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But not Charlie.

Charlie is different. Charlie looks me in the eye when he speaks to me, like he really cares what I’m saying.

O’Malley starts to tug on his leash then, and Charlie clears his voice at the dog to get him to calm down. It works, and O’Malley wags his tail and then finally sits with a groan. I smile at the way Charlie handles his dog. How would he handle me? His hands on my skin and gaze eating up my flesh? I prickle with sensation at the thought of it, and suddenly I want him to do just that, everywhere.

My cheeks flame as I think of all the things I wish Charlie would do to me, but if I focus too long on the pleasurable things I want, I'll never be able to look him in the eye again.

Charlie shifts around me then, body grazing mine as our chests brush and my nipples pebble with arousal.

“You’re wet.”

“W-what?” I breathe, breathless from his body so near mine. Can he really tell? Does he have a sixth sense for my body? I grow more turned on by that thought.

“It must be from earlier.” He hums, and then the unthinkable happens and his hand slips along my waist, drawing me even closer to his hard form. He tugs once at my top, and my eyes follow the gesture down to find I am wet, and the flimsy pajama top isn’t doing much to contain me. Heat waves crawl up my neck and cheeks and I suddenly feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt in my life.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” His voice is low, throaty, and goes straight between my thighs.

“Make me feel so...exposed.”

A half growl clears his lips before he pushes his flannel off of his shoulder and wraps it around mine. It smells like him.

Woodsmoke and pine.

I suck in a soft breath, then think I must look like a freak to be enjoying this so much.

Charlie works to push the buttons through their holes, and in comparison to mine, his hands are wide and dominant. I think of his powerful grip at my waist a moment ago and a hot shiver of ecstasy runs through me. His nostrils flare and he inhales softly, adjusting his stance so his body covers mine in the event anyone drives down my street and catches sight of me. He’s protective, and I'm surprised that I like the feeling that blooms inside of me at that thought. His instincts when it comes to me throw me off kilter, like he can read my mind and my body. Like he can perceive my every move before I can.

Hot water splashes over the side of my trembling tea cup and onto his chest then.

“Ow!”

“Now you’re not the only one wet in this house,” I quip before thinking twice. His barrel laugh echoes around my tiny house and everything about it feels so perfectly right.

7

Seven - Charlie

“I’m sorry!” She clasps her hands over her mouth adorably.

“Sorry? Why? It’s not your fault my dog is a hornball, he’s the one that started all of this.”

She laughs. “I can’t even get tea right. I’m a mess and I shouldn’t be making jokes about it!”

“It’s perfect. Hot as hell, but that’s how I like it.” We sit at the table and she takes a few sips before I think to ask another question. “How long did you say you have been coming to Cherry Falls?”

She licks her lips with every sip and I find myself wishing it was me licking those lush pink pillows. She smiles softly and then replies, “Since I was a baby.”

“I’m so surprised we never met before now. My mom used to place special orders at the bakery all the time, that’s where most of my birthday cakes came from.”

“You had such a wholesome childhood compared to me,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, my dad’s nearest and dearest are more apt to be found in prison than church.”

Her confession hits me hard and I struggle to remember if mom ever mentioned this over the years, but why would she? I was young, and technically, Holly and I didn’t know each other. Not until that night in my Santa getup. Not until O’Malley decided to hump his way into her life.

“You know, my favorite people have always been the broken ones. The survivors. The people they write books about.”

“Me too.” Her reply is so soft it nearly sounds like a whimper.

I hover for a moment at her side, hating my next steps but taking them anyway. “I should get home.”

I lean awkwardly toward her, pressing our cheeks together in a weird kiss my grandma used to do to me. I cringe even now thinking of it, but then sigh with bliss when I realize Holly is in my arms. I want her there all of the time. She belongs there. I can feel it.


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Romance