28. Henry
Waking up from a deep slumber, Henry’s arm curved around the softest flesh imaginable.
Charlotte, he groaned, his face nuzzling her neck while his hand drifted across her belly.
The belly she’d been self-conscious about last night and the belly he delightfully explored after they made their way from the coffee shed to his house in the deep of the night.
He’d stroked, licked, and worshipped every inch of her until they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, finally exhausting themselves.
Charlotte was the first woman he’d brought to his bedroom, undressed in front of the full-length mirror in the corner, made love to as night turned into morning, the first rays of the sun filtering in, drenching her bare shoulders in dewy light.
Sensual in every way imaginable, they connected on a deeper level than the mere physical, and she stoked in him fires he had no desire to extinguish.
Rolling over in her sleep, her chest strained against the Rolling Stones t-shirt she’d put on at some point in the early morning, the famous lip and tongue logo disappearing between her lush mounds.
“Good morning,” she whispered, a second before lifting her drowsy eyelids.
“Are you always this sexy in the morning or am I special?” Charlotte’s shiny purple nails scraped his cheeks, his stubble making her giggle.
“You’re definitely special,” he assured her, voice thick with desire, hands sliding under his shirt to cup her breasts.
Squeezing them, he growled as her hand ducked under the waistband of his shorts.
His head fell back, arms slumped next to his prone body as her mouth trailed a path over his stomach, and his thighs clenched with need.
“Charlotte,” he pleaded, choked with lust.
Nymph-like, she rose to her knees, straddling his hips.
Henry gripped the hem of the t-shirt, wrenching it off before tossing it across the room.
He’d keep her naked in his bed all day if she agreed, he thought, as she descended excruciatingly slowly.
When she leaned forward, his palms cupped her bottom, because she was going to kill him if she maintained this languorous speed.
“God, Charlotte!” he yelled, just as she slumped onto him.
“Mmm, Henry, I wish we could do this all day,” she said huskily, curling into his side, fingertips drawing mysterious patterns on his chest.
Chuckling, his hand caressed her petal-smooth shoulder. “I’ve never done that,” he admitted.
“What? Spent the day in bed with someone? Me neither.”
“No?” Even now, he loathed the idea of the two of them ever leaving his bed.
“Brady and I never made time for each other like that. First, we were so young, married with a baby, trying to figure out how to be parents. Then, once Isobel started school, I began my college courses, and being a mom and student left no time for us. And then I started teaching.” She shrugged. “You know how life goes.”
He did, all too well. “Did you always want to be an English teacher?” Henry shifted slightly to see her face better.
Charlotte gave a short laugh. “No, actually. In my senior year, I didn’t know what I was going to major in, but I had big dreams.”
Able to imagine her accomplishing anything, he inquired, “Like what?”
“Oh, I wrote some short stories that got some some attention my junior year at a workshop for young writers sponsored by the University of Iowa.”
“Oh, Effie’s been looking into the writing program there, I think for after she and Josh are settled from the wedding.”
“My stories have nothing on that novel she wrote. She calls it young adult lit, but it transcends that.” Loosely based on Effie’s own life, the novel was about a teenage Lakota girl discovering herself through her love of running.
“I agree, it’s brilliant.” Henry brushed a dark curl from Charlotte’s forehead. “Tell me your other options.”
“Well, Iowa State University offered me a scholarship for their theatre department.”
Henry’s stomach clenched. “For acting?” Please say no, he silently begged.
“Yeah. I loved it. Imagined myself the next Patti LuPone on Broadway.”
“You never mentioned acting the day in Mr. Beans when we were talking about you directing.”
“No, I guess I didn’t. I was so flustered by seeing you,” she confessed, scraping her nails on his chest. Henry gently extricated himself from her, rolled over, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Henry? Is something wrong?”
Henry was unable to breathe for a moment because Charlotte’s “dream” disturbingly mirrored his ex-wife’s.
“No,” he finally answered, grabbing his shorts from the floor before sliding them on.
“I just remembered that there’s some paperwork I need to do today at the shop. It needs to be ready by tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Charlotte clutched the sheet to her chest as she searched under the covers for her clothes. Picking up the crumpled t-shirt she’d worn, he handed it across the bed to her.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, slinking out into the bathroom.
“Idiot,” he admonished himself in the mirror.
Why the hell had he reacted like that, just because Charlotte had mentioned wanting to be an actress?
It’s not like she and Melanie were at all alike, other than this.
He splashed icy water in his face, then softly padded back into the bedroom.
“Hey, I think I’m going to go,” Charlotte announced, fully dressed, to his dismay. “If you’re going to the shop, I have some stuff to do at home, anyway.”
He’d royally messed things up, and he cursed himself. “Charlotte, no, I’m sorry. Stay, and we can have breakfast.”
“Amy is coming up for the rodeo today, anyway, and will be here around noon.”
“Charlotte, I’m sorry…this is all new for me. I’m trying…” He took a deep breath, “I’m trying to figure it all out.”
“I know.” She grabbed his hand. “It’s new for me, too. I’m not upset, I promise.” Her hand on his cheek, she assured him, “Hey, it’s okay.”
Her brown eyes shone sincerely, and he kissed her gently on her forehead.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll take you home,” he said, pulling on his jeans from the night before.
From the bed, he once again plucked the t-shirt Charlotte had worn and yanked it over his head, relishing her scent permeating the cotton.
As they walked in silence, Henry debated whether to explain why he had freaked out—would she want to hear how damaged he was from his marriage?
She’d been open with him about hers, but he worried it wasn’t the same.
Glancing down at Charlotte, he decided to take a chance.
“I’d like to explain what happened earlier at my house. ”
“It’s okay, Henry. I promise I’m not upset. And this isn’t me being passive-aggressive.” Her smile was radiant with forgiveness.
“Believe me, I’ve experienced that before, which is why I’d like to explain.” Picking up her hand, he gently kissed her knuckles. “Please?”
“Okay,” she agreed, tucking his arm behind her, an action that brought their bodies together, and she lifted onto her toes, her mouth meeting his for a tender kiss.
“My ex…Melanie…I told you how we met when we were both working at the Grand Canyon, and it was a time when I was pretty vulnerable. My two best friends from high school were supposed to come with me to work there, too. I had planned the whole thing for us, but they cancelled on me the day before we were going to leave.”
“That’s terrible!”
“Yeah. We never stayed friends after, because of it, but also…other things. Anyway, as luck would have it, I met Juan on my first day, and we became friends immediately. Working there was great. I had fun, hiking with Juan on our days off, hanging out with his girlfriend, going camping with other kids we became friends with. It was the summer of my life. And then I met Melanie. Her car had broken down somewhere…she was never quite exact about the location. I didn’t have any experience with girls, but I’m sure you’ve heard about my past with DD, which is humiliating to think about now, let alone talk about it.
” Charlotte grabbed his hand, stopping them in their tracks.
“Please don’t be embarrassed to tell me anything, Henry, especially about your emotions.” He squeezed her hand gratefully.
“At the end of the summer, we found out she was pregnant. We moved back to Clover Lake, got married. Turned out she actually wasn’t pregnant.
I don’t know if it was a faulty test or maybe she was, but then had a miscarriage.
Josh didn’t come along until a couple of years later.
My sister always thought she lied about being pregnant to trap me.
” Henry shook his head. “I never thought that. The last thing Melanie wanted was to be married. You see, when her car broke down, she was on her way to California to be an actress…it was all she ever talked about. Everything was ‘When I get to Hollywood’. Even after we got married, that’s all I heard. ”
“So when I said I wanted to be an actress when I was a teenager…”
“Yep, full-on psycho reaction by me.” He gave a quiet laugh, doing his best to make light of his situation. “I wish I could say I was one hundred percent surprised when she finally left, but I wasn’t. Her plan had never been to stay in South Dakota. “
“Any idea where she went?”
“None. She wasn’t the type to leave a forwarding address.” Was now the time to admit about the calls and texts from Melanie?
He considered doing just that when Charlotte shocked him. “So what did you give up?”
“Excuse me?”
“She gave up Hollywood. What did you give up? I’m sure you had dreams, too.”
Awkward silence ensued. He hated talking about what might have been. “College,” he finally admitted. “I gave up college.”
“So back on our first date, when I asked if you enjoyed working at the auto shop…no wonder.” He stopped them this time, flashing her a quizzical look. “You never really answered, just said it was the only thing you knew.” Stunned she remembered, he nodded. “Tell me what was going to be your major.”