“I mean it. You being here, with us—it’s not some obligation or favor we’re doing you. It’s…” I search for the right words. “It’s everything falling into place the way it should have years ago.”
She swallows hard, her grip tightening on the ice cream. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because.” She shakes her head. “Because it makes this harder. Makes it harder to keep my walls up. To protect myself.”
“Maybe you don’t need walls with us.” I take a small step closer, testing. “Maybe you’re safe here. Really safe. Not just physically, but…”
“Emotionally?” She lets out a shaky laugh. “That’s the scary part, Charlie. I can handle physical. I know how to deal with that. But this?” She gestures between us. “You guys offering me everything, making me feel like I belong—that’s terrifying.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It is, though. Because what happens when the two months are up? When this fake courtship ends, and I’m supposed to just… what? Walk away as if none of this mattered?”
“Who says it has to end?” The question comes out before I can stop it.
She stares at me, her gray eyes wide. “Charlie…”
“I’m just saying—we don’t have to follow the rules we set. We can change them. Make new ones.” I force myself to stay where I am, even though everything in me wants to close the distance between us. “If you want to.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she whispers. “Everything’s so confusing.”
“Then don’t think about it right now. Just…” I nod toward the ice cream. “Eat your weird salty ice cream. Be here with me. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”
She nods slowly, opening the pint and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. She takes a bite, then reaches for the salt shaker, sprinkling just a pinch over the top. When she takes the next bite, her eyes close and a small, satisfied sound escapes her.
“Better?” I ask.
“Mmm. So much better.” She takes another bite, and I watch her relax incrementally, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “You think I’m weird.”
“I think you’re perfect.”
She looks up at me, spoon halfway to her mouth, and something shifts in the air between us. The playfulness fades, replaced by something heavier, more charged.
“Charlie…” Her voice is soft, uncertain.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” The question comes out before I can stop it.
She blinks, surprised. But nods her head.
I can still see it clearly—the back horse pen, the summer heat, the way she looked at me with those big gray eyes full of determination. “You just… did it. Didn’t warn me or anything.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “You looked so shocked.”
“I was. You were my best friend’s little sister. And you just grabbed my shirt and kissed me.” I shake my head at the memory. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“It was terrible,” she says, but she’s smiling for real now. “I bumped your nose. And you just stood there like a statue.”
“I was terrified. Terrified your brother would find out. Terrified of how much I liked it. Terrified of what it meant that I wanted you to do it again.” I move closer. “I’ve wanted to redo that moment a hundred times over the years. Get it right this time.”
She swallows hard, watching me approach. “Charlie…”
“Can I try?” I ask, stopping just out of reach—but I don’t miss the way her scent swells in the air. I nod toward her ice cream. “Let me have a bite.”
She considers this for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”
I close the distance between us and, before she can protest, I lift her effortlessly onto the counter. She makes a small sound of surprise, her legs dangling, pretty bare feet, cute as fuck. Her thighs are slightly apart, the ice cream still clutched in her hands.
