Chapter 5 Cole Twelve years previous
Cole
Twelve years previous
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
Charlotte dug into the hamper and laid out more and more food on the picnic blanket. “It’s nothing.”
I grabbed a chunk of crumbly homemade shortbread and sat back to admire the view of the stone houses in the valley below. The moor stretched around us, stark and beautiful. The gentle bleats of sheep drifted on air crisp with the tang of cut grass.
I’d miss nothing about school, but I’d miss all of this. Ecclesdale was so far removed from everything, it was another planet. I’d been distraught when Dad had sent me up here, but it was a different life. A kind of peace that was impossible to find anywhere else.
Charlotte passed me a soft drink from the cooler. “Your parents are going to take you to The Ritz or somewhere fancy to celebrate tomorrow and I’m here feeding you Scotch eggs and pickled onions.”
The shortbread got caught in my throat and made me cough.
Yes, my dad would take me somewhere expensive, but it wouldn’t be celebration on his mind.
Ever since his assistant had rung to tell me Dad was flying in from New York to discuss “something important”, I hadn’t slept.
My heart wouldn’t stop pounding at the thought of whatever he was about to drop on me.
God only knew what punishment he’d concocted for whatever perceived slight.
With Sir Philip Thorner, it could be anything.
The many colorful bracelets on Charlotte’s wrist jangled as she held up her can of lemonade. “A toast. To you and your big clever brain for acing all of your exams. This is it for you now. You’re going to be a history professor, dressed in tweed, in some oak-paneled office.”
“Sounds perfect. Although I’m never going to be able to pull off tweed the way Roy does.” I clinked my can against hers. “And here’s to you on your way to the big city. I can’t wait for my invite to your first big exhibition.”
She gave me a weak smile and sipped her drink.
“What’s the matter? You’re supposed to look happy.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest and retied the lace on her sparkly purple Doc Marten. “Nothing. I’m just freaking out. It’s a lot to process. I feel . . .” She chewed her lip and shrugged one shoulder.
I turned to give her my full attention. Surely she wasn’t having second thoughts about art school? “What?”
She blew out a long sigh. “Honestly? Guilty. Tiff hardly ever comes home. I don’t want to leave him on his own. It feels selfish.”
“Roy? He’ll be fine. I’ve never met anyone happier in their own company. He’ll spend his time reading and pottering around and when he finally looks up from his books, you’ll be home for Christmas.”
She picked a daisy and began plucking off the petals. “I know, he’s just been . . . off lately. He doesn’t seem himself. I don’t know what it is. Have you noticed him acting . . . weird?”
Roy had always been an eccentric. He could give a blow-by-blow account of the Battle of Trafalgar, but he couldn’t make toast without burning it if left unsupervised in the kitchen. “Not really. He’s just Roy.”
“It’s not just Dad.” She swallowed and darted a glance at me. “We won’t see each other much anymore.”
“Oxford is an hour away from London. I told you, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
She kept her gaze fixed on the village in the valley below. “It won’t be the same.”
“No, it’s going to be even better. I can’t wait to show you London.
You’re going to adore it, and Roy’s already said I can come back and spend Christmas here.
It’s not that long.” I poked her in the ribs.
“You’re getting out of here. It’s what you’ve always wanted.
Life is about to start. You’re allowed to be excited about it, you know. ”
She flicked her thick dark-chestnut hair over her shoulder and peered at me. Her voice was soft. “The truth is, I’m going to miss you, that’s all.”
Some scratchy feeling made my chest tight. “I’ll miss you, too.” More than you’ll ever know.
I’d been coming over to study for years so I could spend time in Charlotte’s orbit.
Getting away from that grim school was just a bonus.
Things had been different between us the past couple of months.
So much of our time together felt charged, like maybe Charlotte was finally looking at me the way I’d always dreamed she would.
I hadn’t dared jeopardize what we had. There was too much at stake.
If I couldn’t come over to the Ackroyd house, then there was nothing for me in Ecclesdale.
Sheep bleating grew loud, piercing the stretching silence.
Things were different now. We were both leaving.
This was the right time to tell her how I felt.
There was still too much to lose, but everything to gain.
This could be the start of a new chapter.
I opened my mouth to try and articulate it, but she spoke before I could.
“I’d love to meet your family. It should be easier when I’m in London.”
Coldness spread through me. “They’re not in London much.”
She turned to face me. “But sometimes they must be?”
“Maybe. I’m sure we can figure something out.”
She swallowed, and her voice took on a brittle edge. “Are you embarrassed by me?”
Are you kidding me? “Of course not.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
“I have a present for you, anyway.” She dug into the hamper, pulled out a picture in a frame and handed it to me. It was a watercolor of the view in front of us—Ecclesdale with its little stone houses and rolling green fields beneath wispy clouds.
“You did this?”
She nodded and shot me a shy glance. “I thought you could take a piece of Yorkshire with you.”
A pang pulled at my heart. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I grabbed her hand. “Listen, you could never embarrass me. My family is just . . . it’s not like yours.
When I came up here, I wanted to leave it all behind.
” My skin prickled with shame. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but the words would never come.
“My family aren’t close. It’s difficult sometimes, but you’ll meet them one day, I’m sure. It’s not you. Never think that.”
She looked down where our hands joined. The wind lifted her hair and blew it off her face. Her cheeks and nose were pink with the cold. She’d never looked more beautiful.
“You survived Ashcombe. You must be relieved you don’t have to go back,” she said.
“I hate that school, but I wouldn’t change anything, because it brought me to your family . . . to you.”
She hadn’t let go of my hand. I twisted it in mine and studied her violet nail varnish.
“You don’t ever have to worry about anything in your future. Your life is about to begin, Charlotte.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
She bit her lip and peered at me. There was something so fascinating about the movement, I couldn’t help but fixate on her mouth.
Her voice was a murmur. “You’re staring at me.”
I tore my gaze away. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I wonder if . . .” I took a breath, searching for the right words, but my heart was racing too much to find anything eloquent. “I want to kiss you.”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “What?”
Shock went through me. I’d actually said it. I’d started now. Too late to back down. My breath came in sharp snatches. “Actually, I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
The wind whipped a strand of hair across her face, and I brushed it away from her cold cheek. Any excuse to touch her. “Because I didn’t want to fuck things up between us.”
A small smile ghosted her lips. “But you don’t mind fucking it up now?”
“You can tell me no, and it doesn’t have to be weird. I’ll never mention it again.”
Everything inside me was wound so tight. Nothing in the world mattered apart from her next words. All traces of humor vanished from her visage. Her eyes darted over my face, reading my expression. Her voice barely broke a whisper.
“It won’t fuck things up.”
Oh, thank God. My shoulders dropped with sudden relief. Is this a good idea? What if it ruins everything? But how could it when it feels like this? Fuck it. I lifted her chin, tilting her face toward me. “I hope I can live up to all those books you read.”
I covered my mouth with hers, then I was drowning in sensation.
The soft press of her lips. Her tongue exploring the recesses of my mouth, insistent and probing.
Her lemonade taste. Feverish warmth all over my body.
Finally. Finally. I was kissing her. Charlotte was kissing me. I’d waited for this for so many years.
I pulled her tight against me and she whimpered.
Closer. I wanted to get lost in her. No one knew me like this woman.
She was the only person I could be myself around.
It was so hard to open up to anyone, but I wanted to give her a map to all the places inside of me that I kept hidden from everyone else.
With Charlotte, I was funnier, and cleverer, and .
. . just better than I had any right to be. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
Her hand came to rest lightly on my neck. It sent sparks of electricity all over my body. My insides were heavy and light at the same time, like I could float away, only I wouldn’t because Charlotte Ackroyd would always tether me. I felt her smile against my lips before she broke away.
Pink tinged her cheeks. Her grin was the widest and most unguarded I’d ever seen. So beautiful. So funny and wise. So under my skin that she’d peeled it back. I traced the smooth line of her jaw with my thumb. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that.”