Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
CHARLOTTE
“Have a good lunch?”
Trent’s question pulled me back to the present.
Ms. Weatherby’s story had been bouncing around inside my head since the moment Marin and I said our goodbyes earlier.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what she’d said, her not-so-subtle comment about love being more important than pride and secrets.
Damn intuitive woman.
“Yeah, I did,” I answered, pulling my attention away from the passenger window. “I mean, the food was . . .” I shivered visibly.
He let out a low chuckle. “That bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say you really owe me. Ms. W was gearing up to pack the rest of the leftovers for you, but I told her you had a food sensitivity. You’re welcome.”
“Consider me in your debt, then.” His lips pulled into a grin, and even from his profile, I could see it was a really great smile.
I didn’t know if it was something in the water at Alpha Omega, or maybe a job requirement, but the men who worked with Dalton were really something.
Every . . . damn . . . one of them. The women in Hope Valley were never lacking for eye candy, that was for damn sure.
“Your neighbor, she’s quite the character, huh? ”
I smiled as I thought about the little old lady full of wisdom. “She’s a trip and really good people. It was good to get out and spend some time with friends. Thanks for taking me.”
“Not a problem.” He tapped out an unknown beat on the steering wheel, keeping his attention on the road ahead of us as he drove. “Dalton gave me a heads-up that he was working to set something up yesterday. He knew you were goin’ crazy being stuck inside and wanted to give you a break.”
I turned to look out the window again, feeling a million different kinds of awful. “I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
“Who doesn’t screw up every once in a while, sweetheart? It’s not about how badly you mess up. It’s about how you try to fix it.”
“And if you were in my shoes?” I asked, unable to hide the hopefulness from my voice. “How would you go about fixing it?”
I caught that smirk of his again. “Well, I can’t speak for him, but I know one way that’d work with me.”
I gave him a bland expression and dead-panned, “If you make a sex joke right now, I’m gonna punch you right in the throat.”
That earned me a full-blown laugh, which was only slightly less appealing than Dalton’s. “Get your head out of the gutter, woman. I was talkin’ about food.”
Food. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that?
I wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, but I could hold my own.
Fortunately, I knew someone who was incredible in the kitchen and had first-hand knowledge of all of Dalton’s favorite foods.
And it just so happened, she and her husband had extended her trip to Hope Valley after my little hospital stay, refusing to leave until I was on the mend.
It was time to call in the cavalry.
I’d made Trent and Lorene promise not to say anything to Dalton about the special dinner I spent the majority of the afternoon preparing.
My anxiety had gotten the better of me in the beginning, and there’d been a teensy little fire, but once we got that put out—thanks to Trent—it was smooth sailing.
Now Lorene was gone, back to the lake house she and Walt were staying at, and Trent was in the living room, watching something mind-numbing on ESPN while I put the finishing touches on the meal.
The kitchen table tucked into the bay window off the kitchen was set, and I’d just uncapped a bottle of Dalton’s favorite beer when the sound of his truck rumbling up the driveway carried through the house.
My stomach erupted with a flurry of butterflies as the front door opened, and a moment after that, the TV was flipped off.
I stood frozen in place, listening to the low, muffled voices as Trent and Dalton greeted each other in the foyer. A second later, Trent called out, “Night, Charlie. See you later.”
“Later, Trent,” I returned. “Have a good night.”
I heard the sound of the door shutting then Dalton’s boots against the wood floors as he started toward the kitchen.
“It smells like smoke in here. What happened—” The question died on his lips when he rounded the corner into the kitchen. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“I made dinner,” I chirped nervously. “And, okay, so there was an itty bitty fire”—I pinched my thumb and index finger together less than a centimeter apart— “but it was easily contained and didn’t cause any damage.”
Dalton’s eyes bugged out. “There was a fire?”
“More like a baby fire,” I rambled. “And like I said, we got it put out in no time, and now I know not to keep dishtowels anywhere near the stove. Luckily none of the food burned, and your mom assured me it wasn’t just edible, but actually pretty tasty.”
He didn’t look any less confused as he asked, “My mother was here?”
I gripped my hands together in front of me, twisting and untwisting my fingers as I admitted, “I wanted to cook you a nice dinner, but, well . . .” My face pulled into a cringe, “I’m not really much of a cook.
I mean, I can cook basic stuff, but I never really had anyone teach me, and I wanted it to be good, so I called Lorene.
She helped me. And, well . . .” I threw my arms out at my sides.
“There you go. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I got you beer.”
His mouth twitched with a surpassed grin. “Take a breath, Thumbelina. Before you pass out.”
The air whooshed from my lungs on a harsh exhale. That was the first Thumbelina I’d gotten in two weeks, and it felt damn good. Not as good as baby, but still.
He took a step farther into the kitchen, looking around. “So you cooked me dinner?”
“I did. Taco casserole. I got the recipe from your mom. She said it was one of your favorite meals.”
His eyes went wide, and I could have sworn he sniffed the air as he came fully into the kitchen. “You made my mom’s taco casserole?”
“I did. I hope it’s good.” I moved around the island to the casserole dish.
Needing something to do with my hands, I picked it up and carried it over to the table, placing it on the hot pad I’d put in the very center.
“I made a salad too. I have to say, I’m a little surprised you eat this, the recipe called for a lot of cheese.
I’ll be at least two pounds heavier by the time I go to bed tonight. ”
He followed me to the table, taking the chair across from me and lifting the beer I’d put on the table for him. “I only indulge once a year, whenever my family comes to visit. It’s worth the extra hour I have to put in at the gym the next day.”
I definitely wouldn’t be going to the gym. I just hoped I’d be able to start back up with Whiskey Dolls rehearsals soon so I could stay in shape, even if I wouldn’t be performing any time soon.
The conversation remained stilted and somewhat uncomfortable as we loaded our plates and began to eat.
He asked about lunch with Marin and Ms. W.
I asked about his day. I wanted to know if there was any news on the asshole who’d broken into my apartment and attacked me, but I didn’t want to risk ruining the evening, and I figured if there was anything to share, he would have by now, so I steered clear of that topic.
“So, what’s the verdict? Did I do your mom’s recipe justice?” I asked as Dalton polished off the last bite of his second helping.
“Yeah, it was really good. Appreciate you doin’ this.”
Come on, Charlie, I silently reprimanded. It’s now or never. Just get it out fast. Like ripping a Band-Aid off.
“I hate how things have been between us,” I spit out. “I know a dinner won’t fix it, but I had to start somewhere.”
“Charlotte—”
I held my hand up to stop him. “No, please, just let me get this out. I miss you like crazy, Dalton. I see you every day. I sleep next to you every night, and I still miss you so much, it’s hard to breathe sometimes.”
He said my name again, but I was too far gone to stop myself.
“You think I haven’t let you in, but the truth is, you’re deeper under my skin than I’ve ever allowed anyone before.
I know I’ve been holding myself back, and I want to do better.
I want to give you everything, but I need you to know I wasn’t keeping secrets from you because I didn’t trust you.
I do trust you. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life.
I love you, Dalton. I’m in love with you—”
“Charlotte, stop,” he ordered, his tone gentle but firm. My heart sank as he leaned forward, reaching across the table to place his hand on mine. “You don’t need to do this.”
The image of him sitting across from me began to blur as tears built in my eyes. “Because it’s too late?” I asked brokenly. “I messed this up too bad, didn’t I?”
He shocked me by smiling, a full smile that made my heart flutter wildly.
“No, baby. Because I feel the same way.” My lips parted on a gasp, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe, but he wasn’t done.
“These past couple of weeks have been a goddamn misery. I’ve missed you too, more than you can imagine.
I just needed some time to get my head straight.
I needed to cool off, but once I did, I decided I’d rather have what you’re willing to give me than not have you at all.
I love you, and I’ll take as much of you as you’re willing to let me have. ”
My chest shook on a stuttered inhale as he sat back, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans, and when he pulled out a long gold necklace and set it on the table in front of me, the tears that had built up began to spill over, leaking from my eyes like a burst pipe.
“Where . . .” I stopped, shaking my head in bewilderment. “Where did you get this?” I asked on a breath as I slowly reached forward, tracing the little heart with my index finger.
“I’ve got a gift when it comes to finding things, sweetheart. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to track your mother’s locket down for you.”