CHAPTER 3 Charlotte #3
We’re watching the guys sing their hearts out and not one of them can carry a tune in a suitcase, but they all look happy—free from life’s worries for a short while.
I can tell though, that this is definitely not the first time they have performed this song.
And that thought brings up a fit up giggles.
The lights on the stage are changing color to the beat, and they have the biggest smiles on their faces.
But even from back here and through the lights, I can feel Maverick’s eyes on me. Quinn sees me watching him, watching me.
“I don’t know his story, but he seems like a bad mistake you only make once.” I’m not sure what she means by that, and I just nod.
I look back to the stage and say, “I think it’s an act.”
“Oh, no. Charlie, did you just fall in the ‘L’ word with that beautiful piece of man-meat?”
“Love?!”
“No, baby girl, lust. Lust is fine. But the other ‘L’ word,” she shudders.
“He just doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”
“Okay, fair,” she says. “Like I said, I don’t know his story, but he’s been giving you eyes all night.
And bad guys can still be good men.” She raises both her eyebrows and gives them a wiggle.
We laugh and try to flag down a bartender to get some cocktails and shots for the guys.
I hear their song end and the crowd gives them lots of applause.
I feel a presence behind me. I think it’s Maverick, but when I turn around, a man I’ve never seen before is standing close to Quinn and me.
Tall and portly, he’s in a plaid shirt and jeans with a trucker hat on.
He’s close—too close—the stench of alcohol coming off his breath is so strong that I have to back up a step.
“Hellooo, ladies. How are we doing tonight?” he slurs out to us.
“Um, no thanks,” Quinn says as she tries to scoot us around him.
“I’m just trying to say ‘hello’ to two pretty little ladies. You think you’re too good to talk to me?”
We start to walk away but he grabs us both by the upper arms.
“Get your hands off of us, right now,” I say. Hoping he doesn’t catch the tremble in my voice.
His grip on my arm is tight, maybe enough to leave a bruise and I wince when he squeezes.
“How about a ménage dance party?” he says, trying to maneuver us towards the dance floor.
The lights are bright behind the man, so I can’t really make out his features. His grip tightens and I am immediately in fight or flight mode. I haven’t felt manhandled like this since a few nights before I left home.
Quinn and I are squished so tight together and I can feel her shaking next to me. Behind the man I see figures walking towards us.
“Hey!” someone calls from behind him, and the guy turns just a bit, opening himself to me.
That’s when I jab my knee as hard as I can in his balls and use all of my weight and energy to push him in his chest. He goes down like a pile of bricks, groaning and curled in the fetal position.
Quinn gives him a hard kick to the shins and grunts, “Asshole!”
There’s a commotion when Caleb and Garret go get security. Maverick comes over to us, creating a barrier between the man on the ground and us. “Hey, champ. You guys okay?”
I immediately feel better—safer with Maverick between us.
My fight or flight has always been more fight, but the adrenaline drop happens quick and I start to think about the what ifs.
“Yes, my girl got him good,” Quinn says.
The guys are back with security. Onlookers are trying to see what the hubbub is about, but the guys shield us from view. Maverick moves to bring his hand on my arm but puts it back down. “Hey,” he says to me, a bit softer than before, “are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I think.” That's my bravado talking because I’m taken back to the moment when I was leaving my office, headed for my car, and those two goons stopped me. I would have been whisked away to wherever, but I fought my way free and ran.
I’ve been running ever since.
"Who was that guy?"
“I’ve never seen him before, but I’m sure we can find out. Garrett’s dad is the sheriff,” Luke says.
Obviously I don't know Garrett, but can't picture him growing up with a Sheriff as a dad. He seems like the perpetual prankster, maybe that's why. I'm sure it's stifling having a parent in law enforcement.
Quinn seems completely unphased by what just happened.
However, I look down and can see the fringes of my top and bottoms jitter, and I realize I’m trembling. Maverick is staring at me, jaw tight, then notices me watching him. He blinks and relaxes a bit before he comes closer to me.
“Hey," he says quietly. "Hey.”
I’m quivering, about to have a panic attack. He says in a calm tone, like he’s talking to an injured animal, “I’m going to touch you, okay?”
I nod and he wraps his arms around me in a hug.
Soft and warm. Hard and secure.
“Breathe in for four and hold it for four,” he pauses, “now breathe out for four and hold it.” I do as he says. “That’s it, again.”
We stand there just breathing. To anyone else, we might look like lovers embracing, but he’s just saved me from a public panic attack, in the middle of a crowded bar…on a Friday night…at the town fair. I don’t want to be that girl people whisper about when I go into town for groceries.
Tears fall after a minute or two.
I left this life behind, but it didn’t leave me.
“There," he says. "Feel better?”
I wipe my tears with the backs of my hands and say to my new friends and Quinn, “I think I’m calling it a night.”
“Nope. No, ma’am. That asshat doesn’t get to ruin your night out,” Quinn replies.
“It’s okay. I—,” I clear my throat, “Nothing would make me happier than you staying out and shaking that booty being well protected by our new friends and me going home and getting some rest.”
Quinn knows about my panic attacks. I had one in front of her a few months ago when I thought I saw one of Father’s business associates in the market while we were buying ice cream and popcorn for our movie night.
As though she’s remembering that, Quinn says, “Okay, babe. If that’s what you want, we can leave right now.”
“No!” I yell. “No, I mean I go home, you stay out with the guys. We can get together tomorrow for brunch.”
“I’ll walk you home, champ,” Maverick says.
“No, look, I don’t want to make this about me. Please, stay here, I can get home.”
He’s got fire in his eyes, as if to say, Are you kidding? No.
Quinn looks between the two of us and breaks into a grin just like the Grinch. Then she catches me watching her and schools her features. Like an angel, she sweetly says to Maverick, “That’s so gentlemanly of you, Maverick. Thank you for taking care of my girl.”
I’m not going to win this one and sigh, “Let me cash out at the bar.”
Caleb says quickly, “I’ve got your drinks. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Thank you. Sorry to ruin your party,” I say to Caleb.
I give them all a quick goodbye, and Maverick and I leave through the saloon-style doors.
We don’t talk for a few blocks but it doesn't feel awkward—it's kind of peaceful.
Breathing deep, I look up to the almost full moon watching over us. The midway lights twinkling and the scent of wood burning in the bonfire pits set up along the street feels kind of magical.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get that dance,” I say to Maverick.
“Me too," he smiles. "But I get to walk a beautiful woman back home in the moonlight. No complaints on my end.”
He reaches out, and I let him take my hand in his. His palm is calloused and rough in places, but softly he brings it to his mouth and places a gentle kiss atop my knuckles. “I'm sorry you had to deal with all that.”
We smile at each other and head back towards my house.
There’s still some food and vendor stalls open and a guy playing guitar with a speaker, playing a soft melody that I instantly recognize. It's one of my favorite songs.
Maverick must see something on my face, because he pulls me to the small clearing on the street that serves as a makeshift dance floor.
He gives me a twirl out then back in, and my hand lands on his shoulder.
Then pulls me in with his hand on my waist and we sway gently back and forth without saying a word.
The end of the song is coming. He spins me out and back to him close, then dips me backward.
He's got moves.
“What street do you live on?” he asks.
“Hill, at the corner of Birch.”
“I got that dance after all,” he says, then brings me upright.
The small crowd claps for the performer and we continue to walk. We talk the entire time about everything and nothing at all. Still strangers, yet, I've shared dreams and things I've never been able to share with anyone else in my life.
We watch the fireworks from a picnic table in the park. The short walk to my house took hours.