by Amy Andrews
She was dressed in tie-dyed clothes again, T-shirt and shorts. Her hair was down. He liked it. He liked it a lot. ‘I hope you haven’t already eaten. I bought Dana’s favourite—Chinese.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, her brain freezing. What did this mean? What did he want? Memories of what had happened last time they’d stood at this door swamped her.
Stop it!
‘Isn’t this a little early for you to be leaving the centre?’
He smiled. ‘I’m getting a life.’
Carrie’s breath caught at the hint of a promise lurking behind the teasing glint in his grey gaze.
‘Mummy?’
‘Here, darling.’ Carrie turned, grateful for the interruption.
Charlie smiled at Dana as she approached. She had on a T-shirt and shorts with paint stains all over them. She even had a smudge of paint on her face. ‘Hi, Sleeping Beauty.’
Dana’s eyes lit up. ‘Charlie!’ She threw out her arms and hugged his legs.
Charlie looked down at her blonde head and felt a swell of tenderness deep inside. He felt honoured to be so easily accepted into Dana’s world. And a little scared. He crouched down. ‘You look like you fell into a paint can,’ he teased.
‘Mummy said the same thing.’ Dana giggled.
Charlie looked up at Carrie. There was confusion in her eyes. He looked back at Dana. ‘Hah! Great minds think alike.’
‘Did you bringed your dukebox?’ Dana asked, looking over Charlie’s shoulder.
He laughed. ‘No, but I bought something just as good.’ He held up the plastic bag. ‘Ding rolls.’
‘Oh, look, Mummy,’ Dana said. ‘Charlie bought us Chinese.’
Carrie smiled and stroked her daughter’s fringe. ‘Yes, darling. We’d better invite him in, then.’
Carrie stood aside and motioned for Charlie to precede her. He brushed past her and she could smell his aftershave, mingled with the aroma of Chinese cooking, and it was a temptingly spicy combination.
‘So you haven’t eaten?’ he asked as he plonked the bag and wine on the marble-topped bench.
Carrie shook her head, lifting Dana up to sit on the bench. ‘Friday and Saturday nights are Susie’s nights off.’
‘She’s my nanny,’ Dana interjected proudly.
‘Friday night is usually too-tired-to-cook night and we have another of Dana’s favourites—two-minute noodles.’ She held up the packet. She’d been just about to add hot water to it when he’d knocked.
‘Yummy, two-minute noodles,’ Charlie said.
‘You like them, too?’ Dana asked.
He nodded. He’d practically lived on them and frozen TV dinners since his separation from Veronica. He was rarely home early enough to be bothered to actually cook anything from scratch. That was what Sunday dinners with his parents were for. For him anyway. They usually had an entirely different agenda.
‘It’s girls’ night in,’ Dana told him, swinging her legs.
‘Oh?’ He quirked an eyebrow at Carrie.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said dismissively. ‘We eat noodles, she gets to drink watered-down orange juice out of a plastic wineglass, I let her stay up a bit later and we put on a CD and dance.’
He shut his eyes and groaned. ‘And I’ve just gatecrashed?’ Good one, Charlie.
‘It’s OK. There’ll be plenty more.’
‘Will you dance with us, Charlie?’ Dana asked.
He looked into her eyes and was unable to resist. ‘Of course.’
‘OK, let’s get this food organised,’ Carrie said briskly, her heart contracting at the look that passed between her daughter and the man who not even two weeks ago had ravaged her in her bedroom.
Charlie uncorked the wine while Carrie retrieved three plates. She removed the containers from the plastic bag and took their lids off, steam sending a delicious aroma circulating around the kitchen. Dana was allowed to pour her own orange juice.
‘Come on, Sleeping Beauty,’ Charlie said, lifting Dana off the bench and setting her down. He picked up two plates and followed Carrie through to the dining room.
Charlie had never laughed so much in his life than he did over dinner. Dana kept them distracted from each other. She was a truly delightful child. Her smile was angelic, her voice melodic and her laughter wicked. She was captivating. Why the hell were Sunday lunches never this much fun with his family?
They were so stiff and formal. Everyone dressed up, definitely no paint stains or tie-dye. His siblings and their assorted partners tried to outdo each other with their latest published paper or research grant. The menu was cordon bleu—no two-minute anything allowed. And his father pontificated and preached and tried to convert him to one specialty or another. He dreaded them. In fact, he only really attended them out of a mixture of duty and guilt.
But this? This evening with Carrie and her daughter showed him the way a real family conducted itself. With warmth and laughter and sharing. He’d never had such a sense of family as he’d had tonight. He doubted he ever had. From as early as he could remember, things had been stiff and formal and the pressure to perform had been there. This relaxed, laughter-filled meal was like a breath of fresh air. He desperately wanted in on this scene of domestic bliss, but a part of him held back. Upbringing was a hard act to beat, and his childhood had been the complete opposite of Dana’s. What if he got involved and then messed it up?
He felt a pang in his chest as he watched Carrie wipe Dana’s mouth, and couldn’t decide if it was envy or lust. He suspected from the tightness in his loins it was the latter, but there was no denying he coveted what Carrie and Dana had.
‘Come on, you, bathtime,’ Carrie said. She could feel Charlie’s gaze on her and if she didn’t move now she might just do something ridiculous, like lean into him and rub her cheek against his chest. The situation was hopelessly intimate, all of them sitting here, laughing and chatting like a family. It was hard not to weave fantasies.
‘I want Charlie to do it,’ Dana said.
Oh, no. No. No. No. That would be too much like happy families. ‘No, sweetie. Charlie’s going to do the dishes. Aren’t you?’ She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
He could see the gentle note of warning in her eyes. ‘Absolutely.’ He nodded. ‘I love washing up.’
Carrie shot him a small smile.
‘You are going to stay for the dancing, aren’t you, Charlie?’ Dana looked up at him, pleading with her big blue eyes.
Charlie saw Carrie roll her eyes and smothered a smirk. ‘Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,’he promised. ‘Now, go have your bath.’
Dana turned to do his bidding obediently and Carrie rolled her eyes at Charlie again. His warm sexy chuckle followed her all the way to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later the dishes were done and Dana was padding down the hallway, her wet hair combed, her thumb in her mouth, dragging her blanky behind her. She had on some tie-dyed pyjamas.
‘Do you like my pyjamas, Charlie?’ Dana asked, pirouetting.
He looked up as Carrie entered behind Dana. ‘Very much,’ he said.
‘My aunty makes them. She’s a niner.’
‘Oh?’ he said, shooting a puzzled look at Carrie.
‘A designer,’ Carrie clarified.
‘A niner.’ Dana nodded. ‘She loves tie-tie the best.’
‘Tie-dye,’ Carrie corrected.
‘Ah.’ He nodded sagely.
Dana walked towards him and stopped in front of him. She put her head all the way back to peer up at him. ‘Come on, Charlie, Mummy, it’s dance time.’ Dana slipped her hand into Charlie’s and tugged.
He laughed and followed.
‘We don’t have a dukebox, do we, Mummy?’ Dana asked, not bothering to wait for a reply before she ploughed on. ‘We have a DD player.’
‘Ah.’ Charlie nodded. ‘A DD player. Cool.’
‘Can we have “Crocodile Rock”, Mummy?’
Carrie smiled. ‘Sure sweetie.’
Carrie put the Elton
John CD in the player and fast forwarded to Dana’s current favourite. She could feel Charlie’s stare and her hand shook as she pressed the play button.
‘Come on, Charlie,’ Dana said pulling him up from the lounge. ‘Dance with me.’
Carrie sat back and laughed and smiled and clapped as her daughter twisted and bopped energetically with a grinning Charlie. She looked so happy it was almost painful. This was what it could have been like if Rupert had stuck around. Well, actually, she couldn’t quite imagine stiff-lipped Rupert letting his hair down this much, but didn’t every little girl have a right to a father?
Dana was looking at Charlie as if he was the best thing since sliced bread. She already talked about him non-stop as it was. It was easy to see that she could become very attached to Charlie. God knew, she was having enough trouble forgetting him.
But in another week or so she’d be finished at the centre and she’d never see Charlie again. And as much fun as this moment was, as wonderful as it was to see Dana so happy, she had to make sure Charlie didn’t come around again. For both their sakes. They’d already overstepped the line a couple of times and it was imperative she keep it professional. Charlie was a flash in the pan as far as her life goals went, and it would be foolish to allow him to distract her from what was important.
The song began for the fourth time and Carrie rose off the lounge to turn it off. It was already seven-thirty—way past Dana’s bedtime.
‘I think that’s more than enough, young lady.’
‘No, Mummy,’ Dana pleaded. ‘You haven’t danced with me yet. Can we dance like we always do before I go to bed?’
Dana’s blue-eyed stare and earnest face could have won her an Oscar. ‘OK…but just once.’
Dana jumped up and down and Carrie put on ‘Endless Love.’ She picked up a waiting Dana, who snuggled into her side and stuck her thumb in her mouth. ‘Blanky,’ she murmured, looking around for the tatty piece of polar fleece she’d had since a baby.
‘Here.’ Charlie pulled it out from under where he was sitting on the lounge.
Carrie tried to tune Charlie out as she slowly swayed around the lounge room with Dana. Their girls’ night in always ended with ‘Endless Love’. It was one of her favourite rituals of the week with Dana snuggled close and the soaring romantic music swirling all around them. It seemed strange to have a third party sharing this mother-daughter moment. Unfortunately it didn’t feel bad strange. It felt…nice strange. Cosy.
Dana roused. ‘Charlie.’ She held out her hand to him.
Charlie looked at Carrie and their gazes held. He desperately wanted to go. To take Dana’s hand and envelop them both in his arms and pull them close. But he knew there was a line he’d be crossing. One he wasn’t entirely sure Carrie wanted him to cross. Wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to cross himself.
Carrie saw the yearning in his eyes and knew she didn’t have the heart to deny him entry into their circle. Neither did she want to. She had actually felt tonight what it would be like to have a man in her life, someone for her and Dana, and she didn’t have the power as the song swirled around her to end it all. She would have to, she knew. But surely they could just have the song?
Charlie saw the barely perceptible nod of her head and he rose from the chair. The lure of mother and daughter was too powerful to resist. His heart thudded as he took Dana’s hand and let her pull him closer. He swayed in unison with them, trying to keep a little distance. His gaze locked with Carrie’s and he saw desire heat her eyes and dilate her pupils.
‘Closer, Charlie,’ a drowsy Dana demanded, pulling him in more.
Charlie swallowed as his body moved closer to Carrie’s, their gazes still locked. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around Dana’s waist. And Carrie’s. Draw them in close. Tuck Carrie’s head in beneath his chin. She didn’t resist. His heart beat loudly. Was hers?
Carrie resisted the urge to rub her cheek against his shirt for about ten seconds. But his scent, his warmth, the sheer bulk of him pressed against her cheek made it impossible to ignore. She turned her face into his chest and rubbed her nose against the fabric of his shirt. It smelt like soap, sweet and sour pork and man.
There was nothing but the three of them and the music. Even Dana, who was practically asleep, was forgotten in the cloud of lust and longing that enveloped her. Charlie was making her think of parts of her body that she hadn’t thought about in a long time. Heating places, igniting places, stroking places that she’d forgotten she had.
The song came to an end, they stopped swaying and for a brief moment they didn’t move. She could hear his heart thudding loudly against her ear and wondered if he could also hear hers.
‘Mummy?’ Dana stirred.
Carrie blinked. It took a second to remember where the hell she was. She pulled her head off Charlie’s chest and took a step away from him. ‘Hush, sweetie, you fell asleep. Off to bed with you.’ She dropped a kiss on her daughter’s head.
‘’Night, Charlie,’ Dana murmured, fluttering her eyelashes half-open.
‘’Night, Sleeping Beauty,’ Charlie crooned, leaning forward slightly to also drop a kiss on her head. He looked at Carrie as he withdrew, her lips so very, very close. So full and soft. So inviting. The heat in her eyes flared again and it took all his willpower to pull away.
Carrie walked on very unsteady legs to Dana’s bedroom and tucked her daughter in. She stroked her fringe, staring down at her rosy cheeks, her mouth slack around her inserted thumb. Lying before her was her whole world. For just over four years nothing else but Dana had mattered. She had taken up Carrie’s whole emotional existence.
But outside in her lounge room was a man who was slowly pushing his way into her heart, too. Did she have room? And, as good as he was with Dana, would he have room in his heart for her daughter? The night he had run out when confronted with the reality of Dana was still fresh in her mind. They came as a package deal and she didn’t have the time or emotional strength to deal with another man who didn’t want them both.
She snapped on Dana’s bedside light and lingered for one last look at her beautiful girl. She looked so pure, so innocent. Carrie knew she couldn’t risk that on a man who was probably just looking for someone to break the drought with.
She straightened. He had to go. She doubted she’d be strong enough to resist him if he stayed any longer. All she had to do was turn around, march into the lounge room, thank him for the meal and show him the door. She could do that. She could do that.
Charlie felt as if time and reality had slowed right down. He felt as if his blood flowed sluggishly through his veins, his heart banged painfully at a snail’s pace, his breath shortened dramatically until he was light-headed from lack of oxygen. And he ached everywhere. His arms ached. His chest ached. His groin ached.
Carrie entered the room and she was talking about the meal and thanking him but nothing other than the bound of his blood and Kiss her could be heard through the goulash-type soup his brain had become. He stood as she approached.
‘And I really think it would be best if you—’
His kiss cut her off. His hands cradled her face as his hot lips ravished hers. His impatient tongue demanded entry into her mouth. She tasted like red wine and honey chicken and he couldn’t get enough of it. Of her. He heard her moan, felt her clutch at his shirt, heard her ragged breath.
He released her mouth but kept her body pressed against his. ‘I want you.’
Carrie could see the haze of lust in his grey gaze and, God help her, she wanted him, too. Wanted his shirt off so she could inhale the scent of his naked skin. Wanted all his clothes off. She wanted to smell him everywhere. Touch him everywhere. Kiss him everywhere. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her and her internal muscles clenched at the almost savage desire she saw there. She didn’t have the willpower to turn him away.
But a tiny speck of good sense prevailed. ‘You have to be gone by morning,’ she croaked.
&nbs
p; He thought about it for one second. ‘Done,’ he said, lowering his head swiftly to reclaim her mouth.
Carrie grabbed his shirt at the back and pulled it up. His skin. She had to touch his skin. He angled his head so she could yank it off, breaking their kiss. She pushed her face greedily against his chest. His skin was warm and it felt solid and smelt divine as she dropped kisses along the flat plane of his pectoral muscle.
Charlie dragged a breath in as her tongue darted out and moistened his nipple. He felt his groin respond immediately. ‘Enough,’ he growled, pulling away. He grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in record time.
Carrie stared at the look of pure desire in his eyes as his gaze feasted on lace-covered breasts. ‘Bedroom,’ she demanded, knowing it would probably be her last coherent thought for the night.
Charlie didn’t have to be asked twice. He swung her up into his arms and strode with her through the apartment. About the only thing his lust-drugged brain remembered was the way to her bedroom.
Charlie kissed her as he lowered her feet to the floor, his hands burying themselves in her wavy auburn locks. He heard her moan and could feel her arms clinging around his neck and he wanted to take her on the spot. But he wanted to take his time also. To look at her. To touch her. To lick her all over.
His hands stroked down her near-naked back as his kiss deepened. Her skin was soft and warm and he took his time exploring every inch. He caressed the curve of her waist, his thumb running up and down the concave smoothness. He lingered in the hollow of her back, teasing the flesh, his fingers flirting with the waistband of her shorts. She moaned against his mouth and he could sense her barely restrained control in the huskiness of her breath and the tremble of her fingers as they splayed through his hair.
Charlie was holding her so close he could feel the squash of her breasts hot against him, the lace of her bra scraping against his chest. He lifted his head. He wanted to look at her. Touch her.
Carrie whimpered as he pulled away. His mouth was like a drug, a really addictive, really incredible drug and he’d just withdrawn her supply.
‘Shh,’ he hushed her, running a finger over her lips. ‘I want to look at you.’
