Over the past week, he’d kept his distance, hoping that it would be enough to stop him from doing something that he would regret and…
He loved her.
God, did he fucking love her, but the problem was that his children loved her too and he would never do anything to hurt them. Charlie was the closest thing that they’d ever had to a mother and he wasn’t about to do anything to take that away from them.
Nothing else mattered, not the fact that he wanted her, couldn’t fucking stop thinking about her, or that the idea of never being able to show her how much she meant to him was tearing him apart because his children came first.
“We’d rather go to the party,” Abbi said with a forlorn sigh, bringing him back to reality.
“You’re brutal,” Devin said, chuckling as he took Dustin’s hand in his.
“What do you think?” came the question that drew his attention to the woman that he had to remind himself was off limits at least a hundred times a day.
“You’re pretty,” Dustin said, making the woman that was so much more than pretty smile as Devin slowly ran his eyes over her, taking in the way that her blue eyes sparkled, the soft pink of her lips, the way that her curly hair teased her bare shoulders, her toenails painted white, and the soft white dress that took his breath away.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he found himself saying, unable to take his eyes off her.
She opened her mouth to say something only to frown when Abbi said, “I thought you were mad at Charlie, Daddy.”
“Why would you think I’m mad at Charlie, baby girl?” Devin asked, frowning as he pulled Abbi off his shoulder and placed her on the table even as he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d noticed that he’d been avoiding Charlie over the past week.
“Because you’re always yelling her name, Daddy,” Dustin said, shrugging it off as Devin shared a confused look with the woman in question.
“What are you talking about, sweetie?” Charlie asked as she absently reached over and ran her fingers through Dustin’s messy hair.
“He growls you name,” Abbi said, nodding.
“A lot,” Dustin added with a matching nod.
“When?” Devin asked, wondering what they were talking about since he’d never raised his voice around his children only to feel his stomach drop seconds later.
“When you’re in the shower, Daddy. You yell Charlie’s name,” Dustin said with a shrug.
Oh, god…
“He sounds mad.”
“He really does.”
“He does it almost every night,” Abbi said as Devin stood there as a burning sensation crawled up his neck and he found Charlie staring at him and-
“He’s been doing it for a long time,” Dustin said as he selected another crayon.
“For a very loooooooong time,” Abbi said, only to open her mouth to say something else when Charlie reached over and placed her hand over his baby’s girls mouth with a, “Why don’t you guys show me what movie you picked out for tonight?” and a forced smile that had his stomach turning.
“That’s a good idea,” Devin murmured weakly, clearing his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look Charlie in the eye as he glanced around the room, looking for something to do only to mumble an excuse and head back into the kitchen before they could say something else to make this worse.
“Fuck!” he bit out as he slammed the kitchen door shut behind him before he grabbed hold of the kitchen counter and released a humorless chuckle because this was beyond fucking perfect.
He’d been doing everything that he could think of to make sure that she didn’t know how badly he wanted her and now, because he didn’t add extra insulation to his bathroom walls when he bought the place, she knew just how fucking pathetic he really was.
“Are you going to the party?” came the softly spoken words that let him know that his humiliation wasn’t over yet.
“No,” Devin said evenly as his grip tightened around the counter.
There was a pause and then…
“Are you ever going to look at me again?”
“No,” he said, wondering how this night could possibly get any worse when her next words fucking destroyed him.
“How long?” Charlie asked after a slight hesitation.
“Five years,” Devin said, deciding that there was no point in pretending anymore.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” she asked, sounding hurt.
“Tell you what?” Devin demanded as his grip tightened around the counter to the point of pain. “What was I supposed to tell you? That I can’t stop thinking about you? That I’ve wanted you from the moment that I saw you? That I’m so fucking in love with you that it’s killing me? That it doesn’t matter because I can’t risk breaking my children’s hearts if this doesn’t work out? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
For a moment, she didn’t say anything and then…
“You really don’t know me if you think that I would ever do anything to hurt Dustin or Abbi. I love them and no matter what happens between you and me, that will never change,” she bit out evenly.
“I can’t risk it,” he said, feeling sick to his stomach as he forced the words out.
“And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me all week,” she said, sighing heavily.
“Yes,” he said, praying that she would just leave before he lost his fucking mind.
“I see,” she murmured, sounding thoughtful before adding, “I’m not playing this game with you, Devin.”
“It’s not a game,” he bit out angrily.
“What would you call it?”
“Keeping my promise,” he said evenly, wishing like hell that there was another way but he couldn’t risk it.
He couldn’t fucking risk it, Devin reminded himself as he squeezed his eyes shut and-
“Even if it means breaking my heart?” came the softly spoken words that had him opening his eyes and glancing over his shoulder in time to watch her walk away.
Chapter 23
“I’m having a great time, how about you?” Ben asked dryly as he dropped down in the booth across from her with a heavy sigh.
“The best,” Charlie said, matching his sigh with one of her own as she sat there, trying to figure out what she was doing here.
“Move in with me,” he said, making her frown as she glanced away from the dance floor filled to capa
city with Bradford Creation employees, their dates, venders, and local customers that looked forward to this party all year and-
“Hey!” Ben snapped when she was forced to take his drink away, because clearly, he’d already had too much to drink if he thought that she was going to move in with him.
“You’re cut off,” Charlie said as she handed the bottle of beer to a passing waitress.
“I was still drinking that,” he grumbled as he watched the waitress walk away while Charlie sat there wondering if she should arrange for an intervention.
“And you’ve clearly had enough if you think I’m going to willingly move in with you again after what you put me through in college,” she said with a pitying shake of her head as she watched his eyes narrow dangerously on her.
“I thought we’d agreed never to speak of that,” he bit out.
“Then don’t ask me to move in with you knowing how it will end,” Charlie said, reaching for her drink only to have Ben get to it first.
“We were kids,” he pointed out.
“And we were both Googling the asking price for hitmen,” she reminded him, thankful for the distraction from her rather depressing thoughts.
“You want to talk about it?” Ben asked, sending her another one of those concerned looks that he’d been sending her since he picked her up a few hours ago.
“Not even a little bit,” she said, shaking her head as she found herself glancing at the clock above the bar, wishing that midnight would hurry up so that they could leave.
“Fair enough,” Ben said, finishing off her drink before he stood up and held his hand out. “Come dance with me.”
“I would rather wallow in self-pity,” Charlie said, only to groan when he reached over and took her hand, giving her no other choice but to leave the sanctuary of her booth.
“How about this?” he said, leading her towards the bar. “I’ll grab our coats while you pay off our tab and we’ll get the hell out of here, grab a shitload of alcohol and head back to my place where we’ll get drunk, pass out on the floor, and wake up in the morning ninety percent sure that we’re dying while we try to figure out whose asinine idea it was to drink in the first place.”