You're Still the One

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You're Still the One Page 12

by Rachel Harris


  Splash.

  Charlie cursed as water rained, falling like a sheet over his head. His neck snapped back, flicking his unruly dark hair out of his eyes, and his shoulders raised to meet his ears.

  Immediately, Arabella started backpedaling.

  Fans of romantic comedies, and anyone who swam with boys in high school, knew what came next. She’d awoken the sleeping bad-boy giant, or so she hoped, but somehow, even as she kicked away as hard as she could, she couldn’t excite the proper trepidation. She wanted this, wanted him to come after her.

  But she had to make the chase look realistic.

  “Oh, you think you’re funny, don’t you?” Charlie’s smile was as big and dangerous as a bloodthirsty alligator, and Ella squealed as he took his first looming step. “You better run, sweet girl. It’s on now.”

  Arabella kicked her feet, shooting water in his face. “Bring it, Tucker!”

  Please, please, bring it, Tucker.

  Charlie dove and Ella screamed, flopping forward to escape.

  One thing she hadn’t accounted for: water resistance. Running in a pool wasn’t easy, especially not when one’s attacker had the apparent wingspan of the Spruce Goose. Charlie caught up with her easily, his strong arms wrapping around her waist within seconds, lifting her high and out of the water as Ella continued to struggle even though it was futile.

  One second, cool air blew across her naked skin. The next, she was plunged back under.

  Chlorine hit her nose, and Arabella sprang back up, sputtering and laughing, before charging straight ahead. Charlie grinned as she called out threats, his eyes never once losing that challenging edge. It electrified her, made her forget all about her nakedness. Or rather, the discomfort that came with it.

  She never actually forgot they were naked.

  Bare skin brushed beneath the water. The crisp hair on Charlie’s legs and arms tickled her skin. And his eyes…his sexy, bedroom eyes…kept wandering and then bouncing away, only to do it again.

  Hers did, too.

  No, there was no forgetting their mutual nakedness and, as the laughter subsided, Ella couldn’t fight the spark of hope that maybe they’d cross off another activity, too. She wasn’t holding out for making passionate love beneath the stars, or anything—although that would make an excellent addition to her list. No, what she had her heart set on was more innocent, yet just as magical in her eyes. Experiencing a toe-curling kiss.

  Charlie exhaled raggedly, his breath heavy from exertion, and his gaze met hers across the shallow end of the pool. The thick knot in his throat bobbed, and Arabella had the inexplicable urge to nip it. To graze her teeth across the stubbled skin and then lick it, soothing the sting.

  As if reading her mind, Charlie’s eyes fell and clung to her parted lips. Her tongue darted out of its own volition, swiping her bottom lip. Encouraging him. Teasing. He swallowed again and then dipped his gaze lower to where her chest rose and fell with choppy, uneven breaths, the water sloshing across the peaks with each inhale. Other than that, she didn’t dare move.

  Ella held absolutely, perfectly still, afraid of scaring the moment away.

  And then…it happened.

  Charlie took the first step. Arabella the second. Soon they stood a mere heartbeat away from each other…the toe-curling kiss…the possibility of more.

  With her eyes, Ella urged him to close the scant distance that remained, and to take what she desperately hoped they both wanted. A battle raged in his eyes, and Charlie closed them briefly with a groan, shaking his head once before his hands shot out and closed around her arms.

  Slam.

  Ella jumped, knocking his hands away as she spun to face the gate.

  What the hell was that?

  Over the fence, a woman’s voice rose in the night. “Come on, music man, let’s get your drunk ass to bed.”

  “Not drunk,” claimed a second voice, a male voice, and Arabella clamped her arms across her naked chest. “Just had to get your sexy ass home. The things I want to do to you aren’t fit for your childhood bedroom.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s why you told my brother-in-law that musicians were hotter than firemen, and that you could out-fish him any day of the week?” The woman’s laugh floated up to the sky, along with the metallic jingle of keys. “Because my thought is that your liver’s going through a Vegas repeat, and we both know how that turned out.”

  “Yep. With you in my bed and my ring on your finger.”

  Arabella’s breaths were ragged, straining to hear in the silence that followed the man’s arrogant response, and she blushed as the unmistakable sound of muffled gasps and soft moans hit her ears.

  Charlie’s breath was hot against her neck as he whispered, “Tyler came home early.”

  “You think?” She whirled around, her arms still clasped around her naked body. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault their night was cut short or that she was so indisposed. It was her top-ten list, after all. But she was confused, embarrassed, and so dang aroused that she couldn’t help but take it out on him. “What in the heck are we supposed to do?”

  He shrugged. “Get dressed and go home, I guess.”

  The man had the audacity to wink before swimming away, cutting through the water like a steely ninja, as if the last hour of not-so-innocent brushes and flirtation hadn’t happened.

  Ella stood there, wishing she could’ve had just a few more minutes, and then followed in his wake, scampering out of the pool as quietly as she could toward her bathrobe.

  The terrycloth scrap of fabric was all she’d brought. They’d come out here tonight with one purpose and one purpose only, getting naked, so extra clothes had seemed downright silly, if not an unnecessary nuisance. Boy, was she regretting that decision now.

  Turning so that her back faced Charlie, a ridiculous nod toward modesty considering their naked romp in the pool, she tugged on the warm robe and cinched it tight. There was a weirdness in the air that she didn’t know how to fix. Her poor attitude certainly didn’t help, but the millions of questions firing in her brain short-circuited her ability to calm down.

  “Hey, Tucker!”

  Arabella’s eyes cut to Charlie, who was frozen in place.

  Tyler’s wife Sherry snickered on the other side of the fence. “I’ll see your ass here bright and early to disinfect my pool. Don’t think we didn’t see your ancient truck parked across the street. Whatever nighttime escapade you’re having, finish it up and then come by tomorrow to clean. I don’t even want to know.”

  Tyler laughed and called out, “Later, man,” before a door closed with a resounding thump. Everything was quiet after that. They were alone again, standing on the porch dripping wet with puddles collecting at their feet.

  Charlie and Ella locked eyes…and broke out in hysterical laughter.

  Chapter Twelve

  Two days later, everything hurt. Arabella’s head, her sinuses, and her throat felt like they were in mutiny. She could admit it; she devolved into a big baby whenever she got sick, which was why it was a good thing that she hardly ever got that way. Her daily vitamin regimen, her overall nutrition, and her quest for adequate rest were all part of her valiant effort in fighting the common cold.

  Unfortunately, midnight frolics apparently kicked vitamin butt.

  At the sound of the front door opening, Ella reluctantly lifted her head from where she lay in a sluggish daze on the couch. She hadn’t budged since that morning when she’d called in to Strange Wheel.

  Dark, unruly hair appeared first around the doorjamb, followed by Charlie’s concerned face, and Ella frantically ducked back beneath her blanket. The door closed again, and footsteps approached.

  “That bad, huh?”

  No, she wanted to say. That ugly.

  Half the reason she’d decided to stay home was to avoid seeing Charlie. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks were pink, and, due to her congestion, she sounded a lot like Mr. Snuffleupagus. As for her hair, well, it was a rat’s nest on her head because she’d had
no energy to brush it. Heck, he was lucky she’d brushed her teeth.

  Charlie’s hands wrapped around her ankles, lifting them as the sofa cushion dipped beneath her. He placed her feet on his lap and patted them gently. “What can I do to help?”

  From beneath the blanket, Ella replied, “Nothing. I mean, I appreciate you stopping by, I really do. But I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.”

  That was girl code for, please leave now before you see me like this.

  Evidently, Charlie didn’t speak girl code, because he tugged at her covers, then laughed when she tightened her grip. “Woman, stop being silly. I want to check on you. I brought some stuff that’s supposed to help, but to be honest, that woman could’ve sold me a bunch of crap. I’m clueless about this shit.”

  A plop came from the coffee table, followed by the crinkling of a paper bag, and she could admit she was curious as to what he’d brought…but not enough to show her puffy face.

  “That’s sweet, Charlie. Really.” She sniffled, which lead to a phlegmy, watery cough. Lovely. “But, trust me when I say that while I feel like I’m gonna die, I probably won’t. However, you seeing me like this might just do the trick. I resemble the Crypt Keeper.”

  He chuckled again, that deep rumble of a sound that revved her engine even at death’s door, and gave her blanket another gentle tug. “Arabella, you couldn’t look bad if you tried.”

  Admitting defeat, because the man was nothing if not stubborn, Ella sighed and folded down the blanket, exposing her red, sweaty face. Charlie gave her a soft smile and squeezed the top of her foot. “Gorgeous.”

  Her heart fluttered. Trying to hide how much he affected her, Arabella looked away, her gaze falling upon the impressive collection of bottles on the coffee table. A full-scale display of waterworks seemed imminent.

  “Now,” he said, leaning forward on the couch, “the woman at the natural food store suggested mixing sweet almond oil with a rotation of peppermint, lavender, lemon, and thieves on your feet.”

  Charlie gestured to each essential oil as he named them, giving her a look of utter confusion when he came to the last one. “I have no clue what this is, but I bought it anyway. Did that old chick take me for a sucker?”

  Arabella smiled, despite herself. “No, it’s good,” she murmured, still in a haze of disbelief. “Thieves helps boost the immune system.”

  It was actually a mixture of clove, lemon oil, cinnamon bark, eucalyptus, and rosemary. She had a bottle of it, and all the others, back home in Nashville. She’d found a store here in Magnolia Springs for her lavender supply, but not wanting to break the bank, she’d withheld buying her usual assortment of oils. A decision she’d regretted terribly this morning.

  Charlie nodded and palmed the small bottle. “I figured you’d know.” Then, to her supreme astonishment, he gently slid off her cotton socks, one at a time, and squeezed the sweet almond oil into his hands. After adding a few drops of the thieves, he began massaging the blend into the bottoms of her feet.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell of suppressing her moan.

  The scent was familiar and soothing. The almond oil felt like heaven on her dry feet. But it was Charlie’s reverent touch that had her reeling. As his magic fingers rubbed the four different products in succession over her heels, taking time to give special care to her arches and her toes, Ella’s heart thudded beneath her breastbone. It was so loud she was certain he could hear it.

  Charlie was there to take care of her. His massage was meant to be calming and therapeutic. Arabella had no right getting turned on by his ministrations. But she was, desperately so. Which was unfortunate, considering it made the pounding of her headache even worse.

  Charlie’s hands stilled. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and found him studying her with a concerned wrinkle between his brows. His breathing was deep, his chest rising and falling beneath his worn Led Zeppelin T-shirt.

  “Megan…the woman at the store, suggested I rub these on your chest, too.” His golden-brown eyes fell to the blanket covering the body part in question, and Arabella choked on her spit. Oh, heck no.

  If Charlie’s fingers came anywhere near her breasts, her head would literally explode. And if he thought she had a fever now…

  Stretching her toes to touch his rock-hard stomach, she smiled her gratitude but said, “I think I’m okay for now.”

  Relief washed over his features, which she wasn’t sure how to take, and Charlie smiled as he stood, settling her feet back on the sofa cushion. “Be right back.”

  On his way toward the kitchen, he grabbed the paper bag and the bottle of peppermint oil. Arabella frowned in confusion, but even that small gesture hurt her head, so she leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes.

  A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps and the scent of peppermint roused her. Charlie set a glass of water on the coffee table beside a couple of gel capsules and then draped a cool, damp washcloth over her forehead. That explained the peppermint. Ella inhaled deep, drawing the healing scent into her lungs.

  “The water has a few drops of lemon,” he told her, voice pitched low. “And the capsules are filled with it, too. Not sure if you want to take them now, or…”

  She gave him a sleepy smile. “Thank you. I actually just took some medicine, but I’ll try the capsules in a little while.” That was all she could manage before her heavy eyelids closed and she snuggled farther into her pillow, letting the peppermint work its magic on her headache.

  Everything about this was thoughtful. Charlie playing concerned nursemaid, him stopping by her favorite store and taking an interest in the natural remedies she cared so much about. “God, I wish I could’ve seen your face at Nature’s Shoppe.”

  Charlie sniffed, which she interpreted to mean the experience had been a whole new world for him. “It was definitely interesting. But, I was glad to do it. I’m the reason you’re sick. Late night skinny-dipping was my brilliant idea.”

  Ella opened her eyes to look at him, the dull thud of her headache already receding. “I admit, the ending was a bit awkward.” She sent him a wry grin that he returned. “But the rest of it? That was a blast. I’d gladly take a thousand sick days for one where I felt so…alive.”

  Even the memory had her skin tingling. Charlie held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes a storm of questions. A muscle ticked in his jaw. What she wouldn’t give to read minds if only for an hour. The man in front of her was so free with his friendship, so giving of his time and good opinion, but she knew there were things, big things, he held tight to his chest.

  Arabella longed to know how he felt about their skinny-dipping adventure. If he could still see the imprint of her body behind his eyelids, like she saw him. There was no forgetting, no running away. She knew what this incredible man looked like beneath his clothes, and even sick, it was hard not to jump into his arms.

  But would he want her there?

  So much about Charlie remained a mystery. He pushed himself so hard with Life & Lyrics, and Ella understood his desire to help teens like Abby, but she also sensed a deeper drive. Almost guilt. Call it woman’s intuition or just a really good hunch, but she had a feeling there was more to his position at Strange Wheel than he was letting on.

  She wouldn’t force him to tell her. They were friends, yes, but he had a right to his privacy. Ella just hoped that he knew he could open up to her if and when he was ever ready.

  Charlie scratched his jaw and then, clearing his throat, strolled over to her entertainment center. He thumbed through the chick flicks she had out, favorites she’d seen a million times so she could zone out all day, and picked up her angel statue. He glanced back at her.

  “It was my mother’s,” she told him, straightening the blanket over her chest. “Dad gave that to me the night of her funeral. He said that every time I missed her, I could look at my mama’s statue and know that she was up in heaven, watching out for me.”

  Ella traced the familiar lines of the statue with her gaz
e. “When I was little, I’d slip it into my bag when I went for sleepovers, and whenever a friend hurt my feelings, or a boy called me names, I’d talk to my angel.” She smiled at the memories. “And whenever I got crushes on boys? Man, did that angel get an earful.”

  So many nights, the boy she’d told her mom about was Charlie, so seeing him holding the statue in his hands was almost surreal. “She went to college with me, to my first apartment with Lana, and now, she’s here.”

  Charlie pressed his firm lips together and ran a finger over the angel’s porcelain wings. “I still have both my parents, so I don’t know what it’s like growing up without one. But I’m glad you have this. A link to help keep you and your mama close.”

  They shared a look, and Ella smiled, not really knowing what else to say, but also not feeling the need to say anything at all. Quiet was comfortable with Charlie. Then she yawned, keeping her from saying anything anyway, and he laughed softly.

  “Close your eyes and get some rest, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Arabella had no intention of accepting his offer. Despite her heavy eyelids and yawns proving otherwise, she didn’t want to sleep. She enjoyed seeing this softer side to the bad boy and wanted to spend more time with him. Also, who knew what she’d say when unconscious? According to Lana, Ella had a tendency to become quite the chatterbox while asleep.

  But, the next thing Arabella knew, the low strum of a guitar had her eyes popping open, and the elongated shadows on the floor told of time passing.

  Across from her, Charlie sat in the love seat with an acoustic propped on his lap. When he raised his eyes and found her watching, he quickly silenced the music with his palm. “Did I wake you?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No.” Gently, she pushed up to a more comfortable position and motioned toward the guitar. “I didn’t know you played.”

  The soft chords began again as he nodded. “Tyler might be the front man, but he’s not the only one who knows his way around a six-string. I played this before I ever played bass.”

 

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