“The two of you will be neighbors.” Justin patted Charlie on the back when she started to cough.
Glebe Point Realty, the building connected to hers. He’d told her he was in real estate, but there were lots of realtors, and she hadn’t really thought much about Barone since they’d met…well, the thought of him might have surfaced a time or two, but she hadn’t dwelled on him.
It shouldn’t be a surprise they’d both been caught off guard. They hadn’t spent any time talking about themselves that night; she wasn’t much into self-disclosure lately, and he just hadn’t been that interested.
Cooper didn’t look any happier about being neighbors than she, and she wondered what it was that set them at such odds with each other. If they were going to be working in adjoining buildings, though, then she needed to get over whatever it was about him that set her on edge.
She’d be the new kid on the block, and starting off by alienating one of her neighbors wasn’t going to help her business. She would need all the support and referrals she could get if she was going to have any chance of success.
“I guess that explains your interest,” Charlie said in an attempt to smooth over some of her attitude. “Obviously, I didn’t make the connection between you and the realty company next door, either.”
Cooper looked her over as if reevaluating, and rolled his jaw. “Seems we were both caught unawares.”
Charlie started past him. “Seems so. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to start priming these walls, or I’ll be here until midnight.”
COOPER STUFFED another bite of ziti into his mouth and scowled. How had he not realized Charlie was Justin and Blake’s cousin? Even without knowing her last name, he should have seen the family resemblance.
He liked the Morrison brothers; they were all friends. He went out with Blake on his boat occasionally to fish for rockfish, and he’d been to both of their homes several times over the last two years for parties or cookouts. He and Justin served together on their Chamber of Commerce board, and they often met for lunch at Mosey’s during the week.
Now that he knew, he couldn’t believe he’d been so oblivious. Charlie was a female version of her cousins, right down to her curly black hair and amber-colored eyes…although on her they reminded him more of rich, warm honey.
He picked up the glass of water Molly, his waitress, had just refilled and took a slug. Her family traits seemed much more appealing to him on her than they ever had on her male counterparts. He’d fought the attraction when they first met, and fought it harder when he’d seen her this afternoon. He liked uncomplicated, low maintenance, easygoing, and Charlie Morrison didn’t feel like any of those.
It probably helped that she didn’t seem to like him much. He wasn’t sure why; he generally got along well with women. He loved women, everything about them—the way they walked, the way they smelled, how they felt under his hands.
He stabbed another piece of ziti with his fork. He wanted to get his hands on Charlie. There! He admitted it! It was ridiculous. This afternoon she’d been standing there in a pair of overalls that hung on her like a potato sack, but when she’d pushed that cap back and looked up at him, he’d felt as if he’d been zapped with an electric probe. It had only taken one look into her lose-yourself-in eyes to make his nerves tingle and his fingers itch to be on her skin.
She was too thin. He usually liked his women with a few more curves. But that face—flawless porcelain skin, exotic, golden eyes fringed by the thickest eyelashes he’d ever seen, and full, bowed lips that tipped up just a bit at the corners, as if they concealed a delicious secret. Yeah, her face was something else. It could haunt a man. He knew—it had pushed its way into his thoughts way too many times since they’d met.
It wasn’t just her mouth that looked like it held secrets. So did her eyes, but he sensed they weren’t the tempting, delicious ones her winged lips did. Something in the way she would look away, evade, close the shutters if one tried to look too close, told him they were darker, more disturbing—secrets she kept hidden in the shadows, locked away for no one to see, no one to know. He had no room at this stage of his life for a woman with secrets. Secrets meant complications. He’d dealt with too many of both with his mother.
No, she wasn’t his type, despite his body’s reaction both times they’d met. He frowned, remembering that his aunt’s friend Mary had invited them both for dinner again Sunday night. No doubt the two were scheming up another matchmaking attempt.
He’d have to come up with a believable excuse and beg off so he wouldn’t have to spend the evening sitting across the table from Charlie, an evening trying not to be sucked in by her stunning face, telling himself she didn’t intrigue him, and that he had no interest in taking her to bed.
Now she was going to be opening a shop right next door to his office. It would make avoiding her damn near impossible.
“Hey Coop, is anyone else joining you or would you like some company?”
Cooper glanced up from his musings into a pair of eyes that reminded him too much of the woman he didn’t want to think about.
“Be my guest.” He reached for the newspaper he’d put on the other side of the table as Blake Morrison slid into the booth. Cooper had a tough time telling him and his brother apart, but as this one was wearing jeans and a work shirt, it took the guessing out of which twin he was dealing with. “What are you doing in town tonight?”
“I need to take some more measurements for the kitchen countertops we’re going to put in the new building. I just got off another job and wanted to grab a bite before I went down, though.”
“I stopped in there earlier this afternoon and talked to Justin for a few minutes,” Cooper told him. “The drywall looks good. I was surprised how much bigger and brighter the space seemed with everything gone.”
Blake nodded and signaled to Molly. “Smithy hadn’t done anything in there for years. All that dark paneling on the wall, with the heavy wooden booths and old paint didn’t help. The building was in good shape, though, and aside from a little demo most of the work was cosmetic.”
“What can I get for you, handsome?” Molly stopped by their booth and cocked a hip, pen in hand.
“That pasta looks good,” Blake said, pointing across the table to Cooper’s meal. “Just throw on a little extra garlic bread, sugar.”
“You got it, doll face.” Molly scribbled a note on her pad, tucked her pencil over her ear, and grabbed a water pitcher from the counter to refill Cooper’s glass. “You want water or a beer?” she asked, looking at Blake.
“Just water. Delaney’s got me watching my figure.” He flashed a grin and she rolled her eyes as she turned to walk away.
“Bring a couple more place settings when you get a chance, Mol,” Blake called after her.
Cooper leaned back in the booth and picked up his water. “I haven’t seen Delaney and the kids for a while. Are they going to be joining us?”
“No.” Blake shook his head and looked around the diner. “My cousin’s been down at the building painting all afternoon. I told her to take a break and meet me here for some dinner, and we’d go back down afterward so I could take the measurements. She’s the one who’ll be opening the shop next to your office. Her name’s Charlene, but we all call her Charlie, so I’m glad I ran into you; you’ll get a chance to meet her.”
Cooper thought about wolfing down the rest of his meal and coming up with an excuse so he could make a quick exit before Blake’s cousin arrived. “I might have to take a—” A shadow fell over their table and he glanced up. Too late, she was already there.
Charlie adjusted the ladder for what seemed like the hundredth time and made sure the paint tray was secure before climbing up the rungs again. She’d already had one accident that morning when she’d set it on the ladder rest without hooking it securely enough. It hadn’t been pretty, and she’d lost about a half hour cleaning up the mess from the floors and the interior of the front door.
As she mounted the ladder
, she caught sight of her blue overalls. Splatters and large splotches of paint and primer now relegated them to the painting-only category of her wardrobe. Picking up a small, angled brush, she dipped it into the paint tray and continued to cut in around the crown molding that she’d finished painting the night before. She’d already gotten one coat of paint on the other three walls, and after she finished this one, she’d take a break for lunch before starting the second go-around.
After hours of pouring over paint color cards, and testing a dozen samples on the walls to see what they looked like in different lighting, she ended up going with the one she’d zeroed in on in the first five minutes of her trip to Home Depot.
She drew the brush along under the molding. Luxuriously pale, the soft, creamy yellow would be the perfect backdrop for everything else she had planned. She’d chosen well.
She made quick work of the edges, and as the front wall was one of the two short ones, it took her less than thirty minutes to fill it in with the roller. Once done, she wrapped the brush and roller in plastic to keep them from drying out and then went back to the kitchen to get some lunch.
Now that the utilities had all been turned back on and the appliances reconnected, she was able to keep a few things in the refrigerator: bread, lunchmeat, some fruit, and cold drinks. It saved her the time of having to go pick something up whenever she got hungry.
Taking three slices of the roasted turkey she’d bought at Speckles the day before, Charlie stacked them on some hearty grain bread with a little lettuce, two slices of tomato from Mary’s garden, and then slathered mayo on the lid before cutting it into quarters and arranging them on a paper plate. She broke off a stem of grapes from the bunch she had in the fridge and then took her meal out to the front room.
There were a couple of folding metal chairs on the floor by the bathroom. Blake had brought them over at some point so she’d have something to sit on when she was there working and needed to take a break.
Charlie set one up in front of the doorway leading to the kitchen and then sat down to have her lunch. From there, she had a good view of the freshly painted room. She took a bite of her sandwich and surveyed her work in quiet.
It looked good. The walls were now a dreamy whipped-butter color, one of the main ingredients in her buttercream frosting. Pure white crown molding complemented it to perfection, like whipped sweet cream gracing one of her confections. She popped a grape into her mouth and smiled lightly at the comparisons.
Everything was coming together. It still seemed like a dream sometimes, that she was going into business for herself doing something she loved. None of it would have been possible without the help of her family. They had no idea how much making this work, being in control of her life, feeling free, meant to her. As soon as she was able, she’d pay them back for everything.
She was good at saving. She’d never needed a lot to make her happy, not material belongings. Sure, she enjoyed things as much as the next person, but she didn’t need them. So once she started making some money, a portion would go into an account every month to pay her cousins back.
She took another bite of her sandwich. God this is good. She took another bite, savored the flavors, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of eating real food again.
In retrospect, she could hardly believe she’d practically starved herself to try to please a man who had never even loved her.
Philip had been such a mistake. Mistake! God! He’d almost destroyed her!
But you didn’t let him…No, she hadn’t, not in the end, and she considered herself one of the lucky ones. She’d broken the cycle, gotten away before he could turn her into nothing more than a puppet, reacting to whatever string he pulled, whatever button he pushed.
She didn’t like admitting she’d been a victim. She was smart. Smart people didn’t become victims. Smart people didn’t stay in relationships where they felt trapped, worthless, and afraid—but she had. She’d felt so much shame for letting it happen, but the shame had been like another anchor, keeping her chained to him.
Now that she was free of his influence she could see how it happened—how he’d built her up, made her feel so beautiful, so special, and once she was caught, slowly chipped away at her, planted doubts, spun his silken web until she felt trapped with no way out. He’d tried to change her into his image of the perfect woman when all she’d ever wanted was to be appreciated for herself.
She knew now that trying to make yourself into something, someone you aren’t, is like running on a treadmill to get to the other side of the street, because no matter how hard or fast you run, you never make it. You just keep running in place, destined to fail unless you find the strength to get off, put your feet on solid ground, and take that first step in the direction you need to go. And then you walk, no matter how shaky your legs might feel, no matter how weak and depleted, no matter how afraid, you walk away—and in the end, that’s what she’d done, and it had been her salvation.
Charlie swallowed back the shadows. She wouldn’t dwell on her mistake; she had too much to do, too much to look forward to, and it was time to get back to work.
Brushing off her hands, she stood and went to get the paint and ladder so she could bring it all to the back of the room and start on the second coat. She saw a couple walking by outside in front of the large bay windows where she planned to set up displays and recognized one of them to be Cooper Barone. He tilted his head back and glanced inside as they walked past the door.
Charlie took another, closer look at the woman. Krista? She smiled broadly and dashed across the room. Pulling open the front door, she ran outside into the early afternoon sunshine and planted herself in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Krista Riley! Is that you?”
The woman spun on her heels and looked at Charlie for a moment.
“Charlie!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around her. “Oh my God, when did you get back in town? How long are you here for? We have to get together!”
Charlie laughed, squeezing her back. “I’m back for good. I’m going to be opening a store in town.” She glanced at the building and extended her hand. “In fact, you’re looking at it.”
“The cupcake shop, that’s you? I was so excited when Cooper mentioned someone bought the building and was opening a cupcake store right next door. That’s so cool!”
“Do you work with him?” Charlie spared a glance for Cooper.
Krista nodded, her wispy blond hair falling around her heart-shaped face. “Yup! I got my real estate license a couple of years ago.”
“Didn’t see that coming,” Charlie admitted with a grin. “And look at you, all businesslike in a tailored skirt and button down blouse—and heels! I never thought I’d see the day when you put on a pair of high heels.”
“I know, times change for sure. And I’m married, with two kids under three.”
“Anyone I know?”
Krista shook her head. “We met in college. Lucky for me, he fell in love with Glebe Point the first time he came to visit my family or it never would have worked out. I never would have been able to move away like you did; I wasn’t as adventurous. But now that you’re back, you have to come over for dinner so you can meet Bill. You’ll like him.”
Krista took hold of Charlie’s hands. “And look at you.”
Charlie glanced down at the bib overalls she’d worn whenever she came to work on the store. “Yeah, look at me, a walking advertisement for paint samples.”
Cooper reached out and brushed his thumb along Charlie’s jawbone. She stepped backward immediately, startled by the unexpected touch, and more, the jolt of desire that shot through her when the pad of his thumb slid across her skin.
“You got some on your face.” He held it up for her inspection then took a tissue out of his pocket and wiped the paint off his thumb.
What the hell had just happened? She didn’t want Cooper Barone, not that there was anything wrong with him, she just didn’t want him, or any other man. No, she ha
d instituted a moratorium against them!
“I’ve got to get back to work,” she mumbled, averting her eyes from Cooper’s and feeling more off balance than she liked. “I want to get a second coat on everything before I leave today.” She angled toward Krista. “It’s been great seeing you again.”
“Same here. If you’re going to be here tomorrow, maybe we can get together for lunch,” Krista suggested.
“I’ll be here. I’ll bring a change of clothes, and we can go to Mosey’s.” Charlie moved to her doorway, felt Cooper’s eyes follow her as she did, and wondered if he’d felt the same charge that she had. Fat chance. Even if she were his type, she wasn’t exactly showing very well right now in her baggy old bibs and sporting half a can of paint.
COOPER CLOSED his office door behind him and dropped into his desk chair. The scowl on his face deepened. He needed to find some more convincing mind messages because the ones he’d been feeding himself about not wanting Charlene Morrison weren’t working.
Why the hell had he touched her? He wouldn’t have if he’d taken a second to consider what he was doing—but no, he’d just had to do it. Act first, think later…not the best way to proceed when your body was trying to coerce you into something your mind knew would be a mistake.
Charlie would be a mistake. He knew that as clearly as if someone had branded the message on her forehead to remind him of it every time he looked at her.
The woman had baggage. She wasn’t unpacking or showing it to anyone, but it was there, stuffed away in some closet she didn’t want anyone looking into. He’d seen it anyway, all zipped up. The problem with that was that one day, no matter how you tried to contain it, the seams would give way and all those closely guarded secrets would spill out to haunt you.
It had happened with his mother. He’d had no choice in her case; she’d been his mom, and he’d been the only one there to take care of her. But Charlie was different. He had no obligation and even less desire to try to wrangle with whatever demons plagued her.
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