19. Charlie Cumming
NINETEEN
CHARLIE CUMMING
Eve
I stare out the rectangular airplane window. We’re still sitting on the tarmac of the tiny airport in Harbor Highlands while we wait for the rest of the passengers. Although it’s labeled as international, the airport still only has four gates and a security line that takes ten minutes at most. It’s been two weeks since my chat with Jake about moving back. We celebrated Beersgiving, which may be my new favorite holiday. There was so much food, laughter, and games, thanks to Nora. Jake’s lips might have twitched slightly with amusement. As much as I wanted to wrap my arms around Lach and spend the entire night with him, I couldn’t because my brother was there. Watching. He eventually rearranged everyone’s schedule so Lach and I could get a few days off together to collect my belongings. I roll my head to the side an inch, my travel pillow preventing me from turning all the way. “Hopefully, this flight goes better than the last.”
“I’m sitting next to you this time, and I have no plans on going anywhere.”
“Like to the hospital.”
“Yeah. But you have to admit, it worked out for us.”
“It did.” I reach over the armrest and wrap my hand around his, expecting him to move his hand to intertwine our fingers, but instead, he moves away. My heart plummets to the tarmac. I slide my hand to my lap. “Alright then,” I murmur, mostly to myself. Twisting away from Lach, I cross my arms and stare out the window, watching them load the luggage onto the plane.
His shoulder lightly nudges mine. “I’m sorry. I’m not big on public displays of affection.”
I peer at him from the corner of my eye. “But you made out with me at the resort bar with tons of people around. It doesn’t get more public than that.”
“That was a kiss.”
“That’s different from holding someone’s hand, how?”
“You can kiss anyone. You can walk up to a stranger and kiss them, and it can mean nothing.” He diverts his gaze away from me. “Holding hands with someone is more intimate, and it’s not something I do.”
“You can’t walk up to anyone and kiss them. You need to watch for clues. When I kissed you, I didn’t just kiss you. I warmed you up to the idea first and when you didn’t say no, I went for it.”
“You were caressing my thighs. I wasn’t going to say no.” He shrugs.
“Oh my god. That’s why guys are so surface level.” I laugh.
“What do you want? Long nights spent sharing our feelings and brushing each other’s hair?”
I playfully backhand his bicep, and he laughs. “The first part is fine, but you can brush your own hair. Since I know you can’t be serious for five minutes, let’s circle back to the hand holding. Have you never held someone’s hand?”
He’s silent for several long seconds. When I think he’s not going to give me an answer, he responds. “No.”
“Never?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Pinky holding doesn’t count?”
“Pinkies don’t count.”
Another laugh escapes me. “It’s different, but I respect it. One more question. Why do you consider holding hands more intimate than a kiss?”
He presses his lips together, contemplating his answer. “Because a kiss is just a stepping stone that leads to other things, like sex, which has the purpose of having an orgasm. But when you hold hands with someone, there’s no ulterior motive other than to show your affection toward that person.”
“So a kiss can’t be affectionate?”
“No, it’s just a different kind of affection.”
“That’s pretty deep, Dr. Phil.” I bump Lach with my shoulder. Instead of pulling away, I stay where I am. I’m desperate to touch him, even if it’s only my shoulder.
“But mostly, what if someone recognizes us and tells Jake?”
I glance around the cabin before my eyes fall on Lach. “We’re on an airplane. I highly doubt anyone will recognize us.”
“But they could. And I’m already toeing the line of being the asshole to my best friend.”
I let out a huff. “I get it. I hate keeping this from Jake too. But also, I don’t want to not do this because I really enjoy this.”
His soft blue eyes meet mine. “Me too.”
When he looks at me, I see the pain in his eyes, the yearning to hold me close and kiss me. It makes it hard to be mad at him. “Plus, I don’t want to drop so many truth bombs on Jake. I can only handle so much of his disappointment in me.”
“Hey, Lach. How’s it going?”
Both of us peer up, and a guy with dark hair is staring down at us. His gaze darts from me to Lach. Slowly, I inch away from Lach, straightening my shoulders.
“Hey, Ben. Not too bad. How about yourself?” Lach responds.
“Good. I’m headed to Chicago for work. Seeing you reminds me I need to swing by the bar sometime and say hi to Jake. I heard his sister’s in town, and she has a photography business. The wife keeps hounding me to get family portraits taken.”
Shit. If I don’t say anything now, he’ll find out later. Leaning over Lach, I stretch out my hand. “I’m Eve. The sister. I’m taking a hiatus from the photography business for now.”
His large palm grips mine. “Sorry to hear that, but it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ben. I’ve known your brother for a long time.”
I drop my hand to my lap. “He seems to be a very popular guy in Harbor Highlands.”
“Are you two off to Chicago?” Ben asks.
“No, we’re going to Knoxville to move all my stuff back to Harbor Highlands. Jake sent Lach to help me since he didn’t want to leave the bar,” I say with a chuckle.
Ben laughs. “That sounds like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t even leave if it was on fire.”
“That’s what I’m learning,” I add.
“Alright, I better go take my seat. It was good to see you, Lach. Eve, nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I say. I peer over my shoulder as Ben continues to stroll down the aisle to his seat. When I spin around, Lach’s gaze bores into mine with a raised brow.
I roll my eyes. “Okay. Fine. I don’t like it, but I’ll go with it.” I lean against the backrest and cross my arms over my chest.
Halfway into the flight, I feel something brush against my hand resting in my lap. Glancing down, Lach’s arm lays across the armrest. His pinky extends and hooks with mine. An eruption of butterflies takes flight through my body. I peer at him. His eyelashes fan over his cheeks, but the corner of his mouth curves into a smile.
After our connecting flight from Chicago, our plane lands in Knoxville—well technically, Alcoa—and we order an Uber to the nearest U-Haul location, which is three miles away. From there we drive to my rented townhome in West Knoxville, and Lach parks the U-Haul out front.
Lach jumps out of the truck and shuts the door. He meets me at the curb. “This looks nice.” He stands in front of the long, tan rectangular building. A few shrubs and rock landscaping decorate the exterior. Each unit is side by side, but all have their own entrance.
“It served its purpose. Now, it’s time to move on to the next chapter. Shall we get started?”
Lach follows close behind while I unlock the door and push it open. I glance around. I’ve only been away for a month, but it feels like a lifetime. So much has changed since then.
“This shouldn’t be so bad.” Lach rubs his chin, assessing all my belongings.
Unlike Jake’s bland interior, my townhouse is filled with various art and photographs covering the walls. Furniture is minimal but heavy enough that I need a second person.
“No. But I didn’t want to move all this myself. I’m happy it’s you and not Jake helping me.”
“Me too, Sunflower.”
His arm wraps around my shoulder, and he tugs me to his chest. I sink into him, loving his warm body against mine. He presses a chaste kiss to my forehead. The sweet gesture makes me want to say “fuck it” to all the packing and we get our cardio in a different way. But he pulls away.
“I’ll grab the stuff from the truck.” Lach exits the front door and, a few minutes later, returns with a stack of boxes we picked up on our way over, along with our carry-on bags.
Luckily, most of my stuff can fit in the boxes, minus a few of the larger furniture items. We devise a plan to box up one room at a time and move it out. We save my bed for last so we have somewhere to sleep tonight.
After we box, tape shut, and label one room, we carry it to the moving truck, playing Tetris with all the items. A professional packer, I am not. I’m more of a “here’s an open box, let me throw whatever is in arm’s reach into it” person. Case in point, the box at my feet holds everything on and inside my nightstand, including a stack of books and self-care items, along with the laundry basket of clean clothes next to it.
The packing tape screeches as I run it over the closed flaps. With the box in hand, I push through the door with my back. The unseasonably hot sun beats down on me as it tries to burn me alive. Mix that with the beads of sweat already sliding down my temple from packing, and I’m a hot mess. Both physically and mentally. I juggle the box with one hand while attempting to rub my face against my shoulder.
“Eve!”
My entire body tenses from the familiar voice. I forget how to breathe. The box tumbles from my grip and crashes to the sidewalk, splitting the side. Two books, along with a variety of lingerie, scatter across the sidewalk. My bright pink vibrator rolls across the concrete and comes to a halt against a pair of brown loafers. I’m frozen in place, an icy dread gripping my heart. Not only is the last guy I wanted to see here, but anyone walking by gets a front-row view of my vibrator.
“You’re back. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” Pax says, his tone sharp.
Crouching down, I grab everything off the sidewalk and shove it back into the box while trying to make sure nothing else escapes.
“Pax, what are you doing here?” Stretching across the sidewalk, I reach for my vibrator, but Pax bends down and scoops it up before I can. My head drops. Son of a bitch.
“I’ve been driving past your house like every day. I sent you numerous messages.” His arms flail through the air like an inflatable tube man.
I climb to my feet. “Yeah. I’ve been ignoring those.” The outline of his body comes into focus. I shield my eyes from the sun and frown when I spot his fingers wrapped around my vibrator. My head throbs. I’m going to need to burn it now.
“There’s a big wedding coming up. So I?—”
“Pax, I quit,” I say firmly.
His dark brows furrow. “What do you mean, you quit?”
“A month ago, when I left the hotel room in Florida, I said I quit.” My gaze drops from his face to my vibrator, and I hold out my hand.
“Oh!” He drops it in my palm. “I thought you were just going on a vacation or something.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. I tap the head of the vibrator against my bicep. “No. If you’d pull your head from your own ass for five seconds, you’d know that. I. Quit.” I make sure to enunciate the last two words so he hears them correctly this time.
“Who are you?” Lach throws an arm around my shoulder and tugs me to his chest. I didn’t hear him come outside over the beating of my heart in my ears.
“I’m her boss.” Pax squares his shoulders as if he has any claim to me.
“Former boss,” I add.
Pax’s gaze drops to Lach’s arm around my shoulder. “Who are you?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” Lach says with no hesitation.
My heart soars from his words. We’ve never talked about what we are, but when questioned, he has no qualms about claiming me as his, and I will happily take it. Pax’s jaw clenches. The satisfaction of his annoyance makes me snuggle deeper against Lach.
“After all this, you have a boyfriend,” Pax spits.
“I don’t owe you any explanation.” I spin out of Lach’s grasp. “Hold Charlie Cumming.” I smack the vibrator against his chest with a thud. He catches it before it hits the cement. I stomp toward Pax. “And you have zero grounds to confront me about a boyfriend because you. Are. Married.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you would do this. We had something special. I was ready to start a new life with you. But you had a boyfriend the whole time. Does he know about us?”
My nostrils flare. A box of rocks has more intelligence than he does. “He is well aware of this fucked-up situation. But is your wife? Maybe I should call her.” I reach for my phone in my back pocket. “Tit for tat.”
He frowns.
I slide my phone back into my pocket. He’s not worth the even larger headache. I just want to finish packing and get out of town. I point down the sidewalk. “You need to leave. I’m done with you. Done with the job. I’m moving on. In fact, I’m leaving Knoxville. Now, I need to pack so I can get the hell away from you!” Pivoting on my heel, I stomp past Lach, who’s still holding my vibrator, and back into the townhouse.
“Eve! Wait!” Pax’s desperate voice echoes behind me.
“I think it’s best you leave,” Lach says.
When I’m inside, I brush the curtain back and peek out the window. Lach’s still talking to Pax. Based on the glower on Pax’s face, Lach is reiterating what I told him. I don’t know whether I want to kiss the hell out of him or giggle because he’s wielding Charlie Cumming. Since he’s slaying my dragon, I’ll make sure to return the favor. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. Stay on task. Sex later. Packing now.
Finally, Pax retreats down the sidewalk. Lach crosses his arms, watching him until he’s out of sight. He tucks the vibrator in his back pocket before picking up the box I left behind and sliding it into the back of the moving truck. I meet him in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as he strolls up the sidewalk. The gray t-shirt molds perfectly to his sculpted chest. I nibble on my bottom lip. The sleeves of his shirt stretch taut, straining against the bulging muscles of his biceps. Unsure of what I ever did to deserve this man, I know I’m never letting him go. I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my lips. He comes to a stop in front of me.
“What’s that smile for?”
“Thank you.” I clasp his cheeks and lean in, pressing my lips to his. I pull away but don’t remove my hands. “For everything. I was afraid if I stayed out there a second longer, I’d end up strangling him. And I wouldn’t survive prison.” Dropping my hands, I huff out a laugh.
“It was nothing. That guy’s an asshole.”
“I don’t have many regrets in life, but he’s in the top three.”
He shoves his hands in his front pockets. “I hope I didn’t cross the line by saying I was your boyfriend. It seemed like the easiest way to get rid of him.”
A pang of disappointment hits me in the gut. He said it so Pax would leave. “No.” I wave him off. “It’s fine. Do you know you still have Charlie Cumming in your back pocket?”
“You mean your vibrator? Yep.” The corner of his mouth curves into a smile.
“Are you going to give it back?”
“Eventually. But also, Charlie Cumming, as in…”
“Charlie has me coming all night long.” I shrug as if it’s the only logical answer.
He laughs but doesn’t say anything as he sidesteps me and walks down the short hallway toward my bedroom.
A part of me wants to pester him about why he wants to keep Charlie, but also, I’m curious about what he has up his sleeve or, in this case, his back pocket.
Shortly after midnight, we flop onto the mattress on the floor. We cleared my entire townhouse except for the mattress, a couple of pillows, and a blanket. My eyelids drop as if sandbags are glued to my lashes. Both of us are still in our clothes from the day, and I don’t think either of us cares. Lach drapes an arm around my waist and tugs me to his chest. I snuggle against him, loving the proximity.
“Night, Sunflower,” he murmurs. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. Seconds later, his breathing evens out to soft snores. After a few minutes, his breathing lulls me to sleep.