up. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her keys. “Think you can pass these along to Grace tonight?” Willodean blinked innocently up at him. “It would save me the long trip over to the staff apartments.”
Charlie shook his head. “Why does Grace need your car keys? Again?” He tossed them up and caught them in the air.
“She’s headed over to meet with Mike, my interior decorator, tomorrow. He’s got some catalogs, things for her to look at while she’s shopping for the conference rooms.” Willodean tilted her head. “You aren’t still worried she’ll head for Sin City at her first opportunity, are you?”
Charlie leaned his head back to consider the question. “No, I guess not.”
Willodean’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, now that’s some kind of progress, isn’t it?” She pursed her lips. “You might need to worry just a little that she’ll meet Mike and decide he’s more her style.”
“Your interior decorator?” He didn’t feel that threatened at the idea.
“Maybe you ought to talk to KT about how much of a worry Mike would be.” Willodean shook her head. “He’s a hottie.”
Creeped out at the idea of his mother calling anyone a hottie, Charlie decided it was time to leave. He tossed the key ring again and then leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Good night, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She walked him to the door and waved as she closed it behind him. As he got on the elevator, Charlie felt lighter, more… positive than he had in a while. They’d cleared the air. His mother didn’t blame him or resent him. They still didn’t see eye to eye about Grace, though.
Of course they didn’t. Willodean Jackson accepted people with all their quirks and flaws, and something about her made them better. He’d seen it a million times. And he expected perfection, in himself and, if the rest of the world would just follow orders, everyone else too. Always had. Even when he’d been a little boy and he wasn’t even sure what was going on after his father died and Willodean worked all hours to make the rent, he’d been certain he could control things, make them work. When he’d started making his own money, thanks to his stepfather, everything had solidified for him. Making money and a lot of it was the only control he could have. So he’d done that. But now that victory wasn’t enough to satisfy him.
He shoved the keys in his pocket as he walked through the lobby. One quick glance at the front desk showed him Tony was already on duty. They exchanged cautious chin nods and he walked on. He didn’t know what he would say to Grace, but he was happy to have an excuse to see her. He had a bad feeling his mother’s suggestion about efficiently snapping up Grace would keep him up all night long. He’d worry about that after he told her good night.
WHEN SHE HEARD the knock on the door, Grace lurched up to sit on the side of the bed. She’d been working on her laptop the last she remembered. She rubbed her cheek to try to erase any evidence that she’d fallen asleep on top of the papers she’d printed out to study. Before she’d fallen asleep.
As she yanked open the door, Grace ruffled her limp ponytail. Charlie raised an eyebrow, and she wished she’d taken just a minute to check a mirror.
“Did I wake you?” He pointed at the door. “You should really check to see who it is before you open the door, you know.”
“No. And yes.” And if she’d been awake, she would have. “What’s up?” After the way he’d left, she was surprised to see him. And without an armed escort too.
Charlie fished in his jeans pocket and pulled out a key ring. “I brought these.” Grace scooped them from his open hand and felt the flash of warmth that she hadn’t quite gotten used to.
“Thanks.” She leaned against the door and fiddled with the doorknob. “I appreciate you bringing them… or maybe just following Willodean’s orders anyway.” She tried a small smile. “Guess she hasn’t quite given up.”
“Willodean Jackson never gives up. Believe that.” The look in Charlie’s eyes was warm, teasing, and Grace couldn’t help but laugh. And for a long moment after that, they didn’t move. The connection snapped into place, and Grace couldn’t have turned away from him if she’d wanted to. She didn’t want to, no matter how much she told herself she should. Finally, Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted back and forth. “Listen, I wanted to say…”
Bracing herself for the worst, Grace crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m glad you told me. About Tommy Joe and your wedding.” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s the weirdest thing. I knew something was off, but I didn’t want to hear it. Because I feel this…”
“Connection.” Grace bit her lip, her nerves making it hard to breathe. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“So what do we do?” Charlie’s voice was rough, like it was a struggle to ask the question.
“You don’t know?” Grace tried to beat down the flutter of relief and… she refused to call it hope. So he didn’t hate her. He might even be as confounded by the instant connection between them as she was. But so what? None of that changed his opinion or her fear. “That’s got to be a first, right? Charlie McMinn doesn’t have the answer.”
Charlie sighed. “Here’s the thing. When you aren’t around, I can tell myself that whatever we have couldn’t possibly feel the way I think it feels. Because it doesn’t make sense. We don’t have any of the things that I’d say make people work, at least not on paper, but then you’re around and you make me feel…” He broke off and thought about it. Finally he screwed up his face and muttered, “Good. You make me feel good.”
He said it like he’d just admitted an embarrassing secret.
“I think I know exactly what you mean.” She stepped out and hissed as her feet hit the cold sidewalk. She leaned up to hug his neck. “The good thing is we don’t have to figure it out tonight, Charlie. Maybe we could just… take it one day at a time.”
When she moved to step back into her warm apartment, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Aware she was standing at a crossroads, a very cold place with no shoes on, Grace fought an internal battle. She should step away, but as she tilted her head up and stared at his face, she couldn’t.
“Tell me not to, Grace.” He leaned closer to her, his body a warm comfort on the cold night. And it was the easiest thing in the world to touch her lips to his. Charlie’s chest was a hard, warm pressure against hers, his legs wrapped hers and all she could think of was how safe she felt, how comfortable. Until his mouth moved against hers. And his hand slid down over the soft knit covering her hip. Then he shifted, one leg slipped between hers while his tongue teased inside her lips and she was
pretty sure she could stay right here until…
The door to Tony and Randa’s apartment opened and bright light spilled out over them.
“Oh, God. Uh, sorry…” Randa slammed the door and inched around them. “I’m just headed over to…” And then she was gone.
Charlie leaned his forehead against hers and took a slow breath before he stepped back. When his hands slipped away, she wanted to grab them, squeeze them, pull them back to where they… belonged?
“So that was unexpected.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced in a small circle.
Grace shifted from one freezing foot to the other. “Yeah, so…”
They looked at each other, and then Charlie shook his head. “Go back inside. You were asleep. I’m sorry I woke you. Have a good shopping trip tomorrow.” But he didn’t leave.
Grace slowly shook her head. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep now.” She grinned at him and touched her mouth with one hand. Surely she looked different now. “Maybe I’ll actually get the laundry done that I meant to do before I sat down to read about catering setups.” She covered her lips with one finger. “But don’t tell Willodean. I’m already supposed to take Friday off because I’ll be working the Saturday weddings. If she finds out I’m working at night, who knows what perk she’ll force on me?”
He nodded. She was a little disappointed. She wanted a laugh. “I guess I should go. You should definitely get inside. If you catch a cold, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Grace wondered if either of them would ever hear the end of being caught in a first kiss right outside the apartment door, but she didn’t say it aloud. If he hadn’t thought of that, she wasn’t going to bring it up.
“You could come in.” As soon as she said it, Grace wondered what she was thinking. He should definitely not come in, not before she figured out what she wanted with Charlie. That kiss… it was proof that their connection could go nuclear at the right moment.
There was no coming back from something like that. They’d have to go all the way to meltdown to escape their connection if they had sex. But just the idea of never having sex with Charlie after that kiss… that was a heartbreaker.
“You could help me do laundry.” She raised her eyebrows just to see if he’d laugh.
When he exhaled a small laugh, she felt the link between them tighten.
“Maybe not.” He raised a hand. “Good night. I’ll… catch up with you… later.” Then he turned and left. Grace leaned against the doorjamb to watch him until he disappeared and then she slowly shut the door. She shivered and then leaned forward to thump her head against the door.
“Grace, what are you doing?” She rolled her head and laughed. Best first kiss ever with the worst possible match. Why didn’t that surprise her?
“Laundry.” When she thought about what she could have been doing if Charlie was a different sort of guy, the one who’d ignore his own alarms and follow her in, laundry seemed an even worse insult.
But it had to be done. And it would give her plenty of time to figure out just what she was doing with him. Maybe.
Chapter Seven
* * *
“CHARLIE, I���D LOVE to hear about your goals. Where do you think you’ll be in five years?” Dr. Karen Bennett leaned back against her chair and smiled in her clinically curious way. He’d been wondering about that smile all night. Was it the only one she had? It made him feel like there was a clock ticking somewhere but he couldn’t see it. That might be something he would talk to a psychologist about if they were in a session, not seated across from each other in a nice Italian restaurant lit only by the glow of candles. Romantic. But not the way he and Karen did it.
He told himself she was perfect. Beautiful in a very refined sort of way with cool blonde hair, light blue eyes, and flawless posture outlined by a fine gray knit top and pants. She was trim and her jewelry was understated silver.
The overall impression was… blah. He wondered if gray was her signature color.
Then he looked down at his black shoes, black pants, and black tie and figured they were at least in the same color family.
He had a good feeling the idea of having a signature color, gray or not, would get him another noncommittal hum.
He picked up his coffee cup and willed the dessert to come faster. “Well, I guess . . . I don’t expect a great deal to change. I like Newport. I like my house and enjoy working only for myself.” He took a sip of coffee and watched her wait for him to continue. The silence was a bit unnerving. He’d already asked her for her favorite movie, music, book, color, and whatever else under the sun that he could think of just to avoid these tense pauses. “I would like to have a family, maybe two kids, and a nice, stable relationship.”
Karen leaned back as the waiter deposited two crème brûlées on the table and refilled their coffee cups. “Hm, that’s not the first time you’ve mentioned ‘stable.’ That makes me curious, Charlie.”
She didn’t look curious. Analytical, yes. Assessing. But curious would imply a real desire to know him. He didn’t see that. And then he thought about the way Grace had to do nothing more than meet his stare for him to know how she felt. And how she’d listened to him, talked to him about his problems with the hotel, and never once made him feel like a bug under a microscope.
Suddenly he was less bothered by the idea that he’d been on the verge of offering to fold her laundry just to spend time with her.
“We’ve done a lot of talking about me, Karen. What about you? What will your next five years look like?”
She pursed her lips for a second. Then they might have lifted in a small smile, but she took a few bites of her dessert and pushed it away. “That’s easy, Charlie. I’d like to grow my practice at a rate of fifteen percent annually, find a husband who values that career, and if we make it three years, perhaps consider one child.”
That was a solid plan. Cold. But clear. Easy to measure, really. His mother would be appalled. And when he imagined what Karen’s reaction would be when he introduced her to Willodean Jackson and the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel, he was pretty sure the evening was over or should be. He took a sip of his hot coffee and decided he’d be willing to sacrifice his own crème brûlée to get back to the hotel. He flicked his watch over to glance at the time and then motioned at the waiter for the check. “I can see I’ve kept you longer than I meant to.”
She folded her napkin precisely and settled it next to her plate before she pulled her phone out of her purse. “Should we see how our schedules coordinate to plan the next date?”
Ooh, sticky situation. Obviously she hadn’t minded a solid therapy session with her dinner. “I just don’t think it’s a good use of your time, Karen.” He plopped his credit card down as soon as the waiter lurched to a stop and sent him on his way.
She leaned back again, her perfect posture wilting a little in surprise even if her face never showed it. “Really? I thought we were communicating well.”
The only thing Charlie was sure of was that there had been no connection. He couldn’t imagine being moved to kiss her against his better judgment and in full display of whoever walked by. A week ago that might not have bothered him. The success of his plan would not have been hampered by that distance, which would’ve worked in favor of Karen’s plan.
But he’d met Grace. And now he wanted to connect.
Karen held out her hand. “If you change your mind, text me. I would be happy to schedule a follow-up.”
Charlie’s lips twitched but there was no way she’d get his amusement. Follow-up was exactly right, like an evaluation of his emotional progress. Maybe that time they could have seafood or he could just pay her his copay and meet her at her office.
He shook her hand and said, “It was nice to meet you. Good luck with your plan.”
She stood smoothly and navigated the tables cleanly, easily. He watched her push open the door and walk out of the restaurant.
“Here you are, sir.” Charlie smiled
up at the waiter and took the credit card slip to sign it. Then he slowly crossed the crowded dining room and once outside, slid into his SUV.
Then he pulled out his phone and texted the pharmacist to cancel his Thursday night date. He had a feeling that they would lack a spark too.
He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking space. Now he had a real problem. His own plan didn’t interest him anymore. Stable marriage to a suitable woman sounded like the recipe for the most boring life ever. Well, except for maybe the life he was already living all on his own in Newport. Even if his plan would be easy and made perfect sense, he couldn’t make himself follow it. But waiting, looking to run into the right woman in the grocery store hadn’t worked.
Then there was his mother’s plan. Grace. Nobody could deny that spark.
He just couldn’t imagine what life with her would be like. Visions of spending the rest of his days at the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel made him cringe. He pulled into a parking spot in front of the hotel and tried to decide what to do. The best idea: go to his room and try to sleep through the sound of the rushing waterfall in the corner of his very own blue lagoon. Maybe by the time he found Grace again he’d have come to some kind of decision about her or life or the journey or something. He hoped so. This uncertainty was exhausting.
WHEN CHARLIE SLID onto the bar stool the next evening, Viva Las Vegas was doing nice business for a December Thursday. That was a good thing. He’d spent the day calling for status reports from his latest investments. As always, the news was a mixed bag, but he didn’t feel invigorated by challenge the way he usually did. When he’d stopped in to see Grace, her office had been dark. Since his mother was also conspicuously absent, he had the idea that they were out together and that he should probably check his mother’s credit card for recent activity. He’d known the lack of a budget for the addition, which was only a money drain at this point, not a revenue stream, would not slow his mother down for long.
Santa, Bring My Baby Back Page 11
