15. Charlie
15
Pepper : Okay, not Landon. What about Devin?
There was nothing wrong with Landon.
Pepper : So Landon is a go, then? ( hopeful emoji)
Stop saying it like it’s some mission. No. There is no go. Abort. Retreat.
Pepper: We can’t retreat. There is an active threat. We need to act now.
What threat?
Pepper: Almost 25 and a virgin.
Please delete these texts.
Pepper: See, it IS embarrassing. Fine. I’ll let it go if you tell me who you’re holding out for.
Jason Momoa.
Pepper: Um…have you seen Landon? He could be his brother!
Crap. Now I need to Google this guy…
I’m mid-search on a guy I suppose could pass for a distant relative of my Aquaman, but still not enough to sway me. I could see myself talking to this guy. Of course, I’ll say something stupid and that’ll be the end of that, but get under him? No thank you.
His build, his face, his…hands…just don’t look right for me.
A gentle throat clearing in front of me catches me off guard, and I yelp, dropping my phone.
Noah stands on the other side of the counter. His expression blank as he meets my eyes. “You alright?” he asks, cooly, glancing at my phone, which is thankfully dimmed to black now.
“No—yep, I’m good. Just…talking to Pepper. Ready?”
“Are you?” he asks, which makes sense since he’s picking me up at work.
It’s Friday and my fourth full day at the library after the weekend catastrophe with my feet. But I’m walking much better now and only feel the slightest pain when standing too long. Today is also the first day I’m back in my purple boots. I dolled up a bit with a soft white blouse and my velvet purple mini-skirt.
I guess it’s true what they say, when you look good, you feel good. And after my heart crumbled to pieces with the likelihood of my project never coming to fruition, I could use some feel-good time.
Noah has been here at six on the dot every day, and I’ve given up fighting him to chauffeur me around.
“Yes.” I stand.
Noah points behind me. “Are we taking those?”
I glance behind me, remembering the clear container with my name on it. This morning, after the interns stocked the shelves with brand-new books, Em sent me another case of used children's books ready for recycling.
Maybe if there was a bigger section, you wouldn’t need to toss these…
I’m usually super excited for a box this size to add to my town distribution collection. But when she dropped them off, all I heard were her unspoken condescending words. “Here, for your… other weird little project that seems to keep you going.”
Em never minded my taking the old books. She just wondered what my obsession was with kids reading that I’d be willing to volunteer personal time for it.
Well, I question her being dead inside, but you don’t hear me complaining.
I shake my head. “No. I’ll just keep them there and tell people that they’re free when they come in. They can dig around themselves.”
Noah frowns at my response, and I know the look well. There's a question behind it. One I'm not about to answer. Noah's never made fun of my hobby—not to my face, at least—but if given the opportunity, I'm sure he'd voice exactly how dumb and time-wasteful he thinks it is.
So, I don't give him the chance.
“Come on. We’re closing soon.” I lift my tote bag in a scurry at the wrong end, and the contents fall to the floor, scattering around my desk.
Shit.
Noah comes around to help. “Do I make you nervous or something?”
“Shut up and pass me my vitamins.” The little green bottle went rolling down the wooden floor along with something else.
I toss everything back into my canvas bag and search the surrounding area for anything I missed.
“What’s this?” Noah asks, making me turn.
My eyes close in on the neon purple tube between his fingers, that’s about the size of his index finger.
My heart pounds in my chest and it would be just like Noah to actually hear it.
“What’s what?” I swallow hard and take the moment I bought myself to suck in a sharp breath.
He takes a step toward me as if I need to see it better. “This.”
My first instinct is to reach for it and tuck it away. But I know that’ll only grow suspicion, so I shrug it off. “That’s my lipstick.”
He stares at me. “Lipstick?”
I swipe my vitamins from his other hand. “Yep,” I pop the p and hold out my hand. “Can I have that back, please?”
He smirks and sweeps his gaze over me. “Which lips?”
I take a step back, my ass hitting the edge of the desk. “Wha—the ones on my mouth.”
He closes the little distance there’s left between us. “Put some on.”
I draw back but can’t go any further. Noah lifts me over my desk. “Better?”
I lick my lips. “The day is over. I don’t need lipstick right now.” I reach for it, but he pulls back and flicks the switch, making a humming noise.
“Are all your lipsticks… battery-powered?”
“Ooooh.” I chuckle. “That’s not lipstick.”
“Hmm...”
“It’s… a massager.”
He pulls his gaze from mine and runs his fingers along the smooth rounded toy that’s been inside me. And it…turns me on.
I realize, sadly, it’s likely the most action I’ll ever get.
“A massager.” He brings his hands to my hips, leaving my vibrator tucked against my bikini line. “This wouldn’t happen to be what you were looking for before going in the shower, would it?”
How does he fucking know these things? Do they teach him this in law school?
I suck in a silent breath. “Nope. Any further questions, counsel?”
He smirks. “Just one. Tell me, do you have a…bigger version of your lipstick slash massager?”
“No.”
The corner of his lip turns up devilishly. “Good to know.” He backs up. “You may step down.” We walk to his car and he holds the door open for me, then tucks something into my hand. I don’t need to look down to feel what it is. “In case you need it later.”
I avoid eye contact and toss my non-lipstick into my bag.
“Hungry?” Noah asks as he pulls up to Villa Fresco. It’s a two-story Victorian corner building along the shopping strip in Hideaway Springs. It’s not exactly city quality, but it’s as fancy as this town gets.
My eyes widen. “Here?”
“Why not?”
I scoff. “Noah, I realize this might be what your Friday night looks like, but I’d rather just order in a pizza.”
He rolls his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, then mine. “I’m sure they have pizza on the menu.”
If I were ever to eat at Villa Fresco’s—which I’m not—I would not be ordering pizza. Pepper says they have the best pasta dishes she’s tasted in years. And their cheesy bread with artichoke appetizer is to die for.
But this is the last place I’d want to set foot in again. My body runs cold just remembering the last time I was here.
“Noah, I’m not eating here.” I can’t hide the shakiness in my voice and turn away before my eyes give me away even more.
The valet approaches, but Noah waves him away.
He touches my hand, sending an unexpected jolt of electricity through my body. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But he caught me off guard.
“Hey.” His voice is soft. Not urgent or arrogant.
I don’t turn.
“I thought I’d take you out tonight because you’ve had a rough few weeks. And you haven’t seemed entirely thrilled with my cooking.”
“Your cooking is amazing,” I tell him honestly. It always was.
He grins. “I was fishing for a compliment.”
I fiddle with my thumbs and chance a glance at him. “Sorry I’ve been sour this week.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. But I’d still like to take you to dinner. If you don’t want to go here, then we can take a drive a little further from town.”
I shake my head. “That’s silly. And I hear the food is good here.”
He winks. “Wait here.” He nods to the valet and steps out of the car, coming around and opening my door.
I glance down at my outfit again. Wondering if this skirt is slutty or if my boots are too “Charlie”.
Noah scans me appreciatively as he takes my hand. As if he could read my mind.
I suck in a silent breath as we enter. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but Noah’s grip tightens around my hand protectively.
A tall brunette I recognize from the last time I was here steps around the hostess desk. “Noah, good to see you again.” She squeezes his bicep and leans in, kissing his cheek. Then dips her gorgeous head to me. “And you’ve brought a guest.”
“We’ll be eating in tonight, Fiona.”
“A date?” She perks her brows.
“Your best table outside would be lovely, away from the band,” he instructs, ignoring her question.
“Of course. Bethany,” she calls, and chills run down my spine.
The all-too familiar quirky girl springs into view. She used to work at the Inn. Until six months ago, after an inappropriate comment to a customer.
That customer was me.
I’m not entirely sure if she quit or was let go, but Aiden Reeves never fires anyone, so her being replaced a week later remains a mystery.
Bethany’s smile is a tad too bright. “Hey, Noah. Charlie…” There’s a question about the way she says my name. She glances between us. “Table for two?”
“Yes, thank you.” His tone is polite but distant.
A Noah classic.
We’re seated at a table outside along the white fence with a fountain view. Noah pushes the menu aside like he knows it by heart. “Have you eaten here before?”
“Um…no.”
He cocks his head and I know the look. He doesn’t believe me.
“I think you’ll love the lobster ravioli and… a side dish of the olive dip.”
I set my menu down and avoid telling him that those things sound absolutely divine. “Sounds good.”
His eyes flash to the tinted windows of the restaurant and then back to me. “Did you know Bethany worked here? Is that why you didn’t want to come in?”
I fidget with my napkin. “No.”
“Good evening,” Jenna, who I did know worked here, greets us. “Can I start you with something to drink?”
“We’ll take a bottle of the Cabernet.”
Jenna’s brows perk judgingly, and she cocks her head toward me but doesn’t make eye contact. “You sure that’s a good idea for this one?”
Noah’s jaw tightens and he tilts his chin. “Excuse me?”
She nudges him playfully. “It’s a joke. I’m sure she can handle more than two glasses of red wine by now without making out with someone random.”
My chest is tight, but I don’t react. I turn my focus to the fountain over the lake. I won’t embarrass Noah the way I embarrassed my mother here last year.
“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” His voice is cool.
“Jenna Blake. We went to college together. I was in your lit class.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him smirk. “Well Jenna, first, if that does happen, I certainly hope I’m the lucky someone."
I turn back to him and he greets me with a wink. "Second, after you apologize to my date, I'd like you to get us a new server for the evening, preferably the manager—and I'll let you tell him or her why."
Jenna's eyes flutter away from Noah and she swallows hard when she turns to me. "My apologies, Charlie. I’ll…see who I can find and get you that bottle.”
My heart is thunderous in my chest and the only thing I see when I close my eyes is how stupidly drunk I was that night. Jenna was there. Bethany was there. As the years went by, I lost track of those who heard it through the grapevine and those who witnessed it with their own eyes.
“Charlie,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over my hand. It makes me shiver.
“That wasn't necessary," I mutter, avoiding his eyes.
“Maybe not for you.”
I turn to him. "I can handle it."
"What do you mean you can handle it? How often does this happen?"
I glare at him pointedly. "Don't act like you don't know."
"Charlie. Both of our reputations were ruined that night. The difference is no one gets away with saying shit to our face."
I watch him, realizing how serious he is. A grin touches my lips. "You had Beth fired from the Inn that day, didn't you?"
He doesn't blink, and there's no humor in his response. "And I didn't lose any sleep over it."
A bottle is placed between us, and I look up at the gorgeous brunette who got a little handsy with Noah when we walked in.
"The cabernet is on the house tonight, Noah. My apologies for my staff. I'll be right back to take your order," Fiona says, with forced enthusiasm.
I draw back, my face falling remembering why I hate this place.
“You’ve been here before.”
I lift my gaze to his. “With my mother. I brought her here for her fiftieth birthday last summer.”
“Same thing happened?”
I nod. “Not as filtered as they were with you.”
He huffs out a breath. “Who?”
“Jenna…and another waitress who didn’t know me or what I did, but caught up quickly, apparently. The remarks were harsh. The service was worse. We didn’t make it past the appetizer before I told them off and left.” I swipe against my forehead. “I ruined her birthday.”
He responds as if I'd offended him. “You didn’t ruin your mother’s birthday. If I know Sara, she was proud of you for standing up for yourself.” He lifts the bottle.
I hold the stem of my wine glass and chuckle weakly as he pours. "You keep saying things like that, you may just end up being that lucky someone."
He smirks and lifts his glass. "Here's to starting new rumors."
I’m through with the first glass as our meal comes, and I'm famished.
We watched the sunset waiting for our meal, but it doesn't beat the view from Noah's backyard. “It’s so pretty out here. So quiet.” A jazz band plays inside, but it's faint from the speakers.
“So, what were you looking at on your phone that was so fascinating when I picked you up?”
I frown when I remember what it was—or rather who it was—and roll my eyes. “A new pair of boots,” I manage to say without blushing.
“Do your new pair of boots come with a set of abs and tattoos?”
I wince, and he laughs. “Tell me. What was it?”
“Ugh. It was just something Pepper and I have been discussing and none of your business.” There. Why can’t it be as simple as that?
“Hmm…so it has something to do with your bucket list?”
“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie.
He takes a sip of his wine. “What does Landon Humphrey have to do with your list?”
My eyes widen.
He scrunches his nose. “Sorry, my eyes are trained to look at ‘evidence’ before it’s stashed.”
“You’re the worst. There’s nothing to see—tell. There’s nothing to tell.”
Like I’d tell him Pepper is proposing I do the deed with a hockey player out of my league—just so I could hit this milestone before I’m twenty-five. “A date,” I say, and it’s simple enough that I don’t need to elaborate.
“To her wedding? Like a one-time thing?”
My cheeks heat and I take a bite as if these five seconds could buy me enough time. “Yes. A date to her wedding.”
He laughs but there's no humor in it. “I don’t think a blind date with Humphrey to your best friend’s wedding is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know each other.”
“So. All he has to know is how to get me a drink and twirl me around on the dance floor.”
“Exactly. You won’t have time to talk.”
“I don’t think talking is what Pepper had in mind,” I mumble before my eyes widen and I cover my mouth.
Noah’s expression is stoic as he leans in. “I hope you said no.”
I jerk. “Why would I say no?”
“Because you’re not ready.”
“Not ready? Is there a minimum age for…being ready?”
“No. It’s different for everyone. And…you’re not there yet. You’re…”
“Unfuckable?” The word slips before I can stop it. But I'm so offended that I don't even care.
“What? No.”
“Pepper seems to think we’d be perfect for each other.”
“How’s that?”
“Not sure,” I snap. “When I go out with him, I’ll let you know.”
He chuckles. “Is this between you and Pepper or is he in on it too?”
“He’s in on it,” I say with a snarl, and I sound like a schoolgirl who's been accused of having an imaginary boyfriend.
I don’t know if I’m angrier at myself for making shit up as I go along or for him finding this funny.
“He doesn’t know anything about you,” he argues.
“Good. It’s a fresh start.”
He pauses and sits back. “Is that what you want? Is that why you’re leaving?”
I glance at the waitstaff inside the restaurant. “He doesn’t see me as a cheater.”
Fiona approaches our table with a delicious-smelling apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream. “Dessert?”
He keeps his eyes on me and hands her his card. “Looks great. Thank you.”
She walks off and Noah leans across the table. “For the record, I never did either.”