Chapter Six
“First course is almost done,” Charity told Kolby.
“‘K.”
He was fiddling with his camera and never looked over at her.
“The bride asked me if you could get some shots of her grandparents and parents.”
“Already did, but I’ll get more.”
Still avoiding eye contact. It had been like that all week, ever since the day after her migraine episode. He’d come into the office in the morning, mumble a quick Hey, then retreat to his office where she heard him working and making calls.
He’d emerge at lunchtime, ask if she wanted anything and then leave. Back half an hour later and into his office once again.
Every day that week.
Charity should have been happy because it seemed like Operation Ignore the Beast was now fully, well, operational.
Why wasn’t she then? Why did his sudden and unexpected behavior change bother her so much? Isn’t this what she wanted? For him to ignore her so she could ignore him back and forget about the night-that-never-should-have-happened?
The realization she missed him, actually missed him-him-shot through her, making her heart slam to a stop.
Goodness, it was true. She did miss him. Missed his subtle, annoying teasing about her work, her voice, everything else. Missed his silly smirks whenever she was in professional speaking mode with a client. She even missed listening to his country music.
Holy Hannah and all the Murgatroyds.
She shuddered, then couldn’t decide if it was from horror or lust.
Or maybe hunger. The real kind, not the desire kind.
Although...if she was going to be honest, it was probably both.
***
Finally having a break while the guests ate dinner, Charity spotted Olivia Joyner heading to the bar in the corner of the room and made a bee-line for her.
Olivia, Heaven’s amazing matchmaker, was an important part of the life plan Charity had devised and she needed to implement it.
“Hi, Mrs. Joyner,” she said to the attractive platinum blonde.
“Charity, hi. And I've told you to call me Liv, hon. Everyone does.”
Charity bobbed her head a few times. Her fingers were shaking so hard she had to thread them together. Why was she so nervous? She’d spoken to Olivia many times over the years she’d worked for Colleen. The woman was an absolute doll and one of the nicest people she’d ever met.
Dumb question, girl. You’re not nervous, you’re scared she’s gonna say no.
“Is everything okay?” Liv put a hand on Charity’s shoulder.
“I was... I mean...”
Liv glanced around, then told the bartender, “Keep these for me.” She took Charity’s hand and guided her through the room’s glass doors and into the garden abutting the terrace.
Twilight was ebbing into the inky darkness of full night and crickets had already begun their evening chant. Together, they walked down the terrace path to the inn’s gazebo.
Olivia stopped and took Charity’s free hand in hers. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Honest. It’s just...well...” She took a deep breath, thrilled when she finally stopped shaking. “I’m going to be thirty soon.”
Liv smiled. “Congrats.”
“Thanks.” She bit down on her lip again.
“So. I was thinkin’. Thinking,” she repeated to erase the south from her voice.
“It’s kinda tough to meet anyone...guys.
Around here, I mean. So. I know you’ve got, like, this great rep with matching people, and I thought, maybe. ..well, maybe you could...help me?”
Olivia’s face broke into a huge smile as she squeezed Charity’s hands. “Of course I can. I’d be honored.”
Relief cascaded through her so quickly she almost lost her footing.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Liv smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “Call my office and we’ll set up an appointment for you to come in so I can give you my undivided attention. Okay?”
"So okay." Charity’s grin pulled at her cheeks. “Thanks, Mrs, er, Liv. Really. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“Charity, where are you?” A voice boomed from behind them.
With an eye roll, she told the matchmaker, “The bane of my existence: an annoying photographer. I’d better go, or he’ll be screaming for real, next. I’ll call tomorrow. Promise.”
***
The wedding wound down two hours later.
After saying goodbye to the bride and groom and a few of the guests, Charity and Kolby gathered up their belongings.
An awkward silence surrounded them. A silence that he’d become accustomed to this past week.
He’d done his best to avoid her because it appeared that’s what she wanted. Without Colleen to act as a referee, he’d realized being alone with her was something he wanted more than he should. Way more than she wanted, to be sure.
While in his office, working on photo files, his mind would drift beyond his closed door to where she sat, regal and gorgeous. Wonder what she was doing. If she was hungry; eating; fighting off a headache.
Charity Quinlan had crawled under his skin in a way he hadn’t seen coming, and had brought out all the protective, softer facets of his personality he hid from the public.
The face he showed to the world of the cocky, self-assured, always up for anything party and pleasure-seeking guy, was not the true Kolby Sanders O’Brian.
Not even close.
But it was a facade he’d adopted early in his life, when circumstances had forced him to be an adult way before he was ready. A facade that he’d perpetuated to keep the real Kolby from ever being seen.
Nervously, he fiddled with his camera equipment for a moment before saying, “Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to eat.” He attempted a smirk. “Filming all that food in there and not having any made me hungry.”
Charity’s stomach took the opportunity to rumble loudly at just that moment. Her hands flew to her abdomen, a spot he knew personally, was as flat as a plank.
His left eyebrow crawled up his forehead and, just like that, he was in protective mode again, all thoughts of avoiding her flying from his mind.
“Did you eat anything today?” he asked as he tucked his camera back into the case.
“Apparently, not enough.” She blew out a breath, shaking her head. A sweet, rosy flush crawled up her neck and jaw, landing on her cheeks.
He wanted to ask her to go with him to ensure she ate something and eradicated that hunger crawling about inside her.
But the memory of what happened the last time he’d taken her for food reared itself full and in startling technicolor in his brain, so he simply nodded and slung his case over his shoulder.
What possessed him to do what he did next would always be a mystery, because he knew better. Knew he should just keep going, keep his mouth shut, keep his thoughts hidden.
But...
He watched her shove her phone into the huge messenger bag she carried to every event and said, “I was actually gonna stop by the diner on the way home and grab a sub to go.”
Charity stilled, her hand in her bag.
He bit down on the inside of his cheek. “Wanna grab something with me? You’ve got your own car, so I don’t need to give you a lift,” he added, quickly.
Her head snapped up, and she turned to him, her face betraying every thought she was having. Brows tugging together above her nose, the corner of her mouth pinched between her teeth, eyes glassy.
Kolby felt a fist slam into his stomach.
Shouldn’t have asked. Obviously, the thought of being alone with him still aggravated her. Hell, way more than aggravated if that disgusted look was anything to go by.
He shrugged with an ease he didn’t feel. “Up to you.” He pulled his truck keys from his pocket.
He turned to go, sliding to a halt when he heard her say, “That’s not a bad idea.”
Surprise galloped inside him as he glanced at her over his shoulder.
“I haven’t had a chance to get in any groceries this week and I’m too tired to go shopping right now.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a tiny grin as she tugged her own car keys from her bag and nodded. “Something from The Last Supper sounds good.”
With a quick head bob, he held the door open for her and followed her into the parking lot, walked her to her car and waited while she got settled. “See you in a bit,” she said, engaging the engine.
Kolby stood and watched her ease out of the lot and onto the country road. Once she was out of sight, he shook his head while he jumped into his truck.
The girl had more moods than he could keep up with or even name. One minute so cold toward him he felt his extremities freeze, the next melting to a tepid détente that left him reeling.
Whatever the reasons for her shifting attitude, he was grateful she wasn’t cursing him out or looking at him like something she needed to scrape off the bottom of her shoes.
Small reward, he thought as he waited for a traffic light to change, but he’d take it.
Saturday night at The Last Supper was a staple among a certain generation of Heaven-ites. As the Love Shack catered to a younger crowd, the diner held court with more seasoned citizens.
When Kolby entered, he spotted Gavin, his landlord, in a booth with his lady friend du jour, a thrice divorcee who’d actually made a play for him in the local grocery, Rhapsody in your Mouth one afternoon, asking, suggestively, if he had a private collection of photographs he showed only to certain people.
That she wanted to be one of those people wasn’t lost on him. Respectfully, he’d told her no and then to have a nice day.
Gavin caught his eye and winked a hello. Kolby bobbed his head.
At the counter, several elderly gazes turned his way, all male, all alone.
Saturday night and these gents were eating at a local diner, sans company, and looking lonely.
A few gave him a nod of recognition. One scowled.
Kolby had no idea why, just figured the guy was a perpetual grump and let it go.
The thought that this is what his future looked like – alone and lonely – gave him a moment of pause.