Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
C HARLIE
The frigid November air bites at my exposed skin while I stand on Trina’s front porch, taking a few deep breaths before I go in. I need to shake the negative vibes from Thanksgiving lunch at my parents’ house before I see Trina and Emily.
No one from my mom’s side of the family came to my parents’ today—they rarely have. Her parents have been gone for a few years and her only sibling, my aunt Sylvia, lives in Arizona and doesn’t get along with my dad. Go figure.
So, it was me, my parents, my dad’s parents, my two uncles and their wives, and my cousin Carl and his fiancée. And it was miserable. The only reason I even went was because it was important to my mom.
Just as I’m about to reach for the door handle to go in, the door swings open and I’m greeted by a smiling Emily. Damn, she looks pretty today with her long honey blond locks pulled up into a high ponytail, minimal makeup, and wearing an Elladine Fire Department sweatshirt. I like the look of that on her more than I should.
“What are you doing standing out here? It’s twenty-nine degrees. You’re gonna freeze.” Emily’s smile is radiant as she steps back so I can walk in.
As soon as I step over the threshold, mouth-watering aromas of roasted turkey and spices tease my sense of smell. The welcoming heat of the house warms my cool skin, and the familiar crackling sound of burning wood draws my attention to Trina’s family room on my left, where she has a toasty fire roaring in the fireplace.
“It smells divine in here, Emily. Damn.” I remove my boots and winter jacket and slide on the slippers I keep here.
“Thanks. You’re a little earlier than we expected, so you’re in time for dinner. I hope you saved some room.”
As if on cue, my stomach lets out a growl and Emily chuckles.
“I guess I did.”
I force a laugh, but I don’t tell her I hardly ate anything at my parents’ because my appetite was almost non-existent there. It started with irritation and an exchange of angry words with my dad for how he was treating my mom—dismissive, subservient. But as my uncles and my grandparents arrived, I realized every Fitzgerald man present has, over time, diminished the woman they supposedly love. And the women weren’t always this way. It’s nauseating.
My mom and my aunts are intelligent, talented women, and they were once vibrant beings. But, over the years, they’ve all become smaller for the sake of keeping the peace in their marriages.
When my cousin, Carl, and his fiancée, a successful medical researcher, arrived and we were chatting, it was obvious it’s happening to her as well.
I literally had to excuse myself and go to the restroom because I thought I was going to vomit and I needed a moment to tamp down the anger I felt at witnessing the misogyny.
Carl proved it’s not just a generational thing. It’s a familial—hell, maybe even a genetic—thing. Fitzgerald men destroy the women who love them. And I’m a Fitzgerald man…
“Hello? Earth to Charlie.” Emily waves her hand in front of my face and draws me out of my stupor. Her mouth turns down at the corners and she tilts her head, concern filling her gorgeous blue eyes. “Where’s your head at today? You’re not being yourself.”
I clear my throat.
“Sorry. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” I smile to reassure her everything is okay. “Now, lead me to the food. I’m dying for an Emily Flynn Thanksgiving meal.”
She narrows her eyes at me for several drawn out seconds, then says, “C’mon, then. Let’s fill that belly.” When she says “belly,” she pokes me in my abdomen and her eyes widen when her finger meets my muscles and there’s no give. I’m secretly pleased. Recovering quickly, she spins around and heads out of the room.
When I get to the dining room, Trina is just finishing setting the table and looks up.
“Hey, you made it early. How was your lunch at your parents’?” She raises her brow and gives me a knowing look.
“Eh. I survived. But a good best friend would have gone with me.” It’s clear from my tone that I’m teasing her.
“Hell no. And risk running into that jerk cousin of yours you fixed me up with. No thanks.”
I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Well, he was there. So, maybe it’s better you weren’t. And, in my defense, I didn’t realize he was such a jerk when I set you up.”
“How come you never set me up with anyone? I’m single now,” Emily says as she takes her seat at the table.
I glance up at her, a little dumbfounded and unable to speak. The thought of setting her up with someone doesn’t sit well with me. I remain speechless while I try to figure out what this is I’m feeling. Hell, who am I kidding? I know exactly what it is, it’s jealousy thinking about her being with someone else when she’s off limits to me.
Thankfully, Trina chimes in. “Um, maybe because neither of us would let any of the single guys he knows within ten feet of you.”
Emily huffs and drops it as she reaches for the turkey, taking some before passing the platter along.
Forty-five minutes later, our bellies are full and I’m more grateful than ever I wore my favorite gray sweatpants, so my waistband has some give.
I stretch back in my chair. “Damn, Emily. You’re a talented cook. Seriously.”
A pretty pink tinge appears on her cheeks, and she smiles, lifting her eyes up to meet mine, her ocean blue irises gleaming with pride.
“Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”
“It was great,” Trina adds. “Do you two mind if we do the dishes now so I can leave to get to the station? I promised one of the guys I’d cover for him for a few hours so he can go have pie with his family.”
“You go, Trina. Emily cooked. I’ll handle the dishes.” I rise and start clearing the plates.
“I’ll help you, Charlie. It’s not a big deal.” Emily stands and picks up a couple bowls of food from the table.
Eventually, Trina leaves and Emily and I work together in the kitchen to get everything cleaned up. She tells me all about her new job as we work. When we’re just about done, she clears her throat.
“Hey, Charlie?” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper.
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“Is there… Is there any chance you want to stay and watch a holiday movie with me?”
I’m not dense. This is likely her first Thanksgiving evening she’ll be alone since she and Teddy broke up a few months ago and she’s been with him in past years.
When I glance over at her, she’s intently looking down at the pan she’s drying.
“I’d love to.” I peek down at my T-shirt, which is wet from doing the dishes. “But can we throw this in the dryer for a half hour, so I’m not soaked the whole evening?”
“That’s what she said,” Emily says. She giggles, then rolls her eyes when she notices my astonished stare and gaping mouth. “What? I’m twenty-two, Charlie. I can make pervy jokes. I’m not as innocent as you and Trina would like to believe. Now take off your shirt so I can put it in the dryer, you prude.” She winks saucily at me.
I smirk at her and chuckle, happy to see her laughing and joking after all she went through a few months ago. I reach for the collar of my shirt and pull it over my head, then hand it to her.
Emily’s eyes grow as large as saucers and they’re laser-focused on my bare chest and abs. She rakes her heated gaze up and down my upper body and I’m suddenly grateful for all that wood I have to chop and stack all year—it keeps me in shape. Something in me wants to growl at her approving perusal, but I know I need to shut that shit down.
I decide humor is best and I place a finger under her chin and lift her head until her eyes meet mine. “My eyes are up here, sunshine,” I tease.
She hesitates, then recovers. “Whatever… I thought I saw a worrisome mole, so I was trying to get a closer look. It’s just lint.” She swats at my side as if she wiping something off me. “Can you go put on the Hallmark channel and I’ll go toss this in the dryer?” She grabs the T-shirt from me and heads out of the room, not waiting for an answer.
* * *
EMILY
Holy hell. Charlie Fitzgerald without a shirt on is a site to behold. Sculpted abs and shoulders I want to sink my teeth into. Christ. One look at his bare chest and I’m an instant horn dog. Geez, I’ve only been single for a few months.
I toss Charlie’s shirt into the dryer, turn it on and pull out my phone to text Shayna.
Me: I just saw Charlie Fitzgerald without his shirt on and I’m pretty sure I’m ruined for all other men.
A few seconds later, my phone dings.
Shay: Ooooh. Yummy?
Me: Um, yeah. It’s been four years since I saw him shirtless at my eighteenth birthday pool party and, let me tell you, he’s all hard edges and sexy man now. Not that he was too shabby then.
Shay: Too bad Trina’s there. You could go for it.
Me: Trina’s not here. She went to the station for a bit to cover for one of the guys.
Shay: Whaaaat? It’s a sign then. You’ve been secretly crushing on him forever and don’t say you haven’t.
Me: Whatever! He’s Charlie. Crush or not, he’s out of my league. Plus, he’s Trina’s best friend.
Shay: Um, excuse the fuck out of me? No one is out of your league. You’re fucking amazing and any guy would be lucky to have you.
Me: LOL. You’re a good best friend, in case I don’t tell you enough.
Shay: Meh. I can never hear it too much. Now go have fun. Live a little. You’re single. Send me updates later.
Me: Nothing is gonna happen. We’re just gonna watch a movie. There won’t be anything to tell.
Shay: We’ll see…
I climb the basement stairs and head into the family room. I stop dead in my tracks at the scene unfolding before me. A holiday romance queued up on the television and Charlie, his back to me, kneeling in front of the fireplace in just his gray sweatpants and slippers, adding some logs to the fire. I have to fan myself when I see how his back muscles and triceps flex as he reaches over to grab a new log.
I snuggle into a spot on the reclining portion of the couch just as Charlie turns around.
“Hey, you stole my spot.” He flashes a heart-stuttering grin at me, and I nearly melt.
“It’s a double seater spot. Can we share it? Please?” I give him my best pouty face and he rolls his eyes.
He grabs the remote and walks over to the couch.
“Fine. But move over a little. I take up more room than that.”
I grin and scoot over to make room for him and he slips into the end spot. Then I sidle up next to him and we share the footrest.
“How’d you know this is the one I wanted to watch?” I ask him, curious.
“I didn’t. Just made an educated guess. I figured it was a holiday love story about a bakery owner needing a Christmas miracle, so you’d like it.” I glance up at him and he’s blushing, rubbing his hand over his trim beard and avoiding eye contact.
“Well, perfect choice. Thanks. You can hit play whenever you’re ready.”
Sometime within the first half hour of the movie, the steady rhythm of Charlie’s breathing alerts me that the film failed to hold his attention, and he’s drifted off to sleep. I look at him, really study at him. He’s a gorgeous specimen of a man, but he’s also just such a good guy. Solid. Quiet, but in a thoughtful, unassuming way. When I think of the number of times that Charlie has been there for Trina and me, I’m overwhelmed. How he’s still single, I don’t know.
I scoot closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and turn back to continue watching the movie. When it’s over forty-five minutes later, I forget that he’s sleeping and applaud.
“Five stars, Hallmark. Five stars.”
“Sunshine? Are you clapping for a movie in the comfort of your own home?”
I startle and peek up at Charlie. I got so comfy I lost myself for a while. His eyes are still closed, but he’s wearing an amused smirk.
“Yes, I am, Charlie. Are you making fun of me?”
He opens his eyes and my lower belly quivers when his sleepy hazel gaze meets mine.
“Never. I think it’s cute.” He’s full on smiling at me now. It’s one of the panty melting smiles he probably isn’t aware he has in his arsenal.
I throw my head back against the couch and stare up at the ceiling.
“Ugh. Women don’t want to be cute, Charlie. We want to be stunning and beautiful and sexy and?—”
The rest of my words disappear as I look over at him and see the way he’s watching me—his gaze fixed on my mouth—the desire in his eyes unmistakable.
He watches me for what feels like forever, yet it also feels like it’s not long enough. Then he gently places his index and middle fingers under my chin and caresses my lower lip with the pad of this thumb, all while peering into my eyes.
“You can be cute and be all those things, too.” His voice is rough, and desire consumes me.
I don’t know who moves first but, suddenly, our lips are touching… barely, but they’re touching. My heart pounds in my chest.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he warns. Yet he doesn’t pull back.
Trying to control my breathing, which is erratic with him this close to me, I respond, “I think it’s a great idea.”
Then, acting braver than I feel, I slowly glide my tongue over his lower lip.
“Emily,” he groans.
I do it again and he loses control, just like I wanted him to.
His mouth claims mine, his tongue exploring me, tasting me. One strong hand cups my cheek while the other palms my waist, searing me with a delicious longing, tempting me to beg him to move it, to touch me in other places. We kiss like this for several blissful minutes.
He inches his hand up, under my sweatshirt, and as his thumb brushes the underside of my bra, I moan. “Charlie…”
He pulls back, like me saying his name delivered an electric shock, jolting him from the passionate moment we were sharing. Leaning forward, he kicks down the foot of the recliner and drops his shoulders, holding his head in his hands.
“Fuuuuuck. I’m so sorry, Emily. That was a huge mistake.”
I rear back, embarrassed, his words like a slap across the face.
“A mistake…” I whisper.
He sits upright and looks at me. “You’re not a mistake. But this was. This can’t happen. Trina will lose it and… and?—”
“Trina will be fine. And I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.” I sit up straight, moving to the edge of the couch.
“No. You don’t understand. I’m not what you need. I’m not good for you.”
“Jesus.” I jump up, now irritated. “You don’t get to tell me what to need or want. You don’t decide those things for me. No one does.” I’m fighting mad, ready to go a few rounds with him over this ridiculousness. “I want this. I want you.”
Charlie stands now, too. His eyes are practically pleading with me. “Emily, you’re my best friend’s younger sister. And… and you just got out of a long relationship. You can’t possibly be ready for something else, and, even if you are, I’m not relationship material. And I’m sure not gonna use you for something that’s just physical.”
I glare at him, wondering how this afternoon went from so wonderful to total shit. And I’m tired. So, so tired. Tired of wondering how my relationship with Teddy got to the point it blew up like it did. Tired of trying to ignore a secret crush on my sister’s best friend. Tired of trying to figure out if I even know who I am anymore. It’s exhausting.
And now, on top of that, I’m humiliated.
“I’m going to lie down. Your shirt is in the dryer. You can let yourself out if you leave before Trina gets back.”
As I walk away, I force myself to keep an even pace when I want to run to my room before the tears come. Because I know they’re coming. When I get there, I shut and lock the door behind me, then let the floodgates open.
Ten minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on my bedroom door, followed by Charlie’s voice. “Em, can we please talk?”
I don’t answer.
“Please, sunshine…”
I still don’t answer.
A few minutes later, the rumble of his truck starting outside hums in the air. And I tuck myself further into my blankets and close my eyes. Determined to forget everyone and everything.