Chapter Ten
Why did the man have to be so...so...everything?
The cocky grin should be a turnoff to someone like her, who’d witnessed enough of them in her life from her own brothers.
The hard, well-maintained body should definitely put her off because he was just too much, all around for her. Too much muscle; too much strength; too much natural warmth flowing from him like live lava. Just too damn much.
And he needed a haircut. Had for a month, by her estimation.
Because her plan to ignore him was constantly disrupted, she'd abandoned it. For the business’s sake, she needed to interact closely with him.
They’d flown together, seat to seat, and she had to admit, grudgingly, he’d been sweet and patient when she’d gone into panic mode.
He hadn’t reacted like she’d expected and laughed off her fear, but guided her through the height–no pun–of her anxiety about being carted in the air like a weightless bird.
They were also stuck in the same house now, through a computer glitch. It would be so much easier to avoid him if they had separate rooms in the hotel. But being in the same house, sharing all the same space, it was impossible to do so. Especially since he made his presence known just by breathing.
As soon as they were on the dance floor, a smattering of couples cleaved to one another like they were glued body-to-body and making her think they were all on their honeymoons, Charity turned and Kolby held up his hands and grinned down at her.
A headache was surely on the horizon from the amount of eye-rolling she was trying to keep contained. Without uttering a word, she slid into his arms.
The moment they secured her against his body, a delicious sense of wellbeing and warmth enveloped her.
The heat she could explain. The man was a virtual furnace. But the feeling that all was right in her world was mystifying.
And terrifying.
Because her little crush on the bane of her everyday existence was turning into something much stronger than simple infatuation.
“I’m trying to figure out the mood behind that sigh.” His deep voice caressed the area between them. “And I can’t figure out if you’re mad, tired, worried, or,” he let go with a chuckle that reverberated through her, “frustrated.”
She’d be an idiot if she didn’t get the meaning behind the word and CarlieRae and Rory Quinlan didn’t raise no morons.
With a gentle shrug of one shoulder, she answered him truthfully, with a question. “Why can’t it be a mix of all of them?”
His grip tightened on her just enough she knew he understood her.
“I’m mad about the hotel room snafu,” she said, “tired because, duh, I’ve been up since four a.m. I’m worried something will mar the wedding and all the planning that’s been done.”
He pulled back and gazed down at her, his brows lifting behind the fringe of badly needing-a-trim hair that fell across his forehead. “And frustrated?”
She held his gaze, noting the way the colors in his eyes moved in a hypnotic dance as they bounced back and forth across her own.
She took in another deep breath. “Because you, Kolby O’Brian, are the most maddening man I’ve ever known.”
“Me? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Why am I so maddening? I think I’m an open book. You get what you see and that’s that.”
Her high ponytail swished around her cheeks as she shook her head.
“Open book is the last thing you are.” Before he could challenge that, she barreled ahead. In for a penny, in for a shot’o whiskey, Granny Quinlan always said.
“You give off this man about town, total player vibe, which I’ve witnessed for myself.”
His grin made her toes curl.
“But I haven’t seen nor heard about you hooking up with anyone for a few months. That event planner slithered her number into your hand and I found the piece of paper, with a lipstick kiss on it, which is so fifth grade, in the trash basket in your office.”
His shrug was casual. “She wasn’t my type.”
“She had a pulse and was breathing, which, up until recently, was always your type.”
“Hey. That’s insulting.” There was no heat behind the declaration.
“No. That’s the good Lord’s truth.”
Kolby spun her around when the music changed tempo.
“For another,” she said when she slipped her arms around him again, “You’ve been extremely nice to me recently. Ever since the night that will never be spoken about. I find that confusing, since you basically blackmailed me afterward.”
“That’s another insulting word,” he said, lifting their arms in a circle and twirling her around a few times until she came back to him again. “I didn’t blackmail you. I simply said I’d keep my word if you started treating me like a work equal and not a pariah.”
“You were never a pariah,” she said. “Just....” She lifted one shoulder.
“Annoying. All that blatant flirting with every woman we came in contact with. Even today on the plane. That flight attendant was all set to give you some instructions on mouth-to-mouth when you smiled at her. I figured you'd ask for her number before we deplaned, but you didn’t.”
“Again, not my type.”
“Why don’t I believe that? Anyway, all this reversal has me frustrated because it’s hard to treat you like I always have when you’re being so gentlemanly. And I can’t believe I just used that word in this day and age and to describe you of all people.”
His grin grew. “You know, when you don’t think about what you’re going to say, that little drawl you try to hide slips out and it’s just the cutest thing. I love hearing it.”
“Yeah, well no one would accuse you a'being normal.”
“There,” he said, lifting their joined hands and pointing at her with one of his fingers. “Right there. No one would accuse ya of bein’ nawmal,” he repeated, the slightest inflection tripping across the words. “Adorable.”
Charity laughed. She couldn’t help it. In that moment, he sounded so much like her brothers when they spoke it surprised her. And for some odd reason, warmed her heart.
“Now that’s a sound that I don’t hear nearly enough,” Kolby said, shifting so her head rested on his chest. His fingers tripped up and down her back, softly, like he was strumming a guitar. “You should laugh more, my girl. It’s a great sound.”
Charity closed her eyes and settled against him. “I laugh at you all the time,” she said.
It was his turn to make the sound. “Yeah, but those times are mostly with derision. That laugh just now was heartfelt.”
What could she say? He wasn’t wrong. They’d been fighting for three years.
Well, be honest, girl. You’ve been the one doing the spittin’ and yellin’.
But there was something different about their relationship now.
It wasn’t that they’d slept together, because she still couldn’t remember a lick of that night.
It was more they’d come to a truce prompted by him asking her to respect him and his work.
And when she’d agreed, and followed through on her promise, he’d changed.
Slowly. Subtly. Purposefully so.
For the first time, she was viewing him as a man with talent and natural charisma and not as a hound dog playa who flirted with anything possessing breasts – whether real or fake.
She hadn’t seen him pull his usual flirt-monster from his pocket once of late, not even when given every opportunity by the women they came in contact with.
She was dying to know why. People didn’t, as a rule, change. Leopards and spots, Baby-girl Carlie Rae had said more times than she could remember. Her mother had the uncanny ability to see human nature for all its flaws, foibles, and inconsistencies and always be correct.
Admitting she liked this Kolby O’Brian was major.
What–if anything-she wanted to do about it was an entirely different problem, because in truth?
She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She had a plan and needed to stick to it.
Dating someone like Kolby, not that he’d asked her, of course, was something not in that plan.
The music set ended, and the band announced they were taking a quick break.
Charity pulled out of his arms and clapped along with everyone else. When it was just the two of them left on the dance floor, Kolby slung his hands in his pockets and said, “I guess we ought to head back. Busy day tomorrow.”
She nodded and retrieved her purse from the table.
“Want me to drive?” he asked when they found their cart at the restaurant.
She handed him the keys. Once they were back in the cottage, Kolby asked, “What time should I be ready to go in the morning?”
“Not until after lunch, so you can sleep in if you want.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will. This place is paradise. Think I’ll get up, have a run around the island, see some spots I missed today. That should give me enough time to get back and shower before we head up to the hotel.”
Picturing him naked in the shower was something she wasn’t going to do. As soon as she thought it, though, the perfect picture of him just that way popped into her head.
“’K,” she said, “I’ve got some details to go over for next week’s wedding, so I’ll use that time until you’re ready to go.”
Kolby nodded, his hands back in his pockets. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll say good night.”
“’Night.”
They both stood rooted.
After a moment, Charity gave herself an internal tug and ambled toward her side of the cottage.
When she came to her door and just as she opened it, she stopped because Kolby called her name.
She turned.
“I had a good time today. Tonight,” he said, simply. “Feels like the first time in a long time we both got a chance to just relax.”
Because she felt exactly the same, she nodded. “Back to reality tomorrow,” she said.
He cocked his head and grinned. “See ya in the morning.”
She nodded and opened her door. When it closed behind her, she leaned back against it and sighed.
This was going to be a long, long weekend.