Page 17 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
Kayla peppers Yvette with wedding-related questions, and after a few minutes, we start to clear the table. I go back for another load of dishes and I catch sight of Charlie’s invitation, still in front of his chair. Healsogets a guest.
Something tugs at me uncomfortably. Charlie had RSVP’d to Kayla and Jasper’s wedding last year, but then he’d had to back out at the last minute. I think he’d been ill.
I don’t talk to Charlie at all after dinner and don’t even see him go to bed. Which is fine by me, but when I get woken up the next morning, it’s not by Naomi’s alarm. Her bed is empty, and my phone says it’s 7:38.
It’s a rhythmic buzzing through the wall.
At first I think,Ew, one of my sisters is using a vibrator.But then I remember it’s Charlie on the other side.
I get up, throw on a bathrobe, and tiptoe out of my room and to Charlie’s. I attempt to knock lightly, but his door creaks open under the pressure.
“Charlie?” I whisper.
He’s asleep on his back, one arm stretching out from under the comforter and his face relaxed.
“Charlie?” I say louder.
He mumbles and turns onto his side. The bedding is up to his chin and I have to admit, it’s adorable how tucked in he is.
I stand by the side of the bed and lean over, placing a hand on his torso. The quilt is lavender and silky under my palm.
Charlie still doesn’t wake up, but I nearly jump out of my skin when his hand hits the back of my knee.
“Mmm,” he grunts. “Come back to bed.”
I freeze. Who does he think is waking him up? My heart, the stupid, careless thing that it is, aches. Just because Charlie didn’t bring anyone to Christmas doesn’t mean he’s not dating or sleeping with someone...or multiple someones. Charlie is objectively hot, and women love tech bros—just look at my boss, who was often on hottest-bachelor lists—and I’m sure he’s had plenty of sex since we’ve broken up and it’s too early in the morning and I’m unprepared to think so much about Charlie’s sex life before I’ve had my coffee and?—
“Bea,” Charlie says, louder this time. “Come back to bed.”
His hand slides up the back of my thigh, beneath my robe, almost to my butt, and squeezes the muscle there.
Me?
I look down at Charlie. His eyes are still closed, and the fingers wrapped around me relax as he falls back into sleep.
Why would Charlie say my name?
His phone, which had stopped buzzing on the nightstand, starts up again.
I shove his arm away and then push his shoulder hard enough to flip him to his back and jolt him awake.
He blinks up at me in surprise.
“Charlie, your phone’s ringing,” I snap.
I turn and stomp out of the room, mad at myself for getting so flustered over something so stupid.
10
Charlie
“How isit that I’m the only one in our family who doesn’t know how to ski?” Bea asks. She’s dressed in navy snow pants and Naomi braided her hair this morning after breakfast while Bea applied some makeup.
We’re at Sirens’ Valley Lodge on Sunday morning, and it’s taken us almost an hour and a half to get everyone ski passes and rentals going. I’m sweating in my layers, having made sure everyone’s stuff got carried from the gear counter to a cluster of picnic tables where most of the family is sitting and having an early lunch from the snack bar.
The call that woke Bea up was Arlo. He had a few questions for me about the due diligence—mostly around my sales staff contracts—and wanted to catch me before the day got started. He’d been just as surprised as I was that I’d slept in past seven—vacation was getting to me.
But talking to Arlo first thing in the morning was exactly the wake-up call I needed to get some work done before the house was awake, and I was feeling productive already today.
