Whatever their secret sauce is, I want some of it. Maybe Charlotte inherited enough of it to make up for what I lack. Could I ever be so fortunate to be with her? Is there enough of that happy family fairy dust on her it could rub off on me?
The orchestra is playing a slow song, and a lot of the guests are out on the dance floor. It only takes me a minute to realize it’s a Miley Cyrus song—a very slow version of it.
I think Charlotte realizes it at the same moment that I do because her mouth drops open and her eyes gleam at me.
“Dance with me?” I ask.
She nods and I take her hand and lead her out on the dance floor. Wrapping my hands around her smooth waist, I tug her close. Kyle’s watching us closely. He’s probably starting to figure out that there’s something going on between us. Do I need to say something to him?
“This song begs the question. How’s our little Miley?”
“She’s awesome,” Charlotte murmurs, her head tilted so near me.
Everything about her draws me in. The way she looks, smells, tastes. The way she shows up in the world. Everything.
Except, my heart breaks a little as I look over and see my father and Jess. They’re not dancing anymore. They’re sitting at a table in the corner. Jess’s jaw is set, her face stone. My dad looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Are they arguing? Did something happen?
Am I going to someday cause Charlotte pain like my father has with every woman he’s been involved with?
I won’t do that. And having Charlotte in my arms reminds me of a core difference between my father and Jess, and me andCharlotte. We’re not them. Charlotte and I have known each other for well over ten years. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to hold onto her. To not take her for granted. To love her well.
With both of our futures so up in the air, I just hope I get the chance.
Chapter 30
Charlotte
Itwasalongday at work, and back at my place, Taysom’s face, from my perspective right now, is more attractive than ever. He’s cradling my head in his lap as I lie on the leather sofa, patina-ed with age. Sure, I can see up his nose. But Taysom Reed’s strong, straight nose is so nice that even this angle can’t mar his attractiveness.
“Kyle gave me a talking to after the wedding the other night,” Taysom says.
My eyes widen and then squeeze shut before I manage to speak. “He knows about us?”
Taysom chuckles. “I think it was pretty obvious.”
I open my eyes. “So, is he upset?”
“No. Just concerned about the same things we are. How our lifestyles are different and how busy football travel is.”
“I should probably talk to him.”
“We should talk, too,” Taysom gazes down at me. “About what this is.”
Gulp. “And what is this?” I want to define it, to say we’re together, but I don’t know if he’s ready for that.
He threads his fingers through my hair, staring at it, before meeting my gaze. “All I know is, when I’m around you, I feel different than I ever have. I think you’re an incredible woman, Charlotte.”
Sunlight splashes over my insides. “You’re incredible yourself. I’ve never felt like this before, Taysom. Not for anyone else.”
We’re quiet for a moment, like this is enough dissecting for now. Still, my stomach lurches as I finally open my mouth to tell him news I don’t want to say, news I cried about to Willa at work today. “So, I didn’t get that job. The one in Tulsa.”
It’s been a week since the interview and I had high hopes that they’d call me up for a second one in person, but nope.
“Are you kidding me?” His hand stills, his voice laced with disbelief.
I drop my forearm over my eyes. “They said they needed someone with more experience. I don’t blame them.”
