Chapter Eleven #4
We return to Charlie’s house, feed Cupcake dinner, then get ready for our date.
I take a long shower in the guest room so I smell amazing, instead of like a coffee shop and posthurricane cleanup.
Charlie does the same. I apply extra cologne and stand in front of the mirror once I’m dressed.
I’m wearing a violet cardigan that’s fuzzy but will keep me warm at night, as well as a tight black T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a trusty pair of Converse that have seen better days but are still perfect to me.
When I open the guest room door, I find Charlie opening his door too, both of us staring at each other in the orange-colored late evening light.
He’s wearing dark blue jeans that perfectly hug his hips and thighs and a black-and-white flannel shirt.
Surely, we shouldn’t go together, but we do, like some sort of matched set.
Charlie’s grin is soft, stirring up those giant fucking butterflies in my belly that could no doubt lift me off into space if I let them.
“You look handsome,” Charlie says roughly, gaze caught on my lips.
“I like your flannel,” I say back, a squeak in my voice.
Going slow has never seemed so tortuous.
Charlie takes my hand in his, entwining our fingers gently, and tugs me toward the front of the house.
He spends a moment making sure Cupcake is comfortable, all tucked into her dog bed in front of the fireplace.
Cupcake looks at me expectantly, so I dip down to kiss her wet nose.
She snorts in my face, which only makes me laugh, and in turn makes Charlie’s grin turn soppy and happy.
Charlie opens the truck door for me, and I hop in with a grin. “Let’s take the truck, but I’ll play navigator.”
“Hmmm, okay. Suspicious.”
I point at myself. “Me? Suspicious? Never.”
Charlie just laughs. I’ve laughed more the past few weeks than I have in years.
I think that’s more healing than anything else here at home.
I give Charlie directions, easily navigating him toward the marina.
Thankfully the hurricane wasn’t much of anything, so the marina is open, and the water is gentler now that the hurricane has moved away and inland.
Charlie raises one eyebrow as he parks. “Boats?”
“Better than that, you’ll see.”
We hop out of the truck at the same time.
The air is cool and my hand warms right up as Charlie tangles our fingers together.
I swing our hands back and forth a few times, trying my best not to grin at him like a fool.
The marina is mostly empty, because not many people are biting to go out on the water on a Wednesday evening after a hurricane passed through.
Seagulls caw overhead as we walk silently toward the catamaran I know has one of my favorite people on it.
“Yooooooo!” Scott calls out with arms wide open. “She’s all yours tonight. Well, except for me, because I’m the captain, but yeah. I won’t be watching. I also won’t ask about football.” Scott mimes zipping his lips and then throwing the key away. “Erica gave me a stern talking-to, don’t worry.”
Charlie turns a slightly frightened gaze toward me.
“If he bothers us, I’ll kill him,” I say loudly so that Scott can hear, which only makes him chuckle and dip behind the wheel.
We climb aboard, me first, with Charlie’s hand in mine as he follows me on board.
Just like I’d asked, there’s a basket of food on the netting at the front of the catamaran, two blankets, and what looks like sparkling grape juice.
I look back at Scott, give him a thumbs-up, then smile when he disappears from view so we can’t be seen.
“Tucker,” Charlie says softly as he stares down at me with so much hope in his gaze that my chest aches a little. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”
“I’ve never taken someone on a date before. I’m glad my first time is with you.”
Charlie lifts his hand to my face, swiping his thumb across my lips before dipping down to kiss me gently.
Butterfly kisses will never get old. When he pulls away, I grin up at him in sheer happiness.
We settle in on the netting, tossing the blankets over our respective laps.
Scott undocks the boat and lets us out of the marina with his expert skill.
“In high school Scott got us lost on the coast in this thing,” I say as I open the basket.
Charlie stares at me. “Why would you tell me that just as we undock,” he deadpans, gladly accepting the wrapped plate of fruit. Normally, I’d not accept premade food from anyone, but I know Erica made it, so I know she took particular care in her kitchen to ensure all of it was safe for me.
“Well, it’s a funny story. You see—”
“No, please,” Charlie interrupts me with a belly laugh. “I’m sure the story is hilarious, but maybe tell me once we’re back on dry land.”
“Fair enough.” The boat breaks through the safety of the marina and canal to take us out into the open water. The sun is starting to set over the island behind us, and the waves are gentle, the boat just coasting along. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see some dolphins. “But it really is a funny story.”
“I’m sure,” Charlie says blandly as he thoughtfully chews on a grape. “When I was with San Diego, we took a team vacation one summer to Lake Tahoe. I got on a boat with them and swore I never would again. Speedboats are not my style. I like this way better.”
“Oh yeah, speedboats are for psychos.”
Charlie laughs, big and loud. “That’s a little much.”
“Is it?”
“Maybe not,” Charlie agrees. He leans forward to peek into the basket, grinning over at me when he notices the prepackaged gluten-free chocolate-covered cookie dough bites. “Dessert too,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
I wiggle my eyebrows back. “Maybe you’ll get two desserts tonight.”
“You’re really smooth, Tucker James.”
“Not really… I’ve never done this before.”
“Date?”
“No.” I play with the edge of my cardigan, suddenly shy. “Woo someone.”
“You don’t have to woo me, Tucker.” Charlie reaches out to swipe his fingers across my cheek, then he tenderly cups it with a heartbreaking smile. “I’m already wooed.”
There goes my heart again.
We eat our charcuterie in silence, but as Charlie watches the water, I watch Charlie.
His hair whips into his face sometimes, but he just moves it aside, no annoyance or anger.
He has crinkles at the corner of his eyes that deepen when I make him laugh.
The crinkles speak of joy and lightness, of years of laughter that prove how good of a person he is.
I only realize how long I’ve been staring when Charlie perks up with childlike wonder. Seeing a giant six-foot-something man grin like it’s Christmas morning is an experience I want to repeat for the rest of my life.
“A dolphin!”
I scoot over on the net closer to Charlie, peeking over his shoulder to see where he’s pointing.
Sure enough, there’s a dolphin. Actually, it’s multiple dolphins.
Charlie sighs happily and leans back against me, soft and gentle.
I curl my arm around his waist, pressing my hand against his stomach with a smile into his neck.
“Lots of dolphins out here in the ocean.”
Charlie chuckles. “Little shit. It’s exciting! I’ve never seen a wild one before. It feels like seeing a unicorn.”
“I get it.” I kiss his neck gently while splaying my hand just over his belly button. His breath stutters in his chest before releasing softly. He turns his head toward me, and I kiss him because I can’t do anything else.
Charlie kisses me back like he always does, like he’s comfortable to let me lead and he’ll follow me anywhere.
I tug my hand out from under his shirt and use it to cup his jaw, wanting to kiss him forever.
The salt air moves around us, drops of water spraying us when we hit a particularly large wave, but I can’t break away from him. Not now.
When Charlie moans against my mouth, I tug away to take a deep breath. Charlie’s eyes are closed tight, his lips kiss-bitten red, and I’ve never found him more beautiful. I drop my hand from his jaw, instead using it to rub his knee.
“How’s your knee?”
“Hurts,” Charlie admits, as if he’s forgotten to keep any sort of wall up with me.
“Straighten it out,” I order, voice rough even to my ears.
Charlie opens his eyes back up and immediately does as I said.
He winces through the movement, but again does his best to hide it.
I see it though. I see it all. I press harder against him and use my hand to massage the muscle above his knee.
Charlie’s moan is borderline pornographic, his eyes closed from the bliss of the tender touch.
I massage his knee and leg for a while, until he’s leaning heavily against me, almost appearing to be asleep.
But when I stop, his eyes blink open and he smiles a dopey sort of smile at me.
“Thank you,” Charlie says softly.
“You’re welcome.”
The night suddenly takes on a different edge.
We’re quiet as the boat returns to the marina, quiet as we disembark.
Even Scott looks at me strangely when I don’t make any sort of sarcastic quip to him about the quality of his captaincy.
I dip my hand into Charlie’s pocket, tugging out the keys to his truck in silent request. I open the passenger door for Charlie like he always does for me and help him inside.
He takes care of me so much, and I want to care for him back. We can take care of one another.