Page 6 of The Charmer
As the plane hits turbulence, I’m gripping the armrests so tightly, my knuckles crack.
My stomach is somewhere around my freshly polished navy-blue toes and my heart is about to come out of my throat. This was a bad idea. I’m not cut out for Reese and sunshine and a beach wedding with his college friends.
“They call me Golden Boy,” he interrupts my downward spiraling thoughts.
“What?” I turn toward him.
His eyes—a vibrant green that reminds me of springtime—hold mine. “My friends, they call me Golden Boy.” He slips his hand over mine, his palm shadowing the back of my hand, as he continues to talk. “In college, I was fully committed to hockey. I barely drank, hardly partied, and spent Friday nights catching up on assignments. Or laundry.”
I crack a smile because I can see it. With his light brown hair, always perfectly trimmed and styled, and dimples, Reese Keller looks golden. Sincere and thoughtful and sweet.
At least, those are the characteristics he’s always shown me, even when I haven’t deserved the benefit of the doubt or the kindness. But he’s also showed his team loyalty and respect, and stepped up whenever needed.
“I can see that,” I admit.
His hand grips mine tighter and I realize that I’m no longer clutching the armrests. Instead, I’ve relaxed under his touch and the soothing sound of his voice.
“I’ve told them about you,” he adds, surprising my further. When he grins, his dimple winks and it’s as endearing as thehesitancy that rings his irises. Like, he doesn’t want to say too much. I don’t know if he’s worried of scaring me off or worried about baring a truth—I’d be worried about both if the roles were reversed—but I don’t want him to stop talking. I want him to tell me everything, if only to ease my insecurities. “The first time we met, I told them.”
My mouth drops open. Because—“The first time we met, you had just signed with the Hawks.”
“Your hair was all black then,” he laughs, tipping his chin toward the blue streaks. “I tried to catch your eye and you ignored me.”
“I saw you,” I counter, my eyes narrowed.
Reese laughs again, the sound easy, like he does it all the time. That’s the difference between us. I only laugh when something’s truly funny; Reese chuckles for amusement. “When Mick, the groom, called to see how my first week with the Hawks went, I told him about you.”
“You did?” I’m shifting toward him now, my elbow brushing his, my handholdinghis.
“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “And after that night at Taps?—”
I grimace, hating everything about that night. Except for the part where I realized what a good man Reese Keller is.
“I don’t know if I stopped talking about you.” His tone is deeper, his voice rumbly. His expression serious.
“Reese—”
“One weekend, Jayde,” he reminds me, squeezing my fingers.
“Yes,” I say, half dazed by the desire shadowing his eyes.
He’s so far out of my league, I don’t know how to respond. My ex-boyfriend couldn’t articulate his feelings, his intentions, if his life depended on it. And I’m not much better. But somehow, with Reese, everything is clear. Honest and open and…sincere. Just like him.
I smile, loving that my smile makes his grow. “Thank you for inviting me,” I add.
He squeezes my fingers again. “I’m glad you came. You have no idea how happy I am to go to this wedding, to have a weekend, with you by my side.”
After that, the flight goes smoother. I barely feel the turbulence. The loop of worries in my mind quiets.
A calmness settles over me and I focus on the feel of my hand in Reese’s. In our connection.
Maybe we’ve always had it and I tried too hard to tune it out. After Reese turned me down, I thought his friendly hellos were him being polite. But maybe that night at Taps was just the beginning. And this weekend, we can see how the rest unfolds.
When the plane touches down in Turks, a glimmer of excitement fills my veins at the possibilities before me.
Reese and I disembark, gather our luggage from baggage claim, and step into the warm, beautiful sunshine. The breeze filters through my hair, his eyes spark, and our weekend together begins.
As we ride in the taxi to the resort, my phone dings with a message.
