“I want to kiss you.” His thumb pressed against her bottom lip. “I’ve been dying to, ever since you got here. It’s all I can think about.”
Her heart banged against the inside of her rib cage like it was trying to stage a jail break. “Fine. If you insist.” Closing her eyes, she puckered her lips like a cartoon character.
Charlie trembled as their mouths met. Jean forced herself to lie there like a mannequin, stiff and unresponsive.
Undaunted, he pressed glancing kisses to one corner of her lips and then the other, while his knuckles brushed the underside of her chin.
“Jean,” he sighed against her mouth, all heat and relief and desperate longing.
“Maybe.”
The brattiness backfired when Charlie took advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. A sound that was part groan and part laughter rumbled in his throat.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered, barely lifting his mouth from hers.
She kissed him again to keep from saying it back.
The next time her brain came online, Charlie was flinging back the sheet. Daylight poured across the bed, illuminating a compromising position: Jean’s shoulder blades flat against the mattress while Charlie braced on his elbows to keep his full weight from crushing her.
There was a sudden stillness as they hovered on the brink of this do-it-or-die moment. Jean read the question in Charlie’s eyes, right above his goopy smile.
“So how do you see this playing out?” She tried to sound serious and unaffected, even though her breathing was shallow.
He blinked several times, adjusting to the shift in tone. “I was hoping you would let me make love to you. If that was something you wanted.”
Jean narrowed her eyes. “And then?”
“We could cuddle?”
“What about after that?”
Charlie looked increasingly uncertain. “Snacks? Or we could play cards—”
“Wrong answer,” she grunted, shoving him aside.
“Wait. Don’t leave!” He reached for her, but she was already up and moving.
“Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it? I’m not even going to explain what you did wrong. I’ll just take off. That’s your game, isn’t it? Love ’em and leave ’em. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.” Because Charlie had made it abundantly clear he didn’t see a future with her. A quickie in his childhood bedroom was all she was good for.
“But Jean,” Charlie said, all earnest confusion, “why did you tell them where I was if you didn’t want me to leave? I couldn’t stay after that.”
“I didn’t tell anyone, Charlie.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “You could do a lot worse than that to me and I’d still forgive you.”
“First of all, no one issettlingfor me like I’m damaged goods. ‘Oh well, she’s kind of an asshole, but I’ll make do.’ And second!” She fished her bra from beneath a pillow, shaking it at him for emphasis. “How could I tell someonewhereyou were when I didn’t even knowwhoyou were?”
He looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest.”
Jean waited for him to justify his behavior, but Charlie had come to a full stop. It was a real apology.
“You could have stuck around and asked me to my face,” she said. “At least given me that chance.”
“You’re right. And I’m so sorry about your job, Jean. I didn’t mean to mess up your life.”
She considered telling him the job was the least painful thing she’d lost that night but didn’t want to fold while she had the upper hand. “I’m a strong independent woman. I’ll figure it out.”
“But you could be a strong independent woman with friends.”
