Charlie places his hands on his hips. His pose and his tone are both full of sass. “Problem, Brad?”
I glance at my destroyed food, willing my body to cooperate. “Nope.” As I stand, I slowly turn away from the table.
“Jesus, Grandpa. Don’t break anything.” Charlie sounds exasperated. “I’ll meet you in the study.”
I’m not sure which is worse. Charlie thinking I can barely get up because of my age, or the truth: I’m trying not to flash my boner situation to his parents and my sister. But it gets easier once he’s out of the room.
He’s angry with me. But why? I excuse myself but only make it as far as the living room before someone grabs my arm.
My sister shoots a glance at the hallway leading to the study and then the kitchen. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
“Charlie’s waiting for me.”
“Yeah. I was there. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Did she notice something? My sister is fairly astute.
I take a deep breath, trying not to panic. “Okay, but hurry.”
She nods like she’s building up to it. “Charlie’s a nice guy.”
Another deep breath. “He is.”
“I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”
Oh God. The breaths are no longer working. “Harper?—”
“Hear me out. You know everyone in this town. Including a lot of guys. Guys who might be interested in Charlie.”
What the hell? “That’s not— I’m not setting Charlie up with anyone. Not happening”
She waves her hand. “Just help him find a nice guy. Someone who won’t hurt him.” I stare at her, and she huffs. “Charlie deserves to be happy. And if he’s happy, he won’t leave again.”
My frustration fades. Harper is still trying to atone for something that happened over twenty years ago. “That wasn’t your fault?—”
She shakes her head rapidly as if I’m breaking the rules by even mentioning it. And maybe I am. But the rules are old and might need to be broken. “Harper?—”
Charlie stomps into the room. “Brad. Come on. I don’t have all day.”
I give Harper a helpless look and follow Charlie to the study. The room is a cross between a library and a craft room. I move toward the couch, maneuvering around baskets of yarn. Charlie steps in my path.
“I want an answer right now, Brad,” he says, glaring at me with his hands on his hips. “What the hell is going on?”
I’ve never seen Charlie like this. Embarrassed? Yes. Frustrated? Sure. Full-on pissed? Eyes flashing. Poised to fight. In my face? Nope. I step back because the closer he gets, the harder it is to resist him. And I must resist him. “I’m not sure?—”
“Bullshit.”
I manage to hold in my smile. “Just trying to get clarification.”
He looks skeptical, but he takes the volume down a notch. “What does that mean?”
“Are you asking about what’s going on with us?” I cringe at that. Not that there is an us. “Is this about the other day at the restaurant? Or at your office?”
He wraps his arms around his chest, and I hate how vulnerable he looks. “All of it. I just don’t get you. And yeah, everyone else is being weird.” His eyes get huge. “Do they know about the party?”
“No.”
“About…?” He waves his hand between us.
