“I can be charming. We’ll figure it out,” he says, tone low as he hooks his hand into mine. “What time is dinner?”
Whoa… dinner? Oh yeah… we’re going to dinner.With his giant, rough, calloused hand swallowing mine, I know I shouldn’t feel anything about it, but I do and it’s got my head buzzing. I’ll do anything to keep this feeling going.
“Unless the whole ex-con thing bothers you. I mean, did you think it was further in the past than it was? I… I’m not proud of all that, but I’ve grown a lot.”
“It doesn’t bother me. I know who you are. I’ve watched you work hard and I’ve seen firsthand the kindness you’ve shown people.” I shrug. “It’s my mother I’m worried about. She’s a piranha and I’ve always been fresh blood.”
He leans in and kisses the top of my forehead like we’ve been together for a decade and it’s the most natural action in the world. “I’ll keep you safe tonight. You just let me take the lead.”
There’s silence for a minute and then I feel the warmest feeling I’ve ever felt rush over me. Most men don’t want the lead. They say they do, but then they outsource it immediately.
Either way, for the first time since my dad died, I feel safe. Safe like someone else has my back, like someone is looking out for me. Safe like this isn’t pretend.
Then all at once it hits me… how dangerous a place like‘feeling safe’can actually be.
Chapter Four
Jake
Yesterday, I’d have told you that nothing felt more natural to me than a hammer in my hand. Today, I realize how wrong I was.
Holding Charlotte’s hand, kissing her head, pulling her close, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. She’s warm, soft, and from this close, I can smell whatever floral shampoo she uses. I guess it could be a perfume. Whatever it is, I find myself leaning closer for a deeper breath.
Her mother stands from the table when she sees us approach, a wide smile cracking her dark red lipstick. It’s wild how different she and Charlotte are. Both in looks and attitude. Where her mother wears thick layers of makeup and loads of jewelry, Charlotte has a more natural look.
“Oh, sweet Jesus. How did you get more handsome in the last few hours?” Her mother reaches for me first, tipping up onto her toes to wrap her arms around my shoulders.
“That’s kind of you to say, ma’am, but I don’t think a single person notices me when I’m walking next to this one.” I pull away and nod toward Charlotte.
“Charming too, I see.” Her mother retreats to her side of the table next to a woman I’ve never met before. She’s young, barely an adult. I’m assuming this is the eighteen-year-old sister Charlotte’s been talking about. This one seemed to take afterthe mother. Loads of makeup, jewelry, and eyelashes nearly the length of my fingers.
I nod hello to the brunette and pull out a chair for Charlotte, drawing her hair to the side of her shoulder before leaning in and whispering, “If you want me to shut up, bump me once. Ready to leave… twice.”
She leans into my breath, and I drag my hand down her delicate shoulder and back into her hand as I take my seat beside her.
Being next to Charlotte feels good, but this restaurant isn’t my scene. I’d have preferred the diner, and that’s nothing against this Italian restaurant. The folks who own the place are great. We helped them with a barn build last year out on their property near Eagle Rock. That said, I’ll always be the kind of guy who prefers a down-home kind of meal over a fancy restaurant. I swear that fried chicken plate at the diner could win awards.
“Are you excited for your wedding?” I ask her sister who’s glancing over the menu.
“I am. My fiancé will take over his father’s medical practice in the Springs once he graduates from medical school.”
I nod slowly, unsure of how to respond to her comment. “Sounds like you got yourself a real catch.” I move my hand toward Charlotte’s thigh as I talk. I’m not sure why the liberties I’m taking feel so natural, but I go with the flow and let the moment happen, hiding behind the guise of our fake relationship. “Are you in college?”
“No… not now. I don’t know what I want to do with my life,” she smiles turning to her mother for approval, “except marrying a doctor.”
I drag in a heavy breath and glance down at the menu myself, trying to fathom where to take the conversation next.
I force a grin. “That is quite the accomplishment.”
“She’s a smart girl,” her mother adds. “Top of her class all senior year. If she wanted to go to college, she could. Then again, Charlotte spent five years in college for psychology and look at her now… working in your construction office, struggling to pay off loans.”
I glance toward Charlotte, wishing I had every detail of her life up until now. “I couldn’t do things at the office without her. None of us could.”
“Well,” her eyes narrow playfully, “I think you could’ve done better today given the circumstances.”
“Well,” I bump her shoulder playfully, “we’ve gotta keep those city guys on their toes.”
“Why don’t you use your degree, Charlotte?” Her mother leans in as the waitress settles a basket of bread and dipping oil between us. “You spent so much money on that thing.”
