Damn intuitive woman.
“Yeah, I did,” I answered, pulling my attention away from the passenger window. “I mean, the food was . . .” I shivered visibly.
He let out a low chuckle. “That bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say you really owe me. Ms. W was gearing up to pack the rest of the leftovers for you, but I told her you had a food sensitivity. You’re welcome.”
“Consider me in your debt, then.” His lips pulled into a grin, and even from his profile, I could see it was a really great smile. I didn’t know if it was something in the water at Alpha Omega, or maybe a job requirement, but the men who worked with Dalton were really something. Every . . . damn . . . one of them. The women in Hope Valley were never lacking for eye candy, that was for damn sure. “Your neighbor, she’s quite the character, huh?”
I smiled as I thought about the little old lady full of wisdom. “She’s a trip and really good people. It was good to get out and spend some time with friends. Thanks for taking me.”
“Not a problem.” He tapped out an unknown beat on the steering wheel, keeping his attention on the road ahead of us as he drove. “Dalton gave me a heads-up that he was working to set something up yesterday. He knew you were goin’ crazy being stuck inside and wanted to give you a break.”
I turned to look out the window again, feeling a million different kinds of awful. “I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
“Who doesn’t screw up every once in a while, sweetheart? It’s not about how badly you mess up. It’s about how you try to fix it.”
“And if you were in my shoes?” I asked, unable to hide the hopefulness from my voice. “How would you go about fixing it?”
I caught that smirk of his again. “Well, I can’t speak for him, but I know one way that’d work with me.”
I gave him a bland expression and dead-panned, “If you make a sex joke right now, I’m gonna punch you right in the throat.”
That earned me a full-blown laugh, which was only slightly less appealing than Dalton’s. “Get your head out of the gutter, woman. I was talkin’ about food.”
Food. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that?
I wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, but I could hold my own. Fortunately, I knew someone who was incredible in the kitchen and had first-hand knowledge of all of Dalton’s favorite foods. And it just so happened, she and her husband had extended her trip to Hope Valley after my little hospital stay, refusing to leave until I was on the mend.
It was time to call in the cavalry.
I’d made Trent and Lorene promise not to say anything to Dalton about the special dinner I spent the majority of the afternoon preparing.
My anxiety had gotten the better of me in the beginning, and there’d been a teensy little fire, but once we got that put out—thanks to Trent—it was smooth sailing.
Now Lorene was gone, back to the lake house she and Walt were staying at, and Trent was in the living room, watching something mind-numbing on ESPN while I put the finishing touches on the meal.
The kitchen table tucked into the bay window off the kitchen was set, and I’d just uncapped a bottle of Dalton’s favorite beer when the sound of his truck rumbling up the driveway carried through the house.
My stomach erupted with a flurry of butterflies as the front door opened, and a moment after that, the TV was flipped off.
I stood frozen in place, listening to the low, muffled voices as Trent and Dalton greeted each other in the foyer. A second later, Trent called out, “Night, Charlie. See you later.”
“Later, Trent,” I returned. “Have a good night.”
I heard the sound of the door shutting then Dalton’s boots against the wood floors as he started toward the kitchen.
“It smells like smoke in here. What happened—” The question died on his lips when he rounded the corner into the kitchen. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“I made dinner,” I chirped nervously. “And, okay, so there was an itty bitty fire”—I pinched my thumb and index finger together less than a centimeter apart— “but it was easily contained and didn’t cause any damage.”
Dalton’s eyes bugged out. “There was a fire?”
“More like a baby fire,” I rambled. “And like I said, we got it put out in no time, and now I know not to keep dishtowels anywhere near the stove. Luckily none of the food burned, and your mom assured me it wasn’t just edible, but actually pretty tasty.”
He didn’t look any less confused as he asked, “My mother was here?”
I gripped my hands together in front of me, twisting and untwisting my fingers as I admitted, “I wanted to cook you a nice dinner, but, well . . .” My face pulled into a cringe, “I’m not really much of a cook. I mean, I can cook basic stuff, but I never really had anyone teach me, and I wanted it to be good, so I called Lorene. She helped me. And, well . . .” I threw my arms out at my sides. “There you go. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I got you beer.”
His mouth twitched with a surpassed grin. “Take a breath, Thumbelina. Before you pass out.”
The air whooshed from my lungs on a harsh exhale. That was the first Thumbelina I’d gotten in two weeks, and it felt damn good. Not as good as baby, but still.
He took a step farther into the kitchen, looking around. “So you cooked me dinner?”
“I did. Taco casserole. I got the recipe from your mom. She said it was one of your favorite meals.”
His eyes went wide, and I could have sworn he sniffed the air as he came fully into the kitchen. “You made my mom’s taco casserole?”
“I did. I hope it’s good.” I moved around the island to the casserole dish. Needing something to do with my hands, I picked it up and carried it over to the table, placing it on the hot pad I’d put in the very center. “I made a salad too. I have to say, I’m a little surprised you eat this, the recipe called for a lot of cheese. I’ll be at least two pounds heavier by the time I go to bed tonight.”
He followed me to the table, taking the chair across from me and lifting the beer I’d put on the table for him. “I only indulge once a year, whenever my family comes to visit. It’s worth the extra hour I have to put in at the gym the next day.”
I definitely wouldn’t be going to the gym. I just hoped I’d be able to start back up with Whiskey Dolls rehearsals soon so I could stay in shape, even if I wouldn’t be performing any time soon.
The conversation remained stilted and somewhat uncomfortable as we loaded our plates and began to eat. He asked about lunch with Marin and Ms. W. I asked about his day. I wanted to know if there was any news on the asshole who’d broken into my apartment and attacked me, but I didn’t want to risk ruining the evening, and I figured if there was anything to share, he would have by now, so I steered clear of that topic.
“So, what’s the verdict? Did I do your mom’s recipe justice?” I asked as Dalton polished off the last bite of his second helping.
“Yeah, it was really good. Appreciate you doin’ this.”
Come on, Charlie, I silently reprimanded. It’s now or never. Just get it out fast. Like ripping a Band-Aid off.
“I hate how things have been between us,” I spit out. “I know a dinner won’t fix it, but I had to start somewhere.”
“Charlotte—”
I held my hand up to stop him. “No, please, just let me get this out. I miss you like crazy, Dalton. I see you every day. I sleep next to you every night, and I still miss you so much, it’s hard to breathe sometimes.”
He said my name again, but I was too far gone to stop myself.
“You think I haven’t let you in, but the truth is, you’re deeper under my skin than I’ve ever allowed anyone before. I know I’ve been holding myself back, and I want to do better. I want to give you everything, but I need you to know I wasn’t keeping secrets from you because I didn’t trust you. I do trust you. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life. I love you, Dalton. I’m in love with you—”
“Charlotte,
stop,” he ordered, his tone gentle but firm. My heart sank as he leaned forward, reaching across the table to place his hand on mine. “You don’t need to do this.”
The image of him sitting across from me began to blur as tears built in my eyes. “Because it’s too late?” I asked brokenly. “I messed this up too bad, didn’t I?”
He shocked me by smiling, a full smile that made my heart flutter wildly. “No, baby. Because I feel the same way.” My lips parted on a gasp, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe, but he wasn’t done. “These past couple of weeks have been a goddamn misery. I’ve missed you too, more than you can imagine. I just needed some time to get my head straight. I needed to cool off, but once I did, I decided I’d rather have what you’re willing to give me than not have you at all. I love you, and I’ll take as much of you as you’re willing to let me have.”
My chest shook on a stuttered inhale as he sat back, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans, and when he pulled out a long gold necklace and set it on the table in front of me, the tears that had built up began to spill over, leaking from my eyes like a burst pipe.
“Where . . .” I stopped, shaking my head in bewilderment. “Where did you get this?” I asked on a breath as I slowly reached forward, tracing the little heart with my index finger.
“I’ve got a gift when it comes to finding things, sweetheart. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to track your mother’s locket down for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlotte
“Oh my God,” I said on a small, broken sob. “I can’t believe you found it. This is just—” Lifting my hand to cover my mouth, I cried silently, staring down at the only treasure I’d ever had. A treasure I thought was lost to me forever.
“Baby, say something,” Dalton coaxed softly. “Is this a good surprise or a bad one?”
I ripped my gaze from the locket and looked to the man I loved, really and truly looked at him. This incredible man who, time after time, had proven himself in not just words, but in actions too. “It’s good,” I whispered through a trembling smile. “It’s very, very good.”
I shot to my feet and started out of the kitchen when his hand lashed out and his fingers banded around my wrist. “Where are you going?”
I bent at the waist, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He released my hand but stayed in his chair, so I didn’t hesitate to run out of the kitchen to the foyer where I’d hung my purse. I grabbed my wallet, unzipped it, and pulled the two pictures I’d stowed away for safekeeping out of the small slot that was supposed to be used for credit cards. It was where they’d stayed since I took them out when I’d been forced to pawn my mother’s necklace.
Dalton was still seated when I came rushing back into the kitchen, but I could tell from his furrowed brow that he was worried.
“Charlotte, baby, what’s going on?” he asked as I used my thumbnail to open the clasp of the locket.
Only once I had those two pictures placed back into their rightful space did I look back up at him, taking my first full breath in what felt like an eternity.
Clutching the locket tight to my chest, I felt like a piece of me that had been missing for so long had finally snapped back into place, making me more whole than I’d been a moment ago.
Tears were still spilling from my eyes, making tracks down my cheeks when I finally looked back at him. With the locket in my hands, it suddenly felt so much easier to give him the secrets I’d been holding so close to the vest for so long.
Bringing my hands down, I slid the open locket in front of him so he could see the two pictures I’d put inside. They were weathered and faded with age, but the girls staring up at him were both smiling big and bright, like everything was right in their world, because at the time those photos were taken, it was. However, for the little girl on the left, that was one of the last moments she experienced true happiness . . . at least until the man sitting right in front of her came into her life.
“Charlotte,” he started softly, lifting his eyes from the locket to me. “What is this?”
“I told you about my parents dying when I was seven years old, but what I didn’t tell you was that, before I went into foster care, we were taken in by my mother’s cousin and her husband.”
He lifted a questioning brow. “We?”
I pointed to the photo on the right side of the locket. “Me and my sister, Cheyanne,” I admitted in a voice so quiet, it was barely audible. “My little sister, by three whole minutes.”
His eyes widened, that deep gray turning to steel in his eyes. “You’re a twin?”
“Fraternal. Although, we looked a lot alike when we were little.” A fond smile pulled at my lips as I thought back to Cheyanne. I’d spent the past almost two decades not allowing myself to linger too long in memories, but I could still remember her giggle, and the thought of it warmed something inside my chest.
“Charlotte and Cheyanne,” he muttered to himself, tracing his index finger along the picture of me at six years old.
“Yeah. My mom went a little nuts with the whole twin thing. Gave us similar names, dressed us alike, did our hair the same. She loved it.”
He looked up at me, fascination brimming in his expression. “Tell me more.”
That was the first time I’d spoken about my sister in eighteen years, and I found that once I started, it was like a plug had been pulled, and everything came rushing out. “She was my best friend. We did everything together,” I recalled. “We were polar opposites. I was the loud twin, the wild, rebellious one, while Cheyanne was quiet and shy and sweet.”
The tender smile he gave me just then warmed my heart. “I can imagine that.”
“She might have been a lot more reserved than I was, but she still followed me everywhere, did everything I did, whether it scared her or not. She might have been shy, but she was strong, if that makes sense.”
He nodded but remained silent, giving me the chance to gather my thoughts so I could carry on.
Sadness started to creep back in as I continued recounting my childhood. “I didn’t handle my parents’ death very well. It started first as nightmares, but then I began acting out. I was getting in trouble at school. Typical stuff you’d expect from a little girl who was struggling with emotions so much bigger than her mind could wrap around, you know?” I sniffed, batting at a stray tear running down my cheeks.
“Anyway, my mom’s cousin wasn’t anything like her. She wasn’t warm or affectionate. She and her husband weren’t big fans of kids, which is why they didn’t have any of their own. But they were the only family we had, so they were stuck with us.
“I only lived with them for a few months before she decided I was too difficult to handle. They said I was just too much of a trouble maker, but the truth was, they didn’t want to deal with a sad, grieving kid, so—” My voice broke as that warmth I’d been feeling only moments ago dissipated, leaving me chilled from the inside out. I cleared my throat and shot Dalton a sad, watery smile. “They got rid of me.”
“Fuck,” Dalton grated, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists on the table.
“Yeah,” I said with a bitter laugh. “But as our guardians, they were getting money from our parents’ estate, and they didn’t want to give that up completely, so since Cheyanne was less problematic, they decided to keep her.”
“Jesus Christ, baby.” His hand shot across the table, wrapping around both of mine, and I didn’t realize until I looked down that I’d been ripping at my cuticles with my fingernails. “They split you up?”
I nodded, feeling like my chest was being squeezed in a vice. “I still dream about the last time I saw her. That’s why I have so much trouble sleeping. I hear her crying, begging me not to leave her. I’ve done everything I can to bury that memory, but I can still remember it like it happened yesterday.”
“What happened after that? Did you ever see your family again?”
I shook
my head. “Not my mom’s cousin or her husband. I bounced from foster home to foster home, one shitty situation after another until I was sixteen. When I ran away from the last place, I wanted to try and find Cheyanne. It had been nine years since I’d seen her, but there hadn’t been a single day I hadn’t thought about her. She was my sister. My twin. I was missing a piece of my heart, my soul. She was my other half. I wasn’t whole without her.
“Did you ever find her?”
The pain that crashed over me just then was so strong it stole the air from my lungs. I had to squeeze my eyes closed and breathe through it before I could go any further.
“I did,” I finally confessed. “They’d moved to the other side of the town we’d lived in, so it took a while, but about a month and a half after I ran away, I finally managed to track her down.”
He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table and taking my hands in both of his. “And?”
“And . . . she looked happy. I’d spent the past nine years being told by everyone who was supposed to have my back, who was supposed to look out for me, that I was worthless. My own family hadn’t wanted me. I’d been beaten down and used and mistreated to the point I was convinced what they said was right; I was nothing but trouble, a waste of space, unwanted. Then I saw Cheyanne was living a good life . . .”
“And you thought you’d taint it if you reached out to her. Because you believed you were cursed.”
I nodded grimly, ducking my head so the tears falling from my eyes spilled onto the table. “I’d had nine years of misery and pain, and the next time I saw her, she was smiling and laughing with her friends. At first, I was mad or heartbroken . . . same thing, I guess. I had no one and nothing, and she was thriving.” I looked up at him, my vision watery. “How could she be happy when she didn’t have me? But then I realized she was light, and I was dark. She’d always been sweet and gentle. I’d always been loud and difficult. She’d lucked out, plain and simple, and I didn’t want to ruin that. So I left, and I never looked back. I never told anyone about her. I kept her a secret, telling myself I was doing it to keep her safe from all the bad that always followed me everywhere I went. Then—” My throat suddenly felt like I’d swallowed gravel.
Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10) Page 19
