Chapter Eight #2
“Do you want to check out the children’s books? You said you're an uncle, didn’t you?”
“Yep, to two awesome nephews, but I don’t have the first clue about picking out a book for them.”
“I don’t either, but between the two of us, we can figure it out.”
“I’m up for the challenge if you are. Lead the way.”
Charlotte was more aware of things that she’d never given consideration before.
With Ben behind her, she was anxious about how she walked.
Her steps seemed heavy, her posture slouchy, and her strides too short, requiring him to adjust his own to keep from bumping into her.
Her oversized tunic over simple black leggings was meant for comfort and not style while he looked good enough to eat in his jeans and bomber jacker.
Her face was make-up free, her hair unwashed and straight.
He was clean shaven, his hair windblown enough to be sexy and not messy.
Her insecurity had her wondering why he wanted to spend time with her. He could choose someone prettier and more confident, but here he was standing next to her among the aisles of bookshelves.
She shoved her negative thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. “How old are your nephews?”
“Jax is five, and Dylan is a little over a year old. Jax is full of energy all the time and talks non-stop. Dylan is more relaxed, more serious, but way more curious than a kid his age needs to be.” Ben chuckled.
“They’re so different, but they’re best friends, if you can believe it.
I think Jax would clock anybody who tries to mess with his cousin. ”
Charlotte felt a pang of envy at how Ben spoke of his nephews with such affection. She barely remembered feeling that kind of love in her life.
“You seem close to your family.” She scanned the book covers as she spoke, selecting one or two which caught her eye.
“I’d trust them with my life. We may not be the most conventional family, but it works for us.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
Instead of answering, he showed her his phone.
The photo on the screen was of Ben with three other men around his age and size and an older man sporting white hair and a fit frame.
Even smiling, they were a formidable group.
Handsome, but intimidating. And that’s where the physical similarities between the men ended.
“My brothers and the man who essentially raised us. We took this on a bachelor trip before my brother Luke got married.” He pointed to the man with the icy blue eyes as he said Luke’s name.
“Since I don’t see any type of physical resemblance whatsoever, I’m guessing you’re adopted.”
“Not exactly. We were raised as brothers, but we never made it legal. Anyway, the guy in the middle. His name is English Barlowe, but we call him Gish. He took us in and raised us in his small studio apartment above the bar he owned.”
She raised a quizzical brow. “You lived above a bar? I see what you mean about unconventional.”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t imagine the State approving of someone keeping kids in a bar apartment now, but then, no one in our small town thought anything negative about it. Gish has this reputation for saving wayward boys in need of a home. Everyone calls us the boys even though we’re grown-ass adults.”
She chuckled. “Your Gish sounds like one of a kind.”
The conversation lulled as they studied the selection of children’s books.
They didn’t touch, but Charlotte's skin prickled from his proximity.
She breathed in his scent every time he leaned in to see what book she selected.
By the time they decided on a few, her stomach was twisted in knots, and her nerves sang with awareness.
He stacked their selections on his arm and tucked them to his side. “I have something for the kids. Now I need something for me. This way.”
His free hand lightly grasped her elbow, and Charlotte felt a tingle shoot up her arm, causing her heart to quicken.
His thumb lightly massaged a circle on her arm as he led her to the mystery section, and his touch was potent through the fabric of her shirt.
He told her the type of novel he was looking for, oblivious to how his touch was messing with her equilibrium.
She wasn't sure how she managed to suggest one or two without sounding like a fool, but he listened as if the recommendations came from a book critic instead of someone who barely had time to read.
Once he decided what to buy, he glanced at her expectantly. “See anything you want?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I told you I don’t read very much.”
“Okay then. I think I have all I want for now. Why don’t we sit and talk for a bit? I love the vibe in this place.”
Ben set his stack of books on a table in a quiet seating area by a window.
On either side of the table were high back chairs with dark blue upholstery and polished wood frames curving elegantly along the back, the arms, and the legs of the chairs.
The window was framed with billowy curtains and offered a view of the lot at the back of the store.
Charlotte expected to see nothing but an alley through the glass, but the space had been repurposed into a lovely garden with planters of various sizes having the type of greenery which survived cooler temperatures.
The space was cozy — and far too intimate for Charlotte’s comfort.
“I really should be going.” She started backing away, but Ben stopped her with a light touch to her arm.
“Can’t you stay for a few more minutes? Please? Do you want a water or one of the desserts Tabitha showed us?”
She opened her mouth to insist she needed to go.
But the earnestness on his face stopped her.
She found herself agreeing to stay, and he walked over to the counter to pay for his books and to purchase them a snack.
Tabitha was quick to appear from the back to help him, the musical sounds of a cartoon filtering from the back room.
Charlotte sat stoically as she watched Ben and Tabitha make small talk.
Why did this man leave her in such a confused mess? One minute, she wanted to keep her distance from him. The next, she felt drawn to him. The connection touched a part of her she kept closed off for reasons she could never share with him.
Allowing herself to become too attached to someone made her vulnerable. But the way Ben watched her, spoke to her, touched her…she felt safe. She felt exhilarated. She felt like she could forget the role she was supposed to play and step into one she always wanted to live.
Ben returned with a pleased expression as he placed their refreshments on the table between their chairs. He took the seat to her right, appearing more comfortable than she felt. He motioned for her to take a bite of her brownie while he sipped his water.
"You said you’re not a reader. What do you do for fun or to relax?”
An answer was on the tip of her tongue, but she wouldn’t voice it. It was part of the life she left behind, a life she couldn’t share with him without risking everything.
“I don’t have any hobbies. My life is kind of boring.”
She focused on her hands where they rested on her lap, hoping he wouldn’t sense her white lie.
“I don’t think you could be boring if you tried.”
A nervous laugh escaped her throat. “You barely know me. You’re hardly in a position to know if I’m boring or not.”
“I want to know you.”
His admission brought her head up. “Why?”
“Damn if I know.”
She smirked, her walls crumbling. She needed something about this man to be wrong, so she could find it easier to stay away from him.
“Tell me something first,” she said. “Your brothers are all married. Two of them have kids. So why have you stayed unattached?”
“I could say it’s because I haven’t met the right woman yet.”
Charlotte shook her head. “And you would be lying.”
Ben chuckled. “True. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to be married. I feel like there’s a lot about my life that would probably have to change if I met someone, and I like my life. What about you? Why haven’t you settled down?”
Charlotte sobered. “Because I can’t burden someone else with the baggage I carry.”
His expression revealed nothing, but she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. He hadn’t expected that kind of answer from her, and she was a little surprised by what she’d shared.
“You’re good at that.”
She blinked. “At what?”
He hesitated for a moment before he responded. “You have a knack for answering a question without really answering a question. Your answers never provide information. They just evoke more questions.”
“It’s how it has to be. I have to be careful about who I share things with, so I don’t trust people easily. That’s probably not what you wanted to hear, but it’s how things are for me.”
His expression hardened, and he regarded her thoughtfully. "I understand it better than you think. Remember what I told you about Gish? About his reputation for helping people?”
Charlotte tensed. She wasn’t sure where he was leading the conversation, but she didn’t like the change in his tone. “I remember.”
“He taught my brothers and me to do the same.”
She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she pursed her lips. “I never asked for your help.”
“Nope, you didn't. But I’m offering it. Not just while I’m in Ivy Springs. But anytime, anywhere. If you find yourself in trouble that you can’t climb out of, call me. I’ll be there for you, Charlotte.”
“Why?” The question seemed to leave her throat on a husky breath.
“Because if you’re not in trouble anymore, then you and I can get to know each other better. And I really want that to happen.”