Chapter 5
CHARLIE
Brad nods, but he looks like a kicked puppy. Am I that pathetic that I need protection from the overly involved people of this town? Of farmers and librarians? I especially don’t need Brad handling things for me like I’m some Victorian maiden.
And no, I will not be thinking about Brad handling me. Then maybe stop staring at his hands, Charlie.
But I can’t look away as Brad taps his fingers on the table. He has nice hands. Blunt nails. Strong fingers. “I know you’re an adult. A capable adult,” he adds. “I swear I’m trying.”
I force myself to meet his gaze. “That’s not good enough. We’ll be on-site on Tuesday. And I can’t have you undermining me.”
“I would never do that.”
I lean back and cross my arms. “Really.”
“That’s not my intention—”
“Coming to my rescue suggests I need rescuing, Brad.” I take a drink of my water to calm down.
“I’d like to change the preconceived notions people have about me…
” I press my lips together to hold in the rest of my words.
No sense in mentioning the orange-soda incident or the video.
“Not reinforce them because I need my dad’s best friend to save me. ”
His forehead creases, and I glance away, staring instead at the picture of Charles Dixon on the far wall. I raise my chin. When I get emotional, I cry. And I hate it.
Grow up, Charlie.
Syd was a jerk. Still is a jerk, I’m sure. But that doesn’t make him wrong about everything.
“When I signed up for this project, I had no idea you were in charge. Or that you’d moved back home,” Brad says with a bit of pleading in his tone. “I mean, obviously, or I wouldn’t have—you know.”
“You know?” I’m enjoying his discomfort way too much. “You mean sent me a dick pic?”
“Charlie.” My name is barely a whisper.
Huh. Coach Rathborn blushes? Who knew? His face isn’t as bright as the stop sign right outside—like mine usually gets—but I can make out the tinge of pink on his neck and the tips of his ears. It’s adorable. Irresistible.
No. It’s slightly amusing and nothing more.
“We should talk about the party.” I forge ahead, squashing my traitorous heart and adulting my ass off. “How do we know they don’t already have plans?”
“I told you. I checked with your dad. He said they were planning a quiet night at home.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe you should read all your text messages.”
I’d enjoy this sassy side if it didn’t make Brad harder to resist. Not that he’s actually interested in me. He found me attractive, sure—and my mind gets stuck on that. Coach Rathborn thinks I’m attractive. More than that, he’s attracted to me.
“Charlie?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He grins. “You zoned out on me.”
“I’m fine.” I gesture toward him. “Go on.”
“I did check again—”
“More coffee, Coach?” Dani Rae gives Brad a bright smile, and at his nod, she fills his cup. When she turns to me, she’s still smiling, but it’s faker than her eyelashes. “More water, Charlie?” She hesitates, and it’s not even a full beat. “Sorry, but we’re all out of orange soda.”
Brad straightens in his chair, and I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything.
I tap my chin. “What about strawberry soda? It would match the pink highlights in your hair.”
Even her fake smile drops this time, and she flounces off.
Brad chuckles, and lord, it does things to me. “I wouldn’t order anything else if I were you.”
“Agreed.”
As I stare down at my empty plate, I think about Dani Rae and the other contestants.
I wasn’t the only one humiliated that day.
Or the only one enduring the added humiliation via video year after year.
“I never apologized to her. I mean, I’ve seen the video, so I know I chanted ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ about a million times. But I haven’t really apologized.”
His hand covers mine, strong and sure. The rush of arousal hijacks my brain. And his low, sexy voice doesn’t help. “You’re a good person, Charlie—Chas. Sorry, I keep forgetting.”
“It’s fine.”
Our eyes meet, and my mouth goes dry. I need to move my hand. I can’t get involved with my dad’s best friend. With one of my volunteers. But it’s so hard to remember that when Brad is staring at me as if his BLT wasn’t enough and he’s still hungry.
A flash of red catches my attention. Mrs. Witten. The head of the school board. I jerk my hand away and smile. She hesitates as if she doesn’t want to bother us. Ha. She has no issue bothering my mom at home.
“Hello there, gentlemen,” she says in a high-pitched yet grating voice. Nails meet chalkboard. “Charlie, it’s so good to see you home.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to be back.” I smile and give her the same spiel I’ve given everyone else.
Maybe just not as warmly. Then I wait for the rest. Because I know what she’s going to say.
I’ve heard it from everyone who’s stopped by to say hello.
I actually prefer talking to Dani Rae. She’s rude, but at least she’s honest.
“I hope this means you’re going to stick around Dixon Hills.”
The only thing keeping me from standing up on this table and announcing it to the entire diner is the smile on Brad’s face that he’s desperately trying to hide.
I bite back a smile and nod. But this feeling—sharing this moment with him—sends bubbles of joy throughout my body and shit.
Tiny setback. But it’s fine. I can do this. Prove to Raja that they hired the right person for the job. And prove to this town and my parents—and especially Brad—that I can take care of myself. All while resisting the yummy but tempting Coach Rathborn.