Chapter Nineteen #5
“Thanks for dinner,” he said. “It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome, and I’ll tell my mama since it’s her recipe.”
The silence around them grew tight. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, to ask her, but now wasn’t the time.
Would it ever be the right time?
“Come with me tomorrow,” he said out of the blue.
Her back snapped straight. “Kolby? Are you sure that’s a good idea? She wasn’t exactly happy to see me the last time I visited.”
“At this point I don’t know what’s a good idea or not. I just know I don’t want you sitting here, in this house all day long. It’s too...depressing.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” She stretched out a hand and placed in on his forearm. In an eye blink he threaded his fingers into hers. “I’ve got work to keep me busy.”
“Come with me.” He took her other hand and held both now. “I want you there with me, Charity.”
“Why?”
Because I’m a selfish bastard and I can’t stand the thought of you being away from me for even a second.
“I think it might help. Her.”
Liar. It’s you it’s gonna help.
“It didn’t last week.”
Nodding he said, “Things are different now. Maybe, well, maybe she’ll be a little more like she usually is with people. Friendly, outgoing. Engaged. That’s what I’m hoping, anyway.”
The indecision played across her face in her pursed lips and furrowed brows while they stood there. He was asking a lot, he understood that. Most women wouldn’t want to be in the position of visiting someone mentally ill that they didn’t know or have a relationship with.
But Charity wasn’t most people. She understood the ins and outs of mental illness, wouldn’t judge his mother, and just may be able to brighten her spirits. He knew having there would do that for him.
“Okay,” she said after a few moments. She pressed his hands. “But if my presence agitates her, I’m going to leave, okay? It’s not worth getting her upset.”
“No. Of course not. Thank you. Thank you.”
Another few beats of silence as they stayed rooted to their spots.
“Can I—”
He shook his head.
Charity squeezed his hands. “Can you what?”
His lungs filled with air before he let the breath go. “I know things have been weird between us at times,” he said. Her head tilted. “More than weird. Combative. But I’m really glad you’re here, Charity. And that we’re, well, getting along.”
“Me, too.”
Another few beats in which they both stood, silently staring at one another.
“What did you want to ask me?”
He gnawed at his bottom lip. Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth.
When her own lips parted on a silent breath, he lost the capability to think coherently.
He wanted that mouth, that gorgeous mouth, pressed against his.
He wanted to sip, nip, swipe at the lips he’d fantasized kissing too many times to remember.
He wanted her lips to skim down his naked body, wetting every inch of him they touched with her tongue.
And he wanted to do the same to her.
Kolby swallowed and tried to focus. “Can I...I feel like an idiot asking this, but, can I...hug you?”
If she was surprised by the request, she didn’t show it. Instead, she dropped her grip on his hands, wound them around his waist while pressing her body to his, and rested her head against his chest.
There was no way she couldn’t hear how his heart bounded against his ribcage, tripling in rate as she burrowed into him. Or notice the way his hands shook when they wound around her back, his palms flattening against the dip in her spine, fingers splaying.
And, dear God, there was no way she could miss how his body responded to having hers flat up against him from shoulders to knees.
Kolby let his lids drift down and simply luxuriated in the warmth and comfort she exuded like a sunny day.
He must have made some kind of sound of pleasure because her back shifted as she chuckled.
“My mama preaches the benefits of a hug any chance she gets.” Caught against his chest her voice was a tiny mumble. The sensation of her lips skimming against his shirt was intoxicating.
He tightened his hold. Not enough to imprison her, but enough so she’d know what the embrace meant to him.
He wanted to kiss her so much. So damn, stinking much. He wanted to explore and seduce every part of her mouth with his own and when he was done, move further down so he could discover and make love to the rest of her.
What he wanted to do warred so violently with what he should do that he shuddered.
Charity pulled her arms from around him and took a step back. Her cheeks had turned the most alluring pink and her lips had somehow plumped even more than usual, probably from gnawing on them so much.
“Better?”
“Yeah. Your mother is right. About hugs, I mean.”
Her simple smile charmed him. “She is, bless her heart, about most things.”
That eyeroll was his downfall.
“It’s amazin’ and infuriatin’ at the same time.”
With an understanding nod, he shoved his hands in his pockets. He was in serious danger of dragging her against him and carrying her to his room if he didn’t.
“Well, work waits,” she said, folding her own hands together. They were trembling like his had. “I’d better get to it. You go to bed, hear? Get some rest.”
His lips lifted. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Well. Okay. ‘Night.” She turned and moved toward the guest room.
“Charity?”
She stopped and turned back.
“Thanks again. For everything. Everything.”
With a nod and a soft smile, she went into her room.
In his, he closed the door behind him and laid his forehead against the cool wood. His body was on fire and the chill was a welcome balm.
“You’ve got it bad, man,” he mumbled. “Really bad.”