He looked down, brow creased. “Do you think I like you too much? More than you like me.”
“Little do you know, I’m only pretending not to be gaga for you.”Shit. Where had that come from? “I mean, I don’t put my art on just anyone. They have to be sexy as hell.” Jean hadn’t shifted gears that roughly since her first time driving a stick—no pun intended—but Charlie didn’t call her on it.
“Jean,” he said, shaking his head.
There was the blush she loved.Liked. She liked his blush.Dammit.
Jean’s Rules of Poker, for Charlie:
-Listen to Jean.
-Unless she asks to see your cards. That is a trick!
-A “pocket pair” has nothing to do with your “nuts.”
-Try not to say “shoot” every time you draw.
-When I say “runner runner,” we have to race to the bedroom.
-Pants are always optional.
Chapter 6
“I can’t help noticing you’re still here,” Jean said a few nights later.
Her cheek was resting against Charlie’s chest, nestled in like a woodland creature in a bed of moss. It was better than any weighted blanket. He had never realized how intoxicating it would be to have someone trust him this much. Probably because no one else had ever thought of him as a soft place to land.
When he didn’t respond beyond a contentedhmmm,she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “That was your cue to tell me how much time is left on the clock.”
Charlie threaded a strand of her hair through his fingers, feeling the silky glide. Everything about Jean was a treat for his senses. Well, maybe not the knuckle she was poking against his rib cage. That tickled.
“I don’t want to leave.” It was the most honest answer he could give.
“But that’s not how life works. Especially for someone like you.”
“What do you mean, someone like me?” He felt a flare of panic. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide things from her; he just couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at him differently. He wanted to stay the Charlie she knew. The real him. Her Charlie.
“Just passing through,” she said, and he remembered to breathe. “Look what happened to my poor best friend.”
“Libby?” Charlie was showing off a little, but only because he liked knowing things about Jean’s life. And unlike some people, Jean appreciated his ability to recall random facts.
“Yeah.” Jean laid her head back down on his chest. “She met someone andkablam,he broke her heart. Total shitshow.”
“I thought you said she was disgustingly happy with her new boyfriend, and they were going at it like rabid giraffes?” Charlie had a stomach-churning vision of Jean finding someone lively and fun the second he was out of the picture. His hand came to rest on the back of her head, reassuring himself she was here now.
“It’s the same guy. But for a while she thought he was gone forever.”
“You mean… dead?”
“Back to the mainland,” Jean corrected, putting an end to the tragic surfing accident Charlie was imagining.
“But then he came back,” he prompted.
Jean sniffed like that was a minor detail.
“So the story has a happy ending.”
“If you say so.”
