“Mama, I really wish you’d sit down and rest for a minute,” Charlotte said that Saturday, six mornings after her mother’s trip to the hospital. “You had a heart issue this week. You are not twenty years old anymore. Stop acting like Wonder Woman.”
“Hush up, girl,” Mama snapped, continuing with her mixing and not bothering to look at Charlotte. “I’m working on these cupcakes with Harry. You worry about your own self.”
Harry slapped his hands over his mouth and giggled. “Grammy told you to hush up, Mommy! That’s funny!”
Rolling her eyes at this scene of domestic bliss in her kitchen, Charlotte turned back to her books and wished she could toss them all in the garbage. She was ensconced in her usual place at the kitchen table, trying to get some reading done for class tomorrow. The reading would go a whole lot faster if she wasn’t mad at the world and didn’t see Jake’s face everywhere she looked. After about an hour of flipping through pages, all she’d accomplished was...nothing. The man had her brain in a choke hold, her heart in a sling and her gut tied up in knots.
She was, in other words, a pathetic mess.
“I want to lick the icing!” Harry said.
“In a minute,” Mama replied. “I’m not finished with it.”
“Don’t use it all up!”
Mama laughed. “I’ll save you some.”
Charlotte put her elbows on the table and rested her tired head on her hands. After a minute of this, she rubbed her face, hard, wishing she could wipe away her features and start clean. When keeping herself upright became too much effort, she slid her arms out of the way and slumped across her books, lapsing into a Jake-induced stupor.
“What’s wrong with Mommy?” Harry asked in a stage whisper.
“Oh, she’s just a little lovesick,” Mama said reassuringly. Charlotte had made the tragic mistake of confiding in her earlier, before Harry woke up. “She’ll be okay.”
Lovesick.
Love.
Yeah, Charlotte thought, ignoring the way the spirals in her notebook cut across her cheek, that about covered it.
She’d fallen in love with her boss, the player.
Brilliant move, girl.
It was true, though. Who wouldn’t love him?
No other man was as [INSERT ONE] as Jake:
Smart.
Sexy.
Funny.
Handsome.
Thoughtful.
Caring.
And did she mention sexy? As in, her body was still humming from the sheer joy of making love with him?
She’d taken several days off to be with Mama following her health scare, which meant she hadn’t seen Jake. Nor had she taken his phone calls or answered his texts. The result was that she missed him the way she’d miss her heart if it stopped beating. Even so, as much as she wanted to throw herself into his arms again and try to see if they could make a relationship work, she didn’t see how they could get there from here.
She was a mother with a young son to raise and protect, and no time for drama.
A man like Jake knew nothing about committed relationships and was a magnet for women.
Ergo, drama. So what the hell was she going to do?
There was a knock on the door.
“Someone’s here, Mommy!”
Charlotte lay where she was, too emotionally wrung out to move.
Several beats went by. The person knocked again.
“Why don’t I get that?” Mama muttered drily, marching out from the kitchen and tapping Charlotte upside the head as she passed the table. “I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”
Charlotte ignored the abuse and the snarky comment.
The door opened.
“Hello,” sang a female voice.
Charlotte popped up, her pulse thundering. She knew that voice!
“I’m Jeanette Hamilton. You must be Charlotte’s mother. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Mama replied, sounding nonplussed. “Come in.”
Oh, God.
Charlotte leaped to her feet, wishing she’d bothered to shower today and change into something other than the old tank top and shorts she’d slept in last night, because what if she smelled? This led to wishing that she’d also combed her hair, dabbed on some lip gloss and run the vacuum.
See? That was what lovesickness did to a person—made them into a depressed slob. Could hoarding be far behind?
Mrs. Hamilton sailed into view from the foyer, slinging a quilted black Chanel bag that probably cost Charlotte’s monthly salary and looking as though she’d just stepped out of the pages of Town & Country. Even though she was dressed in fresh tennis whites, her hair and makeup were done, which meant either that she never went out in public without being fully put together, or her body didn’t dare sweat.
Charlotte was betting on the latter.
“Hello, Mrs. Hamilton,” she said, swiping a hand through her hair. “How are you?”
“Good Lord, you’re a disaster.” Mrs. Hamilton’s gaze swept up and down her with open dismay. “I’m not sure who looks worse, you or Jake. Probably you. You look like a Depression-era street urchin.”
Charlotte blinked, certain she was hallucinating. “Welcome to my home.”
Harry, who was sporting a huge smudge of chocolate cupcake batter across his mouth and jaw, crept out of the kitchen and over to Charlotte’s side, eyes wide.
Mrs. Hamilton bent at the waist and stared into his little face. “You must be the toddler in question,” she told him.
“I’m Harry,” he said, taking Charlotte’s hand and hiding behind her leg.
“Harry, I’m Mrs. Hamilton,” the woman said, extending her hand. “Shake.”
Harry hesitantly stuck out his hand.
“Harry, your handshake is very limp,” Mrs. Hamilton pronounced. “I want you to work on that.”
“I’m only two,” Harry said. “And a half.”
“That’s no excuse. What’s on your face?”
“Icing.”
Mrs. Hamilton straightened and looked into the kitchen before installing herself on the sofa and crossing her toned legs. “Are those cupcakes? I’d love one. Maybe with a glass of milk, but only if you have whole milk. None of that skim almond soy nonsense for me. Harry, you’d better go wash your face.”
Charlotte and her mother gaped at Mrs. Hamilton before Mama recovered enough to hurry into the kitchen.
Harry, muttering darkly, headed for the powder room.
“But I can’t stay for long,” Mrs. Hamilton continued. “I just came to tell Charlotte a couple things about Jake.”
Charlotte, now feeling numb, sat in the nearest armchair. “What is it?”
“You’re making him sick, dear. Do you understand that?”
Charlotte shook her head automatically. “I don’t—”
“He’s a fine man and he’s crazy in love with you. Do you want to throw all that away?”
Deep inside her chest, Charlotte’s heart started to thud with a wild hope. “I’m not sure—”
“You’re worried because he’s been with lots of women.” She glanced up at Charlotte’s mother who handed her a plate and a glass. “Thank you, dear. This is whole milk, right? Oh, and I was hoping for a few more sprinkles on my cupcake. And a fork, too, please. I don’t want to get chocolate smudges on the whites before my lesson.”
Mama, looking dazed, took the cupcake back into the kitchen.
Mrs. Hamilton turned back to Charlotte. “Guess how many women Jake has brought home to Integrity. Go on. Guess.”
“Three thousand?”
“None!”
“None,” Charlotte said with disbelief.
“None,” Mrs. Hamilton said flatly.
“None?�
�
“Is there an echo in here? Yes, Charlotte. None. So as soon as he brought you to the photo shoot and I saw the way he looked at you, I knew something serious was going on.”
Charlotte tried to process this stunning revelation.
“He’s committed to being a positive force in your boy’s life. He’s crazy about Harry. For goodness’ sake, he built a nursery at the office because you needed one.”
Charlotte struggled to regulate her breathing, willing this to be true.
“You’re not after his money, are you, dear?”
“What? No!”
“Well, do you love him or not? Either you know or you don’t.”
“I—”
Charlotte could barely admit it to herself, much less say it aloud under Mrs. Hamilton’s eagle-eyed gaze. But there was no way to stop her face from going up in flames.
“Are you going to let this chance pass you by just because Jake went through a couple of women before he met you?”
“No,” Charlotte said, even though the idea of facing Jake—of trusting him with her heart—nearly made her hyperventilate.
“Well,” Mrs. Hamilton said, nodding with satisfaction. “I think I have my answer, don’t I? The only question now is, what are you going to do about it?” The business portion of her visit apparently concluded, she twisted at the waist and peered into the kitchen to check on the progress of her cupcake. “How are you coming with my sprinkles, dear?”
* * *
Jake knocked on Charlotte’s door at eight-thirty that night.
His hands were shaking.
His mother’s pep talk earlier in the day had given him enough courage to galvanize him into action, but not enough, unfortunately, to make what he was about to do any easier.
What had he told Charlotte his motto was? Go big or go home? Well, he was either about to win the gold medal in life or go down in flames.
There was no middle ground that he could see.
He hated to knock again, not wanting to wake Harry, but he had no choice—
His cell phone rang in his pocket, startling him.
Then the door swung open, revealing Charlotte, with her phone pressed to her ear.
“Hey,” she breathed, eyes widening with surprise. “I was just calling you.”
Jake stared at her, trying to decide whether this was good news and hoping another ounce of courage would kick in soon. He was unspeakably grateful to see her again and felt as though he could get air all the way into his lungs for the first time in years. But she looked terrible in her shorts and T-shirt, with dark-smudged eyes and a haggard look to her cheeks that were in stark contrast to the sensual smiles she’d given him the other night when they had made love.
She hung up, lowering the phone. “What’re you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course,” she said quickly, stepping aside to let him pass. “Sorry.”
He took a few steps toward the sofa and then decided, screw it.
He’d had a whole scenario worked out. He’d talk calmly and logically to her. He’d argue his case. He’d drop to one knee.
All of that went out the window as he turned to face her.
“Charlotte—”
“Jake—”
Was she about to give him a final kick to the curb? What if he didn’t give her the chance?
“I have to say this,” he said quickly, and she closed her mouth again. “Please.”
She nodded and stilled, waiting.
Great. He had the floor. Now what?
He scrubbed a hand over his nape and wrestled his thoughts into submission.
“I’m a logical guy, Charlotte.” He took a gulp of air and paused to clear some of the frogs from his throat. “I analyze things. I think them through. I make plans and strategies.”
She nodded again.
“So I can’t explain what happened to me when I looked into your face at Starbucks. I don’t have any reference points for it. All I know is that, since then, every thought I’ve had has been about you. Everything I’ve done has been for you. The promotion. The nursery at work. The toys at the barbecue. Every single time my heart has beat since then, it’s been for you.”
“Jake,” she began, tears shimmering in her eyes.
He held up a hand to stop her. “Let me finish.”
She pressed a hand between her breasts and made a sound that was equal parts laugh and sob. “I’m not sure I can take any more.”
Wait...that was good, right?
He kept going because he was afraid he’d lose momentum if he stopped to find out.
“Do I have a long history with women? Yes. Do I have practice with love? No. Am I a good risk on paper?” He shrugged, raising his hands in a helpless gesture. “Probably not.”
Something that looked like fear widened her eyes. “Are you dumping me?”
As if.
“I’m telling you,” he said, taking a step closer, “that if you take a chance on me, I will love and protect you and Harry the way no one ever has before or ever will.”
“Oh, my God,” she said, openly crying now with a hand covering her mouth.
So...yeah. That was all he had.
“I’m going to go now.” He moved toward the door. “I know you need time to think about—”
She recovered quickly, lowering her hand and blessing him with a smile so joyous and vibrant it was as though he’d discovered sunshine after a lifetime of cave dwelling.
“I don’t need to think about anything.” She put a hand on his arm, freezing him in place. “You were right. I was scared.”
“I— What?” he asked, hoping she’d repeat it because he was afraid to trust his ears.
“I’m so in love with you,” she said ruefully, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t even see straight.”
He couldn’t speak, not with his heart swelling out of his chest and into his throat.
“Please don’t break my heart.” Charlotte stepped forward into his waiting arms. “I’m trusting you.”
With a choked cry of relief, he swept her up to her tiptoes and tight against his chest, nuzzling his lips into the tender curve where her neck met her shoulder. The scent of her—freshly clean, with a hint of flowers—shot straight to his head in an intoxicating wave, and he clung to her.
Charlotte. His woman. His life.
“Is it too soon to ask you to marry me?” he wondered.
“Absolutely not.”
“Good. Because my mother gave me my grandmother’s engagement ring to give to you, and it’s burning a hole in my pocket.”
With that, he dropped to one knee, pulled out the black velvet box and opened it.
“Wait, now?” she cried, clapping her hands over her mouth.
“I can’t wait.” The confession choked him up a little, but if there was ever a time for absolute honesty in his life, this was it. Clearing his throat and blinking back the burn in his eyes, he continued. “Ever since I saw you in Starbucks, I couldn’t wait—to see you again. To hear you laugh. To make love with you.” He paused, emotion getting the best of him. “To start our life together. So I’m really hoping you’ll marry me.”
Eyes glittering with tears, she lowered her hands and nodded. “Yes. Yes. Yes!”
He surged to his feet, catching her as she flung herself at him, and they swayed together, laughing and kissing until he finally pried her left hand loose and worked the ring onto her finger.
It was a perfect fit.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped, examining it from every angle. “It’s art deco. Platinum. It’s gorgeous.”
He supposed. The details of the ring didn’t interest him much, as long as Charlotte was wearing it, but his mother had told him it was a flawles
s three-carat diamond. And Charlotte was happy, which was all that mattered to him.
“You’re gorgeous.” He leaned in for another kiss, but stopped when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw Harry hiding in the hall. “Hey, buddy. What’re you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
Belatedly realizing that he was pretty much mauling the boy’s mother right in front of him, Jake let Charlotte go and watched as Harry crept around the corner. He had on some short blue pajamas and carried Jeremy the doll pressed to his chest.
The boy’s eyes were wide and curious, his steps cautious. “Jake,” he said, pulling his thumb out of his mouth, “do you know how to get rid of monsters?”
Jake had been fearing some sort of birds and bees question about why he was kissing Mommy, or some such, but this was just as tricky. Reaching out, he grabbed Charlotte’s hand, and she gave him a supportive squeeze.
“Uh, monsters? I’m not sure, but I can try.”
“They’re under my bed,” Harry informed him solemnly.
“Well, let’s, uh, take a look.” It was too soon to drop the whole engagement thing on the little guy, he knew, but he did feel like he needed some sort of permission. It was only fair to get Harry’s input, right? His life was about to change, too. “Hey, uh, Harry? Do you mind if I spend some more time here with you and your mommy? And you guys spend more time at my house? Do you think that would be okay?”
Harry tipped his head, considering. “Can I feed your shark?”
“That can be arranged,” Jake said, matching his serious tone.
Harry shrugged. “Okay.” He raised his hands to Jake. “Up.”
Jake shot a quick glance at Charlotte, who smiled and nodded encouragingly.
And Jake, who’d never suspected that his promise to protect these two would be tested quite so soon, scooped up Harry and settled him on one side, pulled Charlotte close on the other and walked down the hall to Harry’s bedroom, ready to handle any monsters that threatened his new family.
* * * * *
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Case for Seduction (Kimani Romance) Page 16