Let Me Call You Sweetheart

by Gwen Hayes

  “Okay,” Myrtle countered. “So rich, talented, handsome actor moves to town, finds you attractive despite your efforts to be otherwise to him, and wants to date you. You will make out with him twice a day, but won’t go to dinner with him. Explain this to me.”

  “We don’t always make out. Sometimes we just hold hands. And it’s for Medusa.”

  Though Myrtle had no children, she threw a mean mom-stare. Charlie rankled from the scrutiny and stared into the mug to avoid any more direct eye contact. Myrtle didn’t let her off that easy, though. “Nobody, including you, believes you need to tongue tango with Jeeves Allencaster in order to keep his dog alive. Why won’t you date him? Everyone in town talks about nothing else.”

  “Well, there’s another good reason not to. Imagine how bad they would be if I said yes. You know he told everyone at Mel’s he was courting me? Courting.”

  “Sweetie, everyone at Mel’s has money at stake. There’s a huge pool going on. I’ve got fifty on the Sweetheart Dance.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “You’re my best friend.”

  “I know. They almost didn’t let me place a bet since I might have inside information. In the end, they decided you’re such a wild card even knowing you well wouldn’t be that much of an advantage. But just the same, if you were to kiss him in front of everyone at the dance, we could use the money for a spa day together.”

  A customer showed up then, saving Myrtle from Charlie’s righteous indignation. Imagine—the whole town was betting on her love life. How pathetic was her existence?

  Charlie wasn’t complaining about being neighborly. The kissing was more than pleasant. Jeeves was very talented, and she enjoyed his company. She might even say they were friends. But dating was out of the question. And she was not going to sleep with him. Not in this lifetime.

  The last few days had settled into a nice pattern. He’d come over for coffee in the morning. They would visit, sometimes smooch, Medusa would eat, and then he and the dog would leave. In the evenings, she went to their house. There was wine or beer, ten minutes of groping on the couch, and sometimes a movie. Last night, they played backgammon.

  Myrtle finished the sale and returned to the conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “So, why won’t you date him?”

  “For God’s sakes, Myrt, he’s not in this for the long haul, okay? He’s going to get bored here. Life in Port Grable can’t compete with his old life. He’s going to realize, probably soon, that all he was looking for was a vacation, not a lifestyle change.”

  “And?”

  “He’s not permanent.”

  “So?”

  Charlie made the internationally recognized scoffing noise that meant Oh my God, you can’t be serious.

  Myrtle held up her hands. “What? You’re the one always telling me how you don’t want a permanent relationship. You enjoy dating but don’t want to be tied down—he’s the perfect match for you. Sexy, sexy love and no commitment to freak you out.”

  “You’re right. I don’t want commitment—but I also don’t want to live next door to a guy after we break up. It’s a recipe for Disaster Cake with Calamity Frosting.”

  Myrtle remained unimpressed. “You haven’t dated anyone since Delivery Dan broke things off.”

  “The best part of dating Dan was that he only came to town on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He distributed Budweiser to Mel’s and the other restaurants in town. For a while, he’d distributed more than beer to Charlie.

  Myrtle tsked. “That’s what I’m saying. The minute Dan started talking about moving from dating to relationship territory, you cut him off.”

  Charlie couldn’t believe how Myrtle was rewriting history. “Dan broke up with me.”

  “Don’t even try that with me. I know you made it impossible for him to not break things off. We’re getting off track here. Jeeves is every woman’s fantasy and he wants you. Why can’t you just enjoy yourself?”

  Charlie downed the rest of her cider. It was still a touch too warm and scalded her throat as it went down. “Think about it, Myrtle.” She met her friend’s eyes. “How could a girl ever go back to dating beer distributors after sleeping with one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive?” Worse, how could she ever look in a mirror again when he went back to dating the other twenty-five women featured in that issue? “He’d ruin me.”

  “Oh, Charlie.”

  “Do not feel sorry for me. Please, I’m happy. I love my life. I’m not going to ruin it by sleeping with Jeeves Allencaster. Also, I’m not going to kiss him at the Sweetheart Dance, either.”

  And she didn’t. She kissed him before the dance, so Medusa could eat, but not at the VFW hall decorated in paper hearts the colors of falling leaves. She didn’t turn him down for a dance, though, and the whole time she was in his arms, she felt her body trying to betray her.

  Hours earlier, she’d felt the easy glide of his mouth on hers, tasted the dark ale he liked on her tongue. His hands had cupped her breast—outside of her clothes—but later, at the dance, they pretended they were friendly acquaintances. But her body wouldn’t stay indifferent. It had wanted to get closer and she found herself angling so she was teasing them both with casual “accidental” brushes of her breasts on his torso.

  Charlie knew what was happening between them wasn’t a healthy relationship. It wasn’t normal, but hell, she was almost forty. If she wanted to kiss her neighbor and then play cards, it wasn’t anybody else’s business. If she wanted to flirt with the TV star, so be it. Just so long as they both knew it wasn’t going anywhere, what was the harm?

  And so went the rest of November. In December, they started taking Medusa to the gravelly beach every morning before her breakfast. Sometimes Charlie held his hand. They’d go back to her kitchen and have coffee and read the paper. Medusa was eating well, and they were happy.

  Except when they argued about whether or not she was his girlfriend.

  For Christmas, Jeeves had accepted an invitation out of town. He’d done it before he’d adopted Medusa, of course, but Charlie knew he wanted to go, so she encouraged him. Charlie was happy to dog sit, but was unhappy as soon as Wednesday night, several hours after he’d left.

  It was about nine o’clock. Medusa was pouting. Charlie was pouting. They looked at each other with dismal expressions, and Charlie realized that man had possibly already ruined her for other men.

  Dammit.

  Medusa hadn’t eaten her kibble, but Charlie had coaxed her into nibbling on some leftover roast while they sat morosely on the couch together, Charlie drinking red wine from a very deep glass. When she got up and put Tom Waits on, Charlie knew she was doomed. Doomed.

  Chapter Five

  Jeeves couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie’s scar.

  If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he hadn’t stopped thinking about Charlie since he’d left Port Grable. But just then, surrounded by talented, gorgeous people and a lavish meal with good conversation, Jeeves felt as if he were alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean and all he could do was wonder where that scar had come from.

  She didn’t hide it—sometimes it peeked out of her lower-cut clothes and sometimes he’d had the opportunity to touch it briefly during Kibble Time. It seemed to be about three inches long and curved around her breast, most of it covered by her bra. What concerned him was that he wanted to see it because of its location, of course, but more than that he wanted to know how she’d gotten it. And he didn’t know which he wanted more.

  It was one of those things she didn’t talk about, just like she wouldn’t discuss her life before moving into her house or the fact that she was falling for him. Those topics were off limits.

  God he missed her.

  He needed to go home. He needed to be home.

  Jeeves kept trying to engage in conversation at the table. They were good people, his friends, and he should be grateful for the company. Instead, he thought of that prickly woman and all her secrets and the way she smelled like apples
and tasted like sin. And how it would be another twenty-four hours before he would lay his eyes on her. Depressing.

  On Friday, he pulled into his driveway and hurried straight to her door. Charlie opened it and smiled. That was all he saw and all he remembered for quite some time. Jeeves pulled her into an embrace, his hands delving into the soft brown curls while his mouth went for hers without preamble.

  She gasped into his mouth and he took it. This was the first time he’d kissed her without the dog bowl being filled and it sort of felt naughtier for it. He’d take that too. Jeeves kicked the door closed behind him, turned them both around, and backed her into it. Charlie’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, but eased into a more pliant hold really quickly when she realized if she lowered them he could get closer to her.

  She bunched the waist of his shirt beneath his coat into her hands, pulling his hips into hers. He pushed into the cushion of her soft skin, delving his tongue deeper into her mouth. An urgency unlike anything he’d ever felt before overtook him and it carried them both over the cliff of desire. He wanted her naked. He needed to be inside her like he needed his next breath.

  If he could leave her lush, wet mouth, he thought of what he might do to her neck. She was so sensitive in the curve between her ear and her shoulder. He wanted to feel her tremble, but God her mouth was making him crazy. When she sucked on his tongue, he groaned, egging her on.

  Pinned to the door, she still managed to writhe against him, her curves making him harder than he’d ever been in his goddamned life. He let his hands roam, skimming over the swells of her body, squeezing reflexively. He moved to her neck, tonguing a path to induce her delicious shivers under his hands. His restless pulse rushed loudly in his ears as he nipped her sensitive skin.

  Charlie’s breath whooshed out, pushed by a moan that made him feel like a king.

  “I want you,” he said against her neck. “I want you so much it’s going to kill me.”

  She whimpered and pushed his coat off his shoulders. He took that as a good sign, and slid his hands under her sweater. Her skin was hot satin, smooth and enticing, luring him to touch her everywhere. And by God he intended to.

  At that moment, Medusa must have woken from her nap and realized Jeeves was home. She gave one low bark and jumped on him, her front paws pushing into his back and shoving him against Charlie.

  “Oof,” he managed as she knocked the wind out of him.

  “Down, Medusa,” Charlie was able to get out, though she was catching her breath too.

  The dog got off him but started barking in a high-pitched excited tone. He met Charlie’s eyes and imagined his must be frustrated. “I’m taking the dog to the pound. Right now.”

  Charlie laughed, but sobered quickly, her eyes going all soft and sweet. “She missed you.”

  They held the gaze for a few seconds, blocking the noise of the dog. All he could hear was his wildly beating heart, and all he could see was Charlie. “I missed her.”

  For once, she was speechless.

  He could beg. He wasn’t above it. “Date me.”

  “No,” she said.

  “My hand is under your sweater right now. Why won’t you go out with me?”

  Charlie pushed him away and straightened her clothes. “I don’t want to date you, Jeeves. We won’t suit.”

  He raked his hands through his hair. “Jesus, Charlie. You are a mess.”

  His words hit their mark and she blinked at him with a startled, wounded expression. He wasn’t even sorry.

  Shit, yes he was.

  “I’m sorry. Mostly. Look, you’ve got me all twisted in knots and I can’t find my way out of this paper bag you’ve put us in. We suit. We suit just dandy. You’re scared of something. What is it?”

  Charlie crossed the room and started gathering Medusa’s things. “I don’t feel like having this conversation.”

  Her movements were jerky and uncontrolled. Her breath came in little fast puffs of air. He followed her, placing a still hand on her wrist. She just stared at his hand, refusing to look up at him.

  “I want you. I know you want me. We have a good time and the walk of shame would consist of a quick sprint across the yard. There is nothing about this that won’t work.” He hoped a little brevity would help. He didn’t like the way she was trembling from being tense instead of because he was turning her on. “What is it that you are so afraid of?”

  “Aren’t things working just fine? Why do we have to change anything?” She still didn’t look at him. “I just want to be friends.”

  He eased behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling that spot below her ear. The one that made her knees weak. It made him feel insanely macho when he made her knees weak. “We can’t be just friends because you turn me on like a neon light. You’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thought on my mind when I drift to sleep.”

  Charlie bent her neck to give him better access, even while telling him she didn’t believe him. “It’s not real. I’m a challenge because I said no. The minute you get me in your bed, you’ll lose interest.”

  “I don’t know who you’ve been having sex with, but I promise you’ll hold my attention for longer than a minute.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m serious.”

  Jeeves went right back to where he was on her neck. “No, you’re not. But I am. Tomorrow night, we go on a date. A real one.”

  “Absolutely not. Cheapskate Chuck has money on tomorrow, and I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”

  “Fine, date at my house. Dinner. The town doesn’t need to know.”

  Charlie sighed, long and heavy. “Just dinner?”

  “Oh, I fully intend to spend the entire time luring you into my bedroom, but dinner is the only real expectation. But it has to be real effort on your part. You have to give it a chance and treat it like a real date. Is tomorrow December twenty-seventh?”

  “Yes, why?”

  Jeeves pulled back and kissed her hand. “Hammersmith had money on the twenty-seventh, too.”

  Charlie walked him to the door, complaining the whole time, but he knew he’d won. Tomorrow.

  He could hardly wait.

  “You don’t have nearly enough chest hair to pull that look off. But nice touch with the gold chains.”

  Jeeves winked at Charlie before he strutted across the room as if he had the Bee Gees singing directly into his ears. He was utterly ridiculous.

  It was at that moment she knew she would sleep with him.

  The thought stunned her. On some level, she’d always supposed she might succumb. He was charming and handsome. And he loved his dog. The combination was a winning one. It just never occurred to her that the realization would blindside her like a sucker punch.

  Jeeves set the tray of oysters next to the pink champagne. His pants didn’t tear at the seam when he bent over, but they should have.

  “Jeeves, why are you dressed like a disco nightmare?”

  “Because I knew you would appreciate it.” He straightened. “Just because we’re about to embark upon a serious relationship doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have fun. I wanted you to lighten up.”

  That he knew her so well undid the last tether on her heart. “Thank you.” She said it so softly, she wasn’t sure he heard her at first. Something in his face changed, though.

  He stopped being funny. He even stopped being charming. Jeeves was something…different. A powerful current ran between them. It arced and hummed and produced the kind of voltage that could do serious damage to a girl.

  But oh how she wanted it.

  “You doing okay, sweetheart?” His wry smile told Charlie that everything she was feeling was written all over her face.

  She felt naked, exposed. Undeniably over her head. So much for safety. The cocoon she’d built around her life had disintegrated into a fine dust the minute he’d stolen her muffin.

  “You’re pale.” Jeeves led her to the couch. “I hope you don’t think I won
’t take advantage of you passed out. I have no morals. None. You’re fair game.”

  She pulled him down next to her. “Why do you want me?”

  He began to speak, but she interrupted when he opened his mouth.

  “For real. I don’t want a joke or a quip. I want to know why me. You’ve had starlets and models and even a few seriously talented actresses in your bed. Why me?” She had to know.

  “Cleaver, I didn’t go looking for this any more than you did. I’m sure my fascination began from the challenge to begin with, but I think we both know it grew past that pretty quickly. Every Medusa feeding is a testament to that.” He rubbed her knuckles. “Why you? Because you’re smart and talented and beautiful. Because you make me laugh and think and hard.”

  A small snort escaped her nose. Hard. She made him hard. Could she do this? Was she strong enough to just…believe him?

  “I am scared,” she admitted. “I hate being scared more than anything else in the whole world. I came to Port Grable so I would never be scared again.”

  “Are you going to tell me about that?”

  “I think I’m going to have to.”

  Chapter Six

  Jeeves braced himself. Suddenly, he felt foolish for wearing the 70s swinger getup. Whatever was coming next deserved a modicum of dignity.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen,” he said. “You can talk while I plate you up the best pasta you’ve ever had.”

  She nodded, a little more agreeable than he liked her.

  Medusa followed them, settling on her dog bed by the window. Charlie sat in the chair he held out for her, and he dished her up a plate of food she would love, but knew by her expression she wouldn’t eat. Not now, maybe later. He’d reheat it and they could eat it in bed.

  “Tell me,” he said simply.

  She shrugged her shoulders. Her soft, creamy shoulders.