22
Charlotte
Charlie falls asleep shortly after I lie down with him and while my body screams at me to get back to Caleb and finish what we started, I know it isn’t possible. Not now. Not here. Not with everything so damn complicated.
Yes, I’m having Caleb’s baby. But we never discussed being a couple. He lives in Manhattan and has shown no interest in moving to a small town, and I can’t blame him since his entire career and life is in New York City.
I could never leave my parents, my friends, or move Charlie away from his school. I’ve planted too many roots here.
Yes, I’m having his baby, and yes, I would love to sleep with him one more time, but this could never work.
I wake up the next morning, still in Charlie’s bed. I get up as slowly as possible so as not to wake him and tiptoe out of his room.
When I turn the corner, I spot Caleb in the kitchen making coffee. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants. The pants do nothing to hide his bulge, and I remind myself to keep my gaze up and away.
“Morning,” he calls, pouring a second cup of coffee. “Two milks, one sugar, right?”
I smile. “That’s right.”
“I don’t remember you being such a morning person,” I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table while he brings us our coffees.
“That’s because you kept me up all night in St. Kitts.”
“ I kept you up!” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was the other way around.”
“Oh, no, that fine ass of yours is to blame.”
Sage walks in wearing her pink woolly robe and matching fluffy slippers. “Ugh, I thought sleeping together last night would get this out of your system,” she says.
“We didn’t sleep together last night,” I inform her.
“Ugh,” she groans again, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I’m taking this back into my room. I can’t handle this sexual tension first thing in the morning.”
I shake my head. “Sage!” That woman has no filter. She would say the most outrageous things in college and get us into heaps of trouble, but it’s one of the things I love most about her.
Caleb sips his coffee and watches me over the rim of his cup. His eyes send a heat flash through me stronger than this steaming cup of coffee and I place a hand on my chest, trying to cool myself down.
“She’s right, you know.”
“I know.”
“There’s always been this intense energy between us.”
There was—or still is. But we’re not in St. Kitts anymore. We’re in a house with my roommate and eleven-year-old son.
There. That’s better. Imagining getting caught by Charlie cools me off like a bucket of cold water over my head.
“The bank opens soon. We should get ready if you want to get there before it closes.”
“What time does it close?”
“Eleven.”
“A.M.?”
I chuckle. “You’re lucky it’s even open on a Saturday. Those are its extra hours.”
Caleb runs a hand through his hair, and the movement raises the hem of his shirt over his tanned stomach. I wonder if he went away again or if he maintains this tan with those fancy spray booths.
“You can use the bathroom first. You’ll probably take less time than me.”
He winks. “No promises. But since I left my skincare routine at home, you might be right. ”
“You’re joking,” I say.
“Am I?”
He walks away with a grin, and I inhale slowly, analyzing why the smallest teasing can make me laugh with him.
“By the way, I fixed your front door while you slept in.”
“You did?”
“Yep. Told you I was a morning person.”
I smile and look over at the door. “Thank you,” I call over my shoulder.
I dress quickly into a pair of tights and an oversized hoodie that must have been one of Austin’s that Jane let me borrow during my pregnancy with Charlie because I pulled it out of my maternity drawer. There aren’t any stains on it, so I’m pleased I kept it.
I walk over to the bathroom, but Caleb is still in it. He has his shirt off, but his gray pants are still on. His dark hair’s wet and I wonder if he’s trying to get a rise out of me on purpose. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”
“Nah, nah. Come in. There’s plenty of room around the sink.”
He steps aside, and I squeeze some toothpaste onto my toothbrush. While I brush my teeth, I watch him in the mirror fixing his hair. His biceps flex as he runs his fingers through the dark strands, and he tilts his face left and then right, showing off his chiseled jaw .
“Are you doing that on purpose?” I ask.
“Doing what?”
“Looking all sexy in the mirror. Are you practicing a thirst trap to film later?”
“Are you calling me sexy?”
I roll my eyes. “You know that you are.”
He puts his hands on my waist and presses himself against my backside. “I think you’re sexy, too.”
I know this can’t be true, especially in the physical state I’m in now, but his voice is so hoarse and low that it sends a shiver down my spine.
The doorbell rings and Charlie runs down the hallway. “I’ll get it.”
Unfazed by the outburst outside the door, Caleb drops his lips next to my ear and nuzzles his nose to my neck. Goosebumps scatter along my skin and I shiver.
“Caleb,” I whisper.
“ Yes?”
“Mom! Your friend Jason is here!”
Jason!
Caleb stiffens beside me. “Is that your ex?”
“Yes.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was back in town. ”
I maneuver out of Caleb’s arms and jog up to the front door. Jason stands in my foyer, wearing ripped jeans and a thin leather jacket.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Jason opens his mouth but shuts it when his gaze moves behind me. I know it’s Caleb, simply by the furrow in Jason’s brow. “Who are you ?” he asks.
“Caleb Consuelos.”
Caleb crosses his arms over his bare chest. He hasn’t changed yet and Jason’s left eye twitches as he takes in Caleb’s lack of clothing.
Jason puts both hands on his hips. “What the hell is he doing here?”
I walk past Charlie and push Jason outside onto the front porch. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that in my home. You’re the one who showed up uninvited.”
Jason’s not backing down. “Who is that guy, Char? Why does he look familiar? Did you know him from college?”
“None of this is your business, Jason. None of it.” I cross my arms beneath my chest and the action stretches my T-shirt over my belly. Jason’s eyes drop to my bump.
“So, the rumors are true. You are pregnant,” he spits out.
His tone grates on my nerves, and I feel inexplicably embarrassed by his judgement. I don’t respond to his statement, and he looks over my shoulder at the door behind me. “It’s his, isn’t it?”
I shake my head and bite my lip. His words hurt. It feels as though he’s accusing me of something, but I’ve done nothing wrong.
“What do you want?”
“I want to see Charlie.”
“I’m taking him to my parent’s house.”
“Why, so you can spend time with your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Let me take care of Charlie while you’re gone, then.”
“No.”
“Why not? It’s been weeks now and you haven’t let me spend any time alone with him.”
I squeeze my arms together, digging my fingers into my flesh. I can’t use the excuse that he’s a stranger because he isn’t. “You can drive him to my parent’s house and stay with him there if you like.”
He stares at me and tries to soften his face when he pulls his hand over his nose and mouth. “I’m sorry, alright. I got freaked out when I saw the guy behind you, like… like he owns you or something.”
“He doesn’t own me, Jason. No one does.”
“You know what I mean. Like he has some right to you, and I didn’t like it. ”
“I’m not your concern anymore.”
“I care about you, Charlotte.” He reaches for my arm, but I step back. “Make sure he’s home by three. See you later, Jason.”
Charlie’s waiting for me in the kitchen. Sage has poured him some cereal and Caleb’s still standing in the foyer with his arms crossed. “Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Just dandy.” Then, I turn to Charlie. “Jason’s going to take you to Grandpa's place. Once you finish your breakfast, you can go.”
Charlie inhales three bites of cereal before putting on his shoes at the front door. I walk up to him and give him a hug. “Bye, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Aunt Sage. Bye, Caleb.”
I kiss his forehead and let him go, watching him run up to Jason’s red sports car. His smile grows twice its size when he opens the door and whistles at the interior. His happiness eases some of my anger toward Jason, but I wait until he pulls out into the street before shutting the door.
I turn to Caleb, acting nonchalant. “Ready?”
He stares for a few seconds, then nods. “I just need a minute to get dressed,” he says and walks back to my bedroom.
I sigh and sit at the kitchen table next to Sage, who’s eating a banana. “Wow, the drama in this place is better than Reality TV. I’m placing bets on who you end up with.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “This isn’t funny, Sage. This is my life.”
“I know, honey. Enjoy it while it lasts. You’ve got two men wanting you. These are the kind of problems most women fantasize about.”
“I don’t have two men wanting me. In fact, I don’t have any man right now.”
She shakes her head while mashing a large bite into her mouth. “Girl, do those hormones affect your eyes? The way those boys were acting, how could you not see that this was a pissing contest just now?”
True to his word, Caleb walks back into the kitchen just a few minutes later, wearing tailored gray pants and a thin black sweater. Both items look like they cost more than this kitchen table. He looks at me. “I’m ready.”
Sage smiles while taking another bite. “A freaking fantasy, babe.”
*
“How far is the bank from your place?” asks Caleb when we’re in the car.
“Just in town, not far.” I run my fingers along the shiny black interior. While Jason’s car is smaller and sportier, Caleb’s car is larger and more luxurious .
As we drive into town, we pass by Sunset Ridge. “This is the neighborhood I was telling you about.”
Caleb lifts his foot off the gas, looking from one side of the road to the other at the century-style homes.
“Oh,” I say, pointing to a large white and yellow house up ahead. “This one’s my favorite, Cedar Manor.”
“That’s quite a big lot and house, too. Who lives in it?”
“No one. One of the town’s founding fathers built it. Years ago, a foreign investor bought it, but never moved in. He rents it from time to time in the summer because it has a beautiful stream in the back that runs directly into Cedar Brook Falls. But people rarely visit the town and stay for longer than a couple of days.”
Caleb stops the car in front of the home, and I take a closer look. It saddens me to see the once magnificent house reduced to peeling paint and an overgrown garden.
“It’s got charm,” says Caleb.
“Exactly.”
“It just needs some love.”
Ha. Don’t we all?
“Why doesn’t someone buy it and fix it up?”
“It’s valued at three million dollars, plus the money to renovate. No one in this town can afford that.”
He pulls back onto the road, and we head into town .
“That’s the bank over there.” I point to a red-bricked one-story building with a wooden porch in front. Caleb parks the car a few feet away.
“I love how there’s always parking in small towns. It’s one of its best qualities.”
“Ha, that’s true. I swear my brain doesn’t know the difference between being held at gunpoint and trying to parallel park downtown.”
We both laugh as we walk up the wooden steps and Caleb holds the door open for me. As soon as we walk through the door, all heads turn in our direction. Sally, a teller, stops counting money to Mr. Robinson and just stares at us, while Mrs. Green’s painted red mouth pinches together along with her eyebrows.
Caleb clears his throat. “Now I remember what I don’t like about small towns.”
He’s right, of course, and I’ve said as much myself. But it feels different when an outsider says it. I feel like I need to defend the town. Yes, we’re not used to someone like Caleb with all his European finery walking through the door, but we mean no disrespect. It’s mostly curiosity.
We wait behind Mrs. Green while Sally finishes counting Mr. Robinson his money. “It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?” she asks.
“It sure is,” I say, but her gaze is on Caleb. When he doesn’t respond, I nudge him with my foot. He looks at me and I raise my eyebrows. Fortunately, he gets the message. “Oh, yes. It’s a fine day. Just as lovely as the people around me.”
Mrs. Green smiles and fusses with her French twist. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”
“Next,” Sally calls and Mrs. Green saunters to the counter.
“Nicely played,” I say.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Robinson, however, isn’t as impressed as he openly scowls at us. I pay him no attention, as he’s generally an unpleasant man, especially since his wife ran off with his hired hand.
After a quick transaction at the counter, Mrs. Green waves as she walks past us.
“Morning,” says Sally when we approach. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to open an account with Ms. Tanner.”
“All right,” she says, looking at me for confirmation. “What sort of account?”
“Just a regular checking account. I’d like to make a note that there will be regular transfers from a Manhattan bank to this one. Don’t place a hold those transfers. They should be put through right away.”
“Do you have the account number for that?”
“I do.” Caleb pulls out his phone and opens a banking app. I turn my head to give him some privacy .
“Will you be requiring two signatures for withdrawals?”
“Yes,” I say at the same time, Caleb says, “No.”
“I won’t be here much, and you’ll need to withdraw the money in order to use it.” He turns back to Sally. “Only one signature is required.”
This feels weird. I’ve never had anyone give me anything financially. It makes me feel dependent, but at the same time, I could use the help. I’m already strapped as it is now.
“Okay, I’ll just need two pieces of ID and both your signatures on the pad in front of you.”
After we hand her our IDs, Caleb passes the pad to me first and my hand trembles a bit as I sign it. I turn it toward him when I finish, and he signs his name with no hesitation.
“Great,” says Sally as she types on her computer. “We’re all set. Here’s the account information and a bank card. Just follow the instructions on the PIN pad to reset your passcode.”
“Thank you,” says Caleb, and Sally smiles brightly at him.
“You’re welcome.”
We walk out of the bank and I’m still trying to reconcile my feelings about this joint account .
“What’s wrong?” asks Caleb. He stops and gently strokes my hand with his thumb. “I can tell something’s bothering you.”
“It just feels a bit icky, I guess.”
“What does?”
“You paying me.”
He smiles. “I’m not paying you. I’m taking care of my responsibilities. I won’t be around much, but at least this way I can help the best way I know how.”
“With your checkbook?”
“Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. But it’s the best way I know.”
It makes sense, of course, but I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he’s basically writing us off with his money and this will probably be the last time I see him in a very long time. But it’s better than I imagined when I first realized I was pregnant with Caleb’s baby. At least now he knows, and he’s helping us out.
It’s enough.
It has to be.