Page 153 of The Nanny and the Hothead
He picked up her bags, then threw open the door. Striding to the SUV, he tossed her stuff in the back.
“What are you doing? Talk to me!” She rested her hand on his arm. And Christ, he already missed her touch. But he couldn’t give in. He pulled away, then crossed his arms, clenching the heart in his hand.
“You can’t change my mind, Charlotte. And that’s why you need to leave. Take the car and go.”
Her jaw dropped. “What about Oscar and camp? What if something happens?”
He gestured over his shoulder with his chin. “Holly’s truck is in the shed. If my son needs me, I’ll be there.”
“I love your son, and I love you. Stop being such a damned hothead and look at what’s in front of you! Yes, I screwed up. But I’m sorry, and I’m here. Don’t ruin what we have,” she pleaded, her emerald eyes shining.
Her hand went to the key around her neck—the key he’d thought opened his heart. It was a good thing they’d never checked to see if the key opened the lock. It didn’t matter. He knew the truth about her. But that didn’t mean he had the power to look away. He stared at the glinting bit of gold until the hum of a plane passing overhead caught his attention, and they both looked up as three words echoed in his head.
Mr. Cheesy Forever.
“Go to London. Forget about me and Oscar. And Charlotte,” he continued, shattering on the inside. This was killing him, but he had to make a clean break. He had to let the hothead take over.
“Yes,” she answered, gaze burning. If there were a salad in the vicinity, she’d sure as hell hurl it at him.
“Good luck finding your Mr. Cheesy Forever. You were never going to find him here,” he growled.
But Charlotte didn’t back down—not one damn inch.
“If you can’t see the remorse in my eyes and the love in my heart for you and for Oscar, then you’re right. My Mr. Cheesy Forever isn’t here. The only person here is the one who chose to embrace being a hothead over following his heart.”
He clamped his mouth closed to keep from pleading with her to stay. He ignored the twinge in his heart, begging him not to let her go. But that was the sap in him—the sucker. His head knew the truth. He was better off alone. Whenever he let anyone in, the results were catastrophic.
He stood there made of ice, his heart as hard as stone. She studied him for a beat, then two as if she were recording this moment, chronicling the end.
“You could have been him,” she said, her words piercing the silence. “You don’t believe it, but you could have been my Mr. Cheesy Forever. You have everything it takes except the one thing that really matters.”
“And what’s that?” he snarled.
“Trust—you don’t trust yourself with your own heart! I may fall hard and fast, but I know I do it with every piece of myself. I give my whole heart. I’m not perfect. But I know my Mr. Cheesy Forever is out there.”
They stared at each other as if this was some emotional showdown. Her gaze cut with a thousand knives, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t break. She nodded to herself, then released a pained sigh. Her tears had dried, and with one last look, she slipped into the car and disappeared down the drive in a cloud of dust.
Twenty-Six
Charlotte
Charlotte sippedher latte and listened to the hum of the traffic and the sounds of the Crystal Creek business district opening for the day. Closed signs turned to open as merchants unlocked storefront doors and patrons sailed in and out of the coffee shop up the street. The Colorado sun lit the area in a warm golden glow. With the Rocky Mountains as the backdrop, it was the kind of morning that could inspire one to write a song, pen a poem, or snap a photograph.
That’s what she’d been doing these last three days since she’d glanced in the rearview mirror and watched as Mitch’s looming form disappeared. From people to wildlife to shots of the city, she’d taken hundreds of pictures. There was no focus to her work, no theme or directive. She simply observed her environment, then captured the moment.
And now she was here, going back to the beginning, perched on the same bench where she’d met Royce and Larissa almost two months ago. The same bench where she’d stared across the street, praying that this would be the day her life changed.
It certainly had. But not in the way she’d expected.
She’d existed in a strange limbo for the last seventy-two hours. Instead of going back to Mitch’s place, she’d driven to the bustling part of Crystal Creek and had checked into the same boutique hotel where Mitch had arranged for that helicopter to whisk them away. When she’d pulled up to the glitzy building, she wasn’t even sure if she could afford to book a room in their broom closet. But when she’d tapped the banking app on her phone, she’d been rendered speechless.
She was rich—well, rich for her.
Last she’d looked, she had five bucks to her name. Now, thanks to the substantial nanny salary she’d racked up and an enormous retainer fee for her photography work for Gwen’s publishing house, she had over thirty thousand dollars in the bank.
She should be walking on sunshine. Without a cloud in the sky, it was certainly the type of morning for it. But her heart wasn’t there yet. No, her heart belonged to two people she wasn’t sure she’d ever see again. Still, a somber tranquility had taken over when she’d met Mitch’s gaze, standing there as she held her ground in front of the cabin.
In those moments, it had become crystal clear.
