Chapter 28
Liam
Peaceful Easy Feeling – The Eagles
My heart settled as soon as I pushed open the door of the cabin and paused on the threshold for a moment, letting the quiet settle around me.
The air inside was cool and still, but still held the faint scent of woodsmoke from the fire I’d burned a month ago.
It lingered like a memory of the night’s I’d spent there alone with nothing but my thoughts and fears for company.
Dust motes drifted lazily through the slant of midday light, shafting through the windows, and as I stepped inside, the pine floor creaked under my boots.
Everything was as I’d left it—the leather couch angled toward the fireplace, the armchair with its worn arms and faded throw pillow, the fishing rods in the wrack on the wall by the front door.
Even my old raincoat still hung off the back of one of the two chairs at the small wooden table that separated the living room from the kitchen area.
Leaving the bags by the door, I turned to Charity. “I’ll take the groceries.”
“It’s okay, I can manage.” She nodded toward the small kitchen, where the cabinets ran along one side of the back wall. “Shall I put them here?”
“Yes, that would be great. The refrigerator is under the counter.” I stood aside to let her put the bags down.
“This is beautiful,” she said, turning a full circle to look around the room. “It’s so cozy.”
It was cozy. Cozy and small, and I was relieved she seemed to like the place.
I hadn’t realized how much I wanted her to feel at home here, until my lungs finally let go of the breath I’d been holding.
It wasn’t fancy, if anything it was basic, but it was the quiet and tranquility that made it beautiful.
It filled me with pride to think Charity saw that in it too.
“The bedroom is through that doorway there.” I pointed to a door off to the right.
It was ajar, and you could get a glimpse of the neatly made bed with its patchwork quilt folded back over the deep green duvet.
“The bathroom is through there, too. It’s a small wet room really but big enough.
I’ll put your case in there.” Not sure why, but I suddenly felt awkward.
Like talking about the bedroom was too intimate.
Like I needed to explain the sleeping arrangements.
“I’ve brought a cot for me to sleep on.”
Charity licked her bottom lip, her tongue flicking slowly across it. “I can sleep on the cot.”
“Not a chance.” Shaking my head, I picked up the bags. “I’ll be good. Now, let’s get unpacked and then we can walk down the track to the food truck on the main road grab some food and then later I’ll take you on the lake. Sound good?”
Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “Perfect,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
As my boat bobbed on the water, the late afternoon sun shafting down basking us in warmth, I didn’t think that I’d ever felt more content.
Charity’s head was dropped back, my shearling wrapped around her because the jean jacket she was wearing didn’t hold off the chill of the water, even if the April sun was warm.
There was no hint of the snow we’d had a few days before, just the silver of the highest mountain peak.
I could watch her for hours, had done for the best part of the last one, just staring at her as we both enjoyed the peace and tranquility of the water.
The apples of her cheeks were pink and glowing.
Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail and blew in the breeze.
I didn’t think I’d seen anything or anyone more beautiful.
If this was all my life ever was from now on, her, this lake, this quiet, I didn’t think I’d complain.
Her tongue wet her lips as she sighed. Not heavy but full of the contentment that I felt, too.
“You want more coffee?” I asked, purely so she would look up at me and I could see the blue of her eyes.
When she lifted her head and opened them, the breath rushed from my lungs like I’d just come up from air from the bottom of the lake. It knocked me off kilter—I had to grab the sides of the boat to steady myself.
“That would be lovely.” Her full, pink lips turned up into a smile. “I think the shot of Baileys makes it extra special.” She laughed and it echoed across the water, bouncing off the mirrored surface like a skimming stone. The sweet tone rang like music.
“Not enough to get you drunk.” Opening the thermos, I poured some into the tin mug at her feet. “I can’t have you falling out of the boat.”
“You’d save me, though, wouldn’t you?”
I shrugged, passing her the coffee. “Depends on how cold the water is.”
“Really?” She slapped a hand against her chest, her long delicate fingers clutching at the corded fabric of my jacket. “I’m wounded that you wouldn’t just dive in without thinking.”
“Of course, I'd save you.” I knocked her foot with mine. “That's my favorite jacket.”
“Liam!” Laughing, her eyes went wide, and I got an even better view of the beautiful blue of her soul. Lifting her chin, she turned her head to look out over the lake. “I'm hurt.”
When her shoulders started to shake with more soft laughter, I grinned. “Ah, don't be sad, I'll save you and the jacket.”
Even though I was grinning, the thought of her being in danger filled me with dread.
I’d experienced terrible loss and knew how it felt for my heart to shatter.
I also knew that I should be wary of starting something with Charity, but the simple fact was, I was more scared not to.
I was petrified of not knowing the goodness of what we could have.
Of never experiencing living a life with her in it.
When she turned toward me, clearly amused, that peaceful, easy feeling I'd forgotten existed settled over me. It wasn't about the lake or the silence. It was her.
“How often do you come out here?” Charity asked, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. “I'd be here all the time if it was mine.”
“I try and get here as often as possible, but you know,” I shrugged, “work doesn't always allow for it.” Stretching out my legs as far as possible in the small boat, I inhaled slowly.
The fresh mountain air filled my lungs like medicine.
“Cole and Tally don't really come here, so I often have the place to myself. Sitting on this boat fishing the day away is a great way to decompress.”
Charity shifted, making the boat rock. “Ooh we nearly went then.”
I shook my head. “It would take a lot for us to overturn.” Reaching out a hand I linked her fingers with mine and watched as she smiled. “You know I’d save you even if this thing tipped us both in, right?”
She smiled shyly. “Yes, I think I do.”
A look passed between us. Words unsaid but felt deeply.
“What about you? What do you do to lose the stress of the day?”
She thought about it for a moment, gently tapping her mug against her chin and then said, “I don’t.” Her shoulders dropped and her eyes darted away from me, across the water toward the cabin. “I just work and make sure Mom and Dad are okay. Oh, and chase across the country looking for my sister.”
My heart sank that she didn’t have something for herself.
No one could ever accuse her of not being committed to her career, but surely she needed something else to help her relax.
As she stretched her long, slim neck, I had an urge to run my tongue down it, knowing exactly how relaxed I could make her.
Struggling with movement behind my zipper, I tried to lean forward but that just caused more uncomfortable pressure.
“Maybe you should take up knitting with Hilary Bondell.” The thought of our librarian knitting eased my erection a little. But now I’d thought about helping Charity to melt into my mattress, I couldn’t shake it off.
Watching her was becoming my favorite pastime and as weird as it was, it was hard not to. Then I noticed her shiver, despite my thick jacket.
“We should get back,” I told her, looking up at the sky. “There are some clouds rolling in.” When I reached for the oars, disappointment settled in my gut. What if going back to the cabin broke the magic of our moment out on the still water?
“Oh, I hope it rains.” Charity trailed her fingers in the water as I started to row us back to shore.
“Really?”
“God, yes. Imagine being all cozy inside the cabin with the rain hammering down on the roof, and the fire roaring.” Her body gave a little shudder. “It sounds like bliss.”
Her little smile, the quiet gasp that escaped her mouth…suddenly I hoped for rain too.