* * *
“Charlie, I appreciate everything you’ve done today, but I promise, I can make it from here.” She retrieved a set of keys from her purse and stepped out of the car. “I don’t want to keep you any longer. You’re probably as exhausted as me, and I don’t have to drive another half hour to Sequoia Valley.”
“I told Nan that I’d tuck you in. Once you’re in bed, I’ll leave.”
“You are so stubborn.” She rolled her eyes as they walked to the door.
“You can blame my mom’s side of the family.”
With a click, the deadbolt unlatched, and they walked inside. If it had been any other time, she would’ve ensured her apartment had been cleaned from top to bottom before inviting a guest inside. She hated the idea of making a bad first impression on Charlie.
She tapped the light switch, flooding the kitchen and living room with light. She cringed. There were dishes in the sink, a takeout container on the counter, blankets and pillows on the floor.
“Sorry for the mess.”
Charlie entered behind her and closed the door. “You’ve seen my office. Compared to that, this place looks spotless.”
She placed her keys on the kitchen island and started toward the sink, rolling the sleeves of her jacket up to her elbow.
“What are you doing?” He raised an eyebrow.
“The dishes?” She pinched her lips together. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sink full of dishes. It’s an invitation for creepy crawly things to invade the kitchen.”
Charlie moved beside her and rolled up his own sleeves. “Go change and get ready for bed. Leave the dishes to me.”
“Charlie, no.”
“Look, the sooner you do as I say, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.” He gently nudged her with his hip. “Let me do this for you. You’re dead on your feet.”
As soon as he said that, her limbs suddenly felt extra heavy. She glanced toward the hallway with the bathroom, then back to the kitchen. He had already added the orange dish soap to the sponge by the sink.
“Go.”
He started to whistle a tune fromMy Fair Ladyand dance in place as he scrubbed the plates and silverware.Grabbing a set of pajamas, she slowly made her way to the bathroom.
When she returned to the living room, changed, with her face washed and teeth brushed, Charlie was sitting on the couch flipping through a photo album she and Gemma had been working on putting together.
Hearing her approach, he looked up. He had a sheepish expression on his face. “I hope you don’t mind. This was just sitting here, and I was curious.”
“It’s fine.”
“Are all these from Dreams on Ice?”
She nodded. “Yeah, from my last week.”
She pulled her hair loose and shook it free, massaging her tender scalp. “Mmm . . . much better.”
Charlie closed the album, placed it on the coffee table, and watched her. “Your hair looks beautiful when it’s down. I never noticed you had purple streaks in it, or that it was so long. When I see you, it’s always up in a bun.”
“That’s my signature look. If it’s down, it gets in the way.” He patted the couch, and she sat next to him and scooted into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.
“It smells like strawberries too.” He played with the ends.
For a long while, they sat there, both content. Frankie finally allowed her body to relax. “You’re the perfect pillow. Now all I need is a massage.”
“As the lady wishes.” He chuckled. “Where do you carry most of your stress? In the neck? Shoulders?”
“Neck.”
