Chapter Sixteen #3
With a gentle shoulder bob, she said, “I want what I imagine most people want. To be loved, have a family of my own. A lifetime mate.” She dragged in a breath and told him something she’d never said aloud to anyone else before.
“I want to be the reason a guy smiles whenever he thinks about me. I want what my parents have, what they are: best friends and lovers for life. Two people who will always have the other’s best interests at the top of their minds.
Who will always have the other’s back. Who’ll walk together, in perfect step, no matter what life throws at them. ”
She lifted her eyes to his again to find his face cloudy. When had tears formed in her eyes? Why had they?
“I just want someone who loves me for me,” she added, one of those tears sliding down her cheek. Impatiently, she swiped at it with her fingertips.
“I just want to be loved.”
It was a long moment before Kolby spoke. He kept her hand in his, his thumb caressing the web between her thumb and index finger, softly, gently. Soothingly.
“You deserve all of that,” he said at last. “You deserve to have every single thing you want, Charity. No one deserves it more than you.”
Her gaze lifted to his. When she saw the truth of his words on his face, she exhaled.
“Do you think you can have all that with Ted?”
Charity blinked, then rolled her eyes. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Her mouth pulled into a thin line as she shook her head. There was no heat behind the look she tossed him, merely acceptance.
He grinned.
“His name is Tom, and you know it is.”
Kolby’s shoulder moved in a careless lift, and he repeated his question.
Could she have what she wanted with Tom? More importantly, did she want it with him? Liv had matched them and she knew what she was doing, right?
Why did she have such doubt, then?
“I don’t know,” she said, floored by her own honesty. She couldn’t imagine admitting that to anyone. Why had she to Kolby?
He squeezed her hand, then let it go. He rested his elbows on the table and peered across it at her, something crossing his gaze.
“That’s a very telling answer,” he said. “Something to consider before things get more involved between you, I think”
He was right, and a tiny part of her was angry he was. Not at him. At the situation. Kolby had made her speak into the universe what she wanted for her future and in so doing, had put Tom under a microscope to see if he could be all those things.
“Look,” he said while she was thinking. “I’ve got some things to do back at my apartment. I haven’t been there in over a week and I’m sure I’ve got a boatload of mail to go through. Plus, I need to get things prepared for the week.”
“I’ve got things to get ready for tomorrow, as well,” she said, deciding to put her thoughts to rest for now. She stood with her plate in her hand and reached for his. He beat her to it and stood with it, then brought it to the sink.
“You cooked. Let me do the dishes.”
“Not in this lifetime,” she said, pushing him out of the way so she could rinse them and get them into the dishwasher. “If my mama knew I’d let a guest clean up, she’d tan my hide six ways from Sunday and add Monday for good measure.”
Kolby’s laugh, deep and rich, sent a flowing river of lava along her insides. The pleased smile that broke across her mouth erupted broad and clear.
She kept her back to him so he wouldn’t see it when she said in a voice filled with a feigned haughtiness, “I’m so glad you take pleasure in my potential parental punishment.”
His laugh only grew.
She righted and schooled her features before turning around. He stood there, leaning a hip against her counter, his hands bracing it behind him, the pleasure on his face doing weird and wonderful things to her toes.
Thoughts of her future, of Tom, of everything, fled and she couldn’t contain her own laughter a moment longer. Shaking her head, she let her smile break free.
They stood staring at one another for a few seconds, their laughter convivial.
Then, just like it had right before the kitchen-kiss, the air surrounding them changed. Thickened.
Intensified.
A barely perceptible gasp pushed between her parted lips when Kolby pushed off the counter and came to stand directly in front of her.
She’d taken her shoes off once she’d walked through the front door, so their height difference was substantial, and she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact.
She might have fallen backward if not for his hands both reaching out and sliding into hers to hold her still.
“Thank you,” he said in a soft voice.
Charity swallowed. “For what?”
He squeezed her hands. “Everything. From the fabulous meal, to sharing that vivid little look into your family. For,” he shook his head, dropping his gaze for a beat.
Lifting it again, he added, “For not pushing for details about my mother. For understanding exactly what I needed after the week I’ve had.
” Another squeeze, this time drawing her closer.
“For being the best friend I’ve had in a long, long time, Charity.
Maybe,” he took a breath, “the only friend I’ve had. ”
Her heart stuttered to a stop as tears threatened to fall again.
Gone was the cocky, devil-may-care photographer, always quick with a sexy smile; the smirking, flirty guy who lived life one day at a time and charmed everyone with two X chromosomes. In its stead was a man who oozed humility and gratitude.
Kolby O’Brian, humble and sincere. Who’d have thought she’d ever see the day?
And who’d have thought – certainly not her – that she could grow to admire him so much?
Admire? Who you kiddin’, Baby-girl, CarlieRae’s voice bellowed in her head. You’re half in love with the man.
Maybe a little more than half, Mama.
Charity blinked like she was sending a Morse-coded message.
Good golly! She was falling in love with him. Him. The bane of her life. The man who simultaneously made her angry and turned on. Who caused her stomach muscles to contract with fury and her legs to turn to jello whenever he smiled at her. The man who’d just told her she was his best friend.
Friend.
The realization she wanted to be so much more than a friend to Kolby was terrifying.
But...was it? Really?
“I-I’m glad I could help,” she stammered. She shot a silent eye roll at herself for sounding so lame.
“More than help,” he said, once again pressing her hands.
He glanced down at them, then back up at her.
“And I want to tell you what happened this week with my mother, but," he shook his head and that fringe of hair she wanted to thread her fingers through sheltered his eyes.
Flinging it back like a supermodel, he looked back at her.
“I need a little time to just get back to normal. You know?”
“Actually, I do. I get it, Kolby. And I’m here whenever you want to talk. As a,” she dragged in a huge breath, "friend.”
Why did the word taste bitter and leave her feeling hollow?
He tilted his head, his brows crawling toward the center of his forehead. She recognized the look. It meant he was poised to ask her a question.
“But for now,” she said, cutting him off before he could, “You need to get home and I need to get everything set for tomorrow, make last minute calls, and check my to-do list.”
His smile was slow and knowing as the question fled his eyes. “You mean obsess about everything in triplicate.”
Her lips pursed. “There’s a reason our events go off so smoothly, you know. Preparation is the key to a successful wedding.”
He nodded, squeezed her hands one more time, then released them. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”
She walked him to the door, opened it and stood to the side.
“I’ll pick you up at six. Good?”
“I’ll be ready.”
Another grin, then, “I know you will,” he said, his gaze lingering softly on her face. “Goodnight.”
“ ‘Night.”
Charity shut the door behind him, leaned back against it, and let a deep, reverberating sigh break through her lips.