Chapter 8
Charlotte
Last night was intense. Let me repeat… intense. After that kiss Asher laid on me, I couldn’t sleep. Instead I pictured a life with him. I imagined this engagement was real. I let myself live a life that I loved.
Us. Together. Working a farm, hand-in-hand. He’d be all broody, while tactical. Always tactical. A chill races up my spine at the memory of the way he commanded me to sit up. His voice was deep, the timbre making my body vibrate in a way it hasn’t in years, if ever.
I close my eyes, remembering the way it felt when his lips brushed against mine. How every cell in my body buzzed with excitement and shock. And Asher… ahhh. He was so nervous after the kiss, his mouth spewing military jargon. It was… cute. It was sexy. I wanted so much more.
This morning when I woke up, I could actually see him with the rays of the sun pouring into the windows like liquid gold cascading over a masterpiece, gilding every curve of his sleeping face.
The thing that caught my attention first was the black ink covering strong muscles.
Wow. He’s a work of art like a sculpture chiseled by thunder and designed by God himself.
I wanted to trace my fingers over the lines of his tattoos, but he woke up before I could.
So, I did what anybody would do in that position, I hightailed it to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Now, I’m standing in the lobby of the resort, waiting on my bestie to show up. I don’t know how I’ll be able to explain the engagement to her. She’s not going to buy it that I’ve been secretly dating someone, but oh well… she’s going to have to.
The moment Melanie steps into the estate, the energy in the room shifts. She’s radiant as always, with her honey-blonde hair swept back in a chic ponytail and a designer bag dangling from her wrist like it weighs nothing. Her eyes scan the room, lighting up as soon as they land on me.
“Charlotte!” she squeals, rushing forward to pull me into a tight hug. “I’ve been texting you nonstop! Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”
Oh no. Here we go.
I manage a laugh as I hug her back. “It’s... been a whirlwind,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.
Melanie pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “A whirlwind? Charlotte, you’re marrying a man I haven’t even met! What gives?”
Before I can formulate a response, her eyes flick past me, and her expression shifts into one of open admiration. “And who,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “is that?”
I turn to follow her gaze, and of course, it’s Asher. He’s standing near the fireplace, deep in conversation with my father, his broad shoulders filling out his suit jacket like it was tailored specifically for him. Which, knowing my mother, it probably was.
“That,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “is Asher. My fiancé.”
Melanie’s jaw drops. “That’s Asher? The man you’re engaged to? Charlotte, why have you been keeping this gorgeous man a secret?”
“It’s complicated,” I mumble, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
“Complicated how?” she asks, her eyes narrowing. “You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone, let alone engaged.”
I shrug, forcing a smile. “It just... happened so fast.”
“Fast?” Melanie’s gaze sharpens, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head. “Charlotte Lane, there is no way you just stumbled into an engagement with a man like that without a story.”
She’s relentless, but I’ve had enough practice deflecting in the past twenty-four hours to hold my ground. “Melanie, it’s been a crazy few months. Let’s just say, when you know, you know.”
Her eyes narrow further, but before she can press me, a member of the staff walks in to announce that dinner will be served in an hour. I grab Melanie’s arm and start steering her toward my room. “Come on. Let’s catch up while we get ready.”
Once we’re upstairs, Melanie flops onto the edge of the bed, her sharp gaze still locked on me. “You’re not off the hook, you know.”
I laugh, pulling a dress from the closet and holding it up. “I didn’t think I was.”
She watches me for a moment, her expression softening. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you a pass on the details—for now. But seriously, Charlotte, you’re engaged. You’re allowed to act happy about it.”
I glance at her, a pang of guilt tightening in my chest. Melanie’s my best friend, and keeping this from her feels wrong, even if it’s necessary. “I am happy,” I say, forcing another smile.
“Let’s start simple… what does he do?”
I smile. “Security. He also served time in the military, so he’s very good at what he does.” My mind returns to the kiss we shared last night, and it makes me wonder what else he’d be good at.
“He looks like he’s packing more muscles than any normal man has, that’s for sure.” She gives me a big smile.
“It’s overwhelming. The whole thing…” my words stop cold.
“Overwhelming,” she repeats, her tone skeptical. Then, as if a lightbulb goes off, she perks up. “Is it Wade? Is he making this harder for you?”
Her question catches me off guard, and I hesitate for a fraction of a second too long. “What makes you say that?”
“Because Wade’s always been... intense,” she says, choosing her words carefully. “He’s never been great at taking no for an answer, has he?”
I shake my head, turning back to the closet to hide my expression. “No, he hasn’t.”
She sighs, leaning back on her hands. “Well, forget about him. You’ve got Asher now. Honestly, Charlotte, if I were you, I’d be swooning every time he looked at me.”
I roll my eyes, but my cheeks warm at her words.
The truth is, I am swooning, more than I’d like to admit.
Asher has this presence that’s impossible to ignore.
The way he looks at me, like he’s trying to figure out all my secrets.
The way he stood by my side in front of Wade, so solid and steady, like nothing could shake him.
And then there’s what he said earlier: We have to prove you’d rather marry me than Wade.
The thing is, I already would. Asher is a stranger, but he’s nothing like Wade. He’s protective, thoughtful in his own gruff way, and so infuriatingly handsome it’s distracting. I can feel my heart racing just thinking about it.
“Earth to Charlotte,” Melanie says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that dress for five minutes. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I say quickly, pulling the dress off the hanger. “Let’s get ready. Dinner’s going to be... interesting.”
“Interesting how?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
I hesitate, then shrug. “Let’s just say, Asher and Wade in the same room is not a great mix.”
Melanie grins. “Oh, this I have to see.”
We spend the next thirty minutes getting ready, and as I slip into my dress and glance at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder how tonight will go.
Asher’s words replay in my mind, and I realize with a jolt that I’m not just worried about convincing the others—I’m worried about convincing myself that this is all pretend.
When we’re both ready, Melanie links her arm through mine and gives me a sly grin. “Let’s go, bride-to-be. Time to knock their socks off.”
I step out of my suite with Melanie, half-focused on the to-do list in my head, when Wade materializes like an unwelcome magic trick. He blocks the carpet runner with that lacquered smile I used to find charming when I was thirteen and easily impressed.
“Evening, Charlotte.” His gaze flicks to the closed door behind me. “Leaving the fiancé unattended already? Tsk.”
The implication curls my stomach. “He’s already downstairs,” I say, voice flat.
Wade’s grin tightens, but I pivot before he can launch into whatever power play he’s rehearsed. Melanie hustles to keep my pace as we head toward the far elevator.
Behind us Wade calls, “Give him my regards!”
I toss a careless wave without turning. If I look back, I might throw a shoe.
Once we’re safely around the corner, Melanie whistles low. “Girl, that tension could cut glass. FYI, I’ve never rooted for Wade in the Rom-Com of Your Life.”
I blow out a breath, slowing my pace a little. “Thanks. Nana Peg might hand him a crown, but I’d rather gargle thumbtacks.”
We reach the long gallery leading to the grand staircase, its chandeliers dimmed for the night. Our heels echo in the hush. I catch Melanie’s arm, needing lighter conversation. “Your turn. Anyone special orbiting Planet Mel?”
She rolls her eyes skyward, feigning deep thought. “No meteors. Just…this one guy I talk to online. Funny memes, decent grammar. Haven’t met in person yet.”
I stop at the balustrade, heart stuttering. “You’re kidding. Stranger-danger 101, Mel. Screens hide everything—age, motives, murdery tendencies.”
She laughs, her glossy head tipping back. “Relax, Mom 2.0. I’m not handing over my Social Security number. We’re chatting, that’s all.”
“But it starts with chatting.” My voice slips into the tone Asher uses when mapping threats, and I dial it back. “Promise me you’ll vet him. Background search, video call, meeting in public daylight with GPS enabled.”
Melanie pats my cheek, amused. “Look at you… you’re engaged and now you’re an expert.”
I snort, linking my arm through hers as we start down the staircase. “Hardly. Seriously, be careful.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’ve got this, Char. But if he’s a creeper, you and your six-foot wall of muscle can come scare him straight.”
I smile, but the worry lingers like a faint bruise, like the kind you don’t notice until someone presses.