Page 18 of Reckless Chances
Chapter 7 – Charlie
Charlie took the stairstwo at a time, careful not to let the tray of coffee tip as he rushed to get back to Emma. He was the best kind of tired, groggy from lack of sleep, and full of adrenaline from the touch of a new woman. The first woman he could imagine waking up next to every single day – if she stayed. He reminded himself not to get too excited.
He knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside. When he had left, the sun had just risen, and Emma was breathing softly, twisted in the messy tangle of sheets. Now, she was sitting up, holding the quilt to her chest.
“Em.” He smiled and set down the tray of drinks on the table.
She didn’t respond right away and that’s when he saw that her eyes were rimmed in red. “Emma,” he rushed to the bed. “Are you okay?”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he inhaled her scent, filling himself back up, it was a smell he never wanted to be without. He pressed his palm firmly on her back. She whispered into his ear, “I thought you left.”
“You didn’t get my note?” He pulled away and wiped the dampness from her cheek with his thumb.
“Note?”
“I left it on the pillow.”
Emma shook her head. “I didn’t see a note.”
Charlie stretched to the top of the bed and shook the pillow. He peered over the edge and saw that the piece of yellow paper had fallen into the space between the mattress and the bedframe. “Here,” he plucked it from its hiding place and handed it to her. He watched her eyes as they tracked over the paper, reading his barely legible chicken scratches.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I feel ridiculous right now.”
Charlie tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s totally understandable.” He was touched, she truly cared about him, but he also felt terrible for letting her think that he had pulled a midnight runner on her. “Emma,” he said as he took her hand in his, the note still clutched in her fingers, crumpled as he squeezed her hands. “Last night meant something to me. Like, really meant something.”
“It meant something for me too,” she sniffed, her face growing brighter, her eyes getting sparklier by the second. “I just... I’ve been through a lot lately...” she hesitated. “I’m sorry for jumping conclusions.” It seemed like she wanted to say more, to explain, but Charlie didn’t prod. They had plenty of time to get to know each other.
Instead of speaking, he smiled and kissed her slowly, letting their lips linger longer, allowing his lips and touch to tell her more than any words that he could’ve spoken.
She pulled away and pointed to the shopping bag on the kitchen island. “More whipped cream?” She bit her lip and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants.
“Easy tigress,” he laughed. “I’m going to make you some crepes.”
“Oh,” she looked disappointed.
“If there’s some left over, I’m sure we can find a use for it,” he added.
“How the heck did you get groceries at this time of day?” she glanced to the clock. It was seven thirty in the morning.
“Megan at the Sugar Peaks café gave it to me,” he smiled. “The perks to knowing everyone in town, we all help each other out. God knows I’ve given Freddie enough beer from the back door of the tavern.” He hopped up from the bed and grabbed the coffee tray, handing her a cup. “I didn’t know what you took in it, so it’s black.”
“That’s how I take it,” she smiled and took a sip.
“You relax and let me spoil you,” he said.
“Not a chance.” She dropped the sheet, exposing her bare chest. He loved the fact that she wasn’t bashful or shy around him. It was something he found ridiculous, that women would hide their bodies in the daylight after he had already seen or felt every inch of them. She pulled on her tank top and cute striped pajamas, “Let me help you.” She fixed her hair into a ponytail.
Watching her, Charlie knew that he was falling fast hard and falling hard. If he needed to put a stop to this relationship, he needed to now, or yesterday, otherwise he was going to barrel on full steam ahead. There was going to be no stopping him. “I have an idea,” he said.
“What?” she paused doing up the drawstring on her pants.
“Let’s have breakfast at my house.”
“Okay,” Emma said. “Sure. Just give me a second to put on real clothes.”
If Emma was going to go running for the hills, showing her the way he lived would just accelerate the process. He needed to see her reaction to his lifestyle because it wasn’t going to change. Emma slid into a pair of skinny jeans, a pale pink lace bra and white T-shirt. “I’ll just brush my teeth and then I’m ready to go.”
Charlie couldn’t believe it. She had just gotten ready in less than two minutes flat.
