He shakes his head. “I’m being ridiculous.”
Once he starts eating, he seems fine. We don’t talk much as we focus on our lunch. Unfortunately, word travels fast in small towns, and it’s not long before we get visitors.
“Charlie, my boy. So good to see you. You look well. How’s your mama?”
I roll my eyes at Jed from the lumber yard. He damn well knows how Minni is since he’s on the city council.
“She’s fine. How’s Sara?” Charlie asks with a smile.
I want to yell at Jed to go away. But since I can’t do that, I watch Charlie as he chats with him and every other person who stops by to see how Charlie’s doing. He greets them all with a friendly smile and warmth in his voice. From the town librarian to Mrs. Still, Charlie’s third-grade teacher. Each person ends their visit with a similar message. “I hope you’re sticking around this time.”
He smiles and nods, but the slight strain around his eyes gives him away. Do they even realize they’re smothering him?
“Sorry. We should have met somewhere else.” There’s a lull in visitors, but that doesn’t stop the lunch crowd from sneaking glances at Charlie.
“It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “It’s really not. People need to mind their own business. I swear, I’m going to grab the next person to stop by and…” I wave my hand, losing steam as I realize how I sound right now.
“What are you going to do, Coach? Wrestle them to the ground?” There’s a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth, and I get lost in thoughts of kissing him there. Charlie coughs, and it brings me back.
Would I wrestle the townsfolk for Charlie? “Maybe. You think I won’t?”
The amusement in his face fades, and he leans closer. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
“I’m not?—”
“You are. And it needs to stop.”
He’s right. And I have to be okay with that. This need to protect Charlie isn’t new. It’s a feeling I share with the majority of Dixon Hills. After what happened to Charlie when he was a kid, who can blame us?
But that’s no excuse. Charlie doesn’t need our protection. He can take care of himself.
I just need to convince my brain of that fact. And judging by the way Charlie’s glaring at me, I need to figure this out pretty damn quick.
5
CHARLIE
Brad nods,but he looks like a kicked puppy. Am I that pathetic that I need protection from the overly involved people of this town? Of farmers and librarians? I especially don’t need Brad handling things for me like I’m some Victorian maiden.
And no, I will not be thinking about Brad handling me.Then maybe stop staring at his hands, Charlie.
But I can’t look away as Brad taps his fingers on the table. He has nice hands. Blunt nails. Strong fingers. “I know you’re an adult. A capable adult,” he adds. “I swear I’m trying.”
I force myself to meet his gaze. “That’s not good enough. We’ll be on-site on Tuesday. And I can’t have you undermining me.”
“I would never do that.”
I lean back and cross my arms. “Really.”
“That’s not my intention?—”
“Coming to my rescue suggests I need rescuing, Brad.” I take a drink of my water to calm down. “I’d like to change the preconceived notions people have about me…” I press my lips together to hold in the rest of my words. No sense in mentioningthe orange-soda incident or the video. “Not reinforce them because I need my dad’s best friend to save me.”
His forehead creases, and I glance away, staring instead at the picture of Charles Dixon on the far wall. I raise my chin. When I get emotional, I cry. And I hate it.
Grow up, Charlie.
