The conversation resumed. Charlie’s dad asked me about my investment firm and my direction in the company. The ice thawed between our mothers enough to spark a discussion about the expansion of the golf course at their country club and the memorial garden they’d been planning. Even Daniel and Mariah took part in the chatter, but none of them, not a one, asked about Charlie.
What the hell?
And the minute the food arrived, Charlie just stared at it.
She’d eat it. She was too defiant not to, but the shit her mother said would be there in every bite.
Well, I could fix that.
Grabbing my fork, I reached over and scooped up a good sized bite of the potato from her plate. Whipped and fluffy with sour cream, the crust dotted with applewood smoked bacon over cheddar cheese; I made sure I got a bit of everything.
Her gaze locked on that first bite, and her tongue darted out to brush her lips.
Yeah, she wanted it. And she deserved to have it without a heaping of guilt.
Turning toward her, I curled my hand around her neck and waited for her to meet my eyes. “Come here.”
Glassy eyes met mine before dropping to my mouth.
My gut bottomed out.
My parents worked hard to instill manners and responsibility in me.
PDA? A huge no-no. But right here, right now, I wanted to take a note from Charlie’s playbook and add a little defiant shock value to the evening. Fueled by an underlying current of disdain for her mother’s words, I said fuck-all to the lessons in propriety and captured her smart mouth in a determined kiss.
Every goddamned sound faded away to the echo of our breath mingling between us and the drum of my heart pounding behind my ribs.
Her flavor? Bad decisions and mango Chapstick with a hint of my-life-will-never-be-the-same.
At the sound of the squeak from her throat, I squeezed my fingers over the column of her velvety neck, my thumb resting over the spot where her heartbeat raced under her skin.
As a true glutton for punishment, I nipped at that bottom lip before letting her go.
Forehead pressed to hers, I smiled at her dazed expression. “Now, open that smart mouth of yours and eat the potato, Charlie.”
Her lips parted and I settled the fork on her tongue, never taking my gaze off her mouth. My chest squeezed and my jeans shrunk a couple sizes, suspiciously only in the zipper area, as her lips closed around the fork. Time slowed, every last second of feeding her searing itself into my brain. With a low, sultry hum, she dragged her mouth back until the tines popped from between her plump lips.
Fuck my life.
I shifted and silently cursed myself.
Before dinner, sharing a room had been an annoyance.
But now… now five nights had danger written all over it.
And despite every warning flashing through my brain like a light machine at a rave, I didn’t have even one ounce of self-preservation to stop the gruff words that came next.
“Good girl.”
ChapterSix
Charlie
What the hell was that?
Okay, so I had a lapse in confidence. My mother made comments all the time and usually I let them roll off, but in the wake of the judgment from Nick’s mother, and Daniel and Mariah having a front-row seat, I just—I don’t know. My brain farted, okay?
Then her saint of a son stuffed me with potato. My potato, his potato, the communal potato.
