Return to Glebe Point

by Patricia Paris

  “SO I’VE decided on a name for the shop,” Charlie announced to the small group sitting around the oversized brick fire pit down by the water later that night. The kids had all been scooted off to bed after the fireworks, and most of the guests had gone home shortly after that. It was mostly only family, and Cooper, and a couple of her cousins’ closer friends who remained.

  “That’s exciting.” Gab leaned forward to look past Justin at Charlie. “What are you thinking of calling it?”

  “Charlie’s Finger Cakes. I got the idea from Ben and Chloe. They told me that’s what they called them, and I thought, well, that’s really what they are—little finger cakes.”

  “I love it.” Delaney lifted her head from Blake’s shoulder and stretched back her shoulders. “The kids will get a real kick out of knowing they gave you the idea for the name, too.”

  Justin poked at the fire with a long stick, a pyro from an early age. “Now that you’ve decided on a name you can get your signage and start advertising to spark people’s interest before the grand opening. There’s a guy who’s done several of the signs in town; he’s good and his prices are reasonable. I’ve got his name and contact info at the office. I’ll send it to you Monday morning.”

  “That’d be great. I already know what I want the sign to look like, but I want it to be a surprise, so you’ll all have to wait until it goes up.”

  Charlie glanced around the ring of people and then frowned. “Where’s Mary?”

  “She left a couple of hours ago,” Blake said. “She was getting tired but didn’t want to leave because she said you seemed to be having a good time, and she didn’t want to spoil your fun. I told her to go ahead, and we’d give you a lift home.”

  “I could have gone with her. Now you’ve got to cart me home with two sleeping kids in the car.”

  “We’re not going to have to cart you home. We pass Mary’s on the way so it’s no big deal. And believe me, Ben and Kate can sleep through anything, so don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not worrying. I just wish I’d known she was leaving so you didn’t have to make the extra stop.”

  Cooper leaned forward and stuck his hands out toward the fire, rubbed them together. He glanced up at her and their gazes held a moment. “I can give you a lift. I go right past Mary’s, too, and I won’t have any sleeping kids in the backseat that I need to get home and put to bed.”

  Before Charlie could agree or disagree, Delaney cut her off. “That would be great if you don’t mind, Cooper. Not that we mind, but it might be more comfortable for Charlie not to have to climb over car seats to get in and out.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Cooper assured Delaney, the two of them making the decision without Charlie’s input. “Like I said, it’s on the way for me, too.”

  Charlie glanced over at Delaney just in time to see her exchange a conspiratorial smile with Gabriella, who was giving her sister-in-law a thumbs-up.

  There be matchmakers afoot, Charlie told herself, and wondered if Cooper realized what he’d just gotten himself into.

  THEY PULLED out of Justin’s driveway a short time later. Charlie wondered if Cooper had volunteered to drive her home because he thought it would make it easier for Blake and Delaney or if there was more behind his offer.

  She’d caught him watching her several times throughout the day, which she probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t spent half of it watching him, too. It hadn’t been conscious; she’d catch sight of him and slip into some kind of trance. Everything about him seemed to tug at her, lure her.

  Eye candy—he was that—no arguing the simple truth, and who could fault her for a little drool, a little fantasizing? It didn’t hurt to look, or imagine—unless you had a sweet tooth and your imagination involved hot, hungry mouths, feverish bodies, undressing each other—then that could be a problem, which meant she probably had one since that pretty much summarized her free-roaming thoughts about the guy.

  Of course, it figured with her luck the first man to make her question her moratorium on men would be one who professed no interest. Except that whenever he looked at her, his eyes told her something else, and unless she was completely delusional, he wanted to get sweaty with her.

  She might not be his type, he might not want to be attracted to her, but she hadn’t wanted to be attracted to any man. And wasn’t it just one big fat irony they seemed to have developed a case of the hots for one another anyway.

  Now he was taking her home. Maybe that’s all it would be—a lift—thanks and goodbye. Oh…she hoped not. She didn’t want a relationship. Clearly, neither did he, but the truth was she enjoyed his kisses. She enjoyed them a lot, and it had been a long time since she’d enjoyed much of anything, especially the attentions of a man.

  She wouldn’t go to bed with him, not yet anyway. She did, however, find the thought of opening a bottle of wine, cozying up on the porch swing together, and tasting it on each other’s tongues very appealing.

  Neither of them said much on the drive. Charlie wondered if his thoughts were in line with her own. He could just as easily be thinking about the Nationals making a run for the World Series. They were having a great year.

  She ventured a look across the seat. Cooper’s brows were drawn close together and he was scowling. The guy had something on his mind. Nationals—her? Nationals—her?

  “Are you a Nats fan?”

  “What? No. Orioles. Why?”

  “Just curious.” Charlie drummed her fingers against her knee. Nerves? “Is that what you’re thinking about?”

  “Is what what I’m thinking about?”

  “The Orioles. I thought you might be thinking about the Nats, but you’re not a fan, so now I’m wondering if you were thinking about the O’s.”

  Cooper pulled up in front of the cottage and put the car in park. He managed to maintain his grimace while arching his brows up in question at the same time. “Why the hell were you wondering about that?”

  “Actually, I started out wondering if you were thinking about me, but then I thought it was entirely possible you were thinking about the Nats’ chances of taking the World Series. You know, because you’re a guy. Except that you’re an O’s fan, so I was wrong about that. Now I’m thinking you probably were thinking about me all along.”

  “You? Of all the things that could be occupying my thoughts, what makes you think whatever it was had anything to do with you?”

  Shrugging, she cocked her head to the side and when their eyes met, she grinned. “You were scowling.”

  “I don’t scowl. I was probably just concentrating on driving, and you misinterpreted my attention to the road for something else.”

  “Yeah, you really need to be extra cautious out here on these country roads; the traffic’s a bitch.”

  The scowl returned again. “There are deer—lots of them—I’ve seen them out here before. These woods are thick with them.”

  “You’re right. They are. I should have realized that’s all it was. You were looking out for deer.” So he had been thinking about her.

  “Okay, true confessions time. I was thinking about your cupcakes. I was anticipating eating one of those chocolate-bacon ones Blake said were so good but which were all gone when I went to get one before settling down to watch the fireworks. In fact all the cupcakes were gone. Greedy vultures didn’t leave a single crumb.”

  Charlie weighed her options. Keep it light, let him off the hook, say goodnight, and then go inside and sleep it off…or invite him in and call his bluff.

  “I’ve got a couple of dozen I intended to freeze waiting to be boxed up in the cottage. If you ask real nice, I might consider letting you have one or two.”

  He asked very nicely, and she invited him to come inside for a late-night snack—cupcakes and a glass of wine. If she was wrong, it would end with that. If she was right…well…she’d see where it led.

  CHARLIE GOT one plate and two wineglasses out of the cupboard. While she arranged an assortment of cupcakes
on the plate, Cooper dealt with the wine. They took their late-night snack out to the patio and sat on the swing, the plate of cupcakes resting on the cushion between them. He drooled over a choco-bacon one, fueled her confidence with his high praise, and tempted her sorely with his fathomless ebony eyes.

  The moon hung low over the marsh, big and full, silvering all it illuminated in soft, quiet light: a restless, great blue heron poking around the edges of the cord grass, another late-night snack seeker; the ripples on the water’s surface sparkling like diamonds as they drifted toward the shore; the stretch of lawn that lay between all that beauty and her little patio—all of them kissed by the glow of that wonderfully romantic rock in the sky.

  Funny that an oversized mineral had the power to inspire thoughts of romance in the hearts of men and women alike, and tonight’s was especially lovely. She wasn’t looking for romance, though, just a few heated kisses to satisfy her taste for his lips, which were becoming somewhat of an obsession since he’d planted them on hers the other day. Yes, this newly acquired craving of hers was his fault. He’d started it.

  “It’s such a beautiful night. Do you want to take a walk down to the water?” she suggested.

  “If you’d like, although it is getting late. I enjoyed the cupcakes but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He stood up as she did, and they set their wineglasses on the patio table as they walked past it.

  “I wasn’t planning to come in when I offered you a ride.”

  Charlie looked over her shoulder at him as she stepped off the patio. “I think you were. I think you’re still curious.”

  He caught up to her, hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he walked beside her. He looked down at her and didn’t deny it.

  “What if I am? What if I was trying to figure out how to satisfy some more of it when I got you home?”

  “Is that what you were thinking about when you were scowling so hard at the windshield—I mean looking out for herds of deer?”

  “I don’t scowl. I concentrate. What you considered a scowl was just me concentrating on the odds you’d let me kiss you again and weighing the consequences if I did.”

  “Right now the odds are in your favor. It seems you’ve sparked my curiosity as well.” She swung her arms in tandem with her stride as she walked. “The consequences should be minimal if there are any at all. Neither of us is interested in a relationship…especially not with each other. So I see no reason why we can’t indulge our curiosity a little as long as we both understand that’s all it is.”

  “Agreed. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. If there’s a chance one of us thinks there’s more to this than there is, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to risk the possibility someone could get hurt.”

  Charlie frowned up at him. “By anyone and one of us and someone, are you implying me?”

  Cooper stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her to face him. “Look, I’m going to be really blunt. I don’t know why, but I’ve developed some kind of obsession for you. It’s distracting and I don’t like it. To be even more blunt, it has nothing to do with who you are and everything to do with wanting to get you into my bed. Naked. Hot. Willing.”

  Charlie swallowed. Yeah, well…right. Blunt enough she had no illusions he’d fallen head over heels for her amiable personality—gag—and pureness of spirit—double gag.

  She should probably be offended; instead, she was imagining the hands that were on her shoulders sliding over her bare skin, exploring, tempting, and then satisfying the itch that he’d created and which had only gotten worse since he’d kissed her that first time.

  “We barely know each other, so it would be foolish to think the attraction could be anything more than physical.” Cooper rubbed his hands down her arms then back up again. “I don’t want to mislead you. If you’re not okay with that, you should probably send me on my way right now. I might end up frustrated as hell, but I’ll respect whatever you decide; it’s your choice.”

  “Okay.” Charlie looked him in the eyes, made sure she had his full attention. She respected and appreciated his honesty; there were a lot of men who’d just take what they could get. She knew. And women could be just as misleading; she didn’t want there to be any false expectations on either of their parts.

  “Let me be just as clear. There’s no chance you’re going to get into my panties tonight. Whether that happens at some future date remains to be seen. I’m curious, but I’m also cautious. I have no interest in anything other than a mutually satisfying physical relationship with you either, but you will need to meet some prerequisites before that happens.”

  “Do I get to know what those are?”

  “Not right now. I’m still figuring some of them out, but I’ll know them when I see them. The point is we’re both on the same page here, Barone. No strings on either one of us. There is one more thing; I’d prefer to keep whatever happens between us quiet. Our secret.”

  He nodded. “Okay. If that’s the way you want it.”

  Charlie turned and looked out over the water. “That’s exactly the way I want it.” It was just how she wanted it. No complications, no explanations, no one to hover over her with worry in their eyes because they thought she might get hurt. It was her life, her risk taken, her satisfaction lost or won.

  She turned back to Cooper. “It would be a shame to waste this moon any longer, so if you’re done being blunt, I think it’s time you shut up and kiss me.”

  He reached for her and pulled her close. She slid her hands around his waist, and as he lowered his head and captured her mouth, a curtain fell back into place over one of the Inn’s second floor bedroom windows.

  CHARLIE LEANED into him. Full lips, even softer than they’d looked, hotter than he’d imagined, opened under his, letting him in to explore the richness of her sweet, velvety mouth. It shocked his system, the lightning-quick jolt of need that shot through him.

  He’d only just kissed her and already his fingers itched, impatient to explore, to roam, to seek out the secret spots that would make her moan, melt in his hands, beg for more of his touch.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he brushed his lips across her cheek, down to her neck, and meant it. She had the face of a goddess—porcelain skin, arresting, warm golden eyes, and a mouth no man could look at and not crave to possess. He had, too many times to count, and now it was his to enjoy.

  “So are you.” She leaned her head back, gave a little moan when he nibbled on her neck, and it made him smile. He hadn’t expected so much heat. It burned in her, into him, a wildfire spreading rapidly through his veins.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes. You have a nice mouth. Talented.” She took his face between her hands, pulled it to hers. “Maybe a little too talented to allow it free roam this soon. You’re very tempting if you didn’t know, and if I were to listen to my body right now, we’d probably both have a lot fewer clothes on.”

  “Not a problem for me, mia belleza.”

  “And although I don’t know what you just said, I think I may be highly susceptible to words murmured in Italian, so you need to limit those until you’ve met a few of the prerequisites.”

  “Will you let me know if I’m getting close since you haven’t told me what they are?”

  She nodded. “I will. You’ve already met one of them. You give when you kiss, that’s important. I don’t want a selfish lover, Cooper.”

  “A woman’s pleasure only heightens a man’s. And I’m Italian, I believe in a little romance, even if it’s only a casual affair. It should still be pleasant, enjoyable for both of us. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  Charlie angled her head and looked at him as if what he’d just said surprised her. To him it just made sense. If they were going to end up in bed together, which he very much hoped they did, they should show some consideration for each other’s needs.

  He leaned forward and angled his mouth over hers again. She tasted of wine, a rich ruby red, laced w
ith buttercream frosting, an interesting combination. He dragged her further under with him. The late August night began to cool, but their blood flowed warm, tipping to hot even though he tried to temper the flames, curb the need she’d incited until she gave him the full speed ahead nod.

  He hoped she didn’t make him wait too long. The sooner they did the deed, the sooner he could get over this ridiculous need he’d developed for her, and they could settle into a pleasant, uncomplicated affair.

  Charlie knelt down on the newly refinished wide-plank floors inside Charlie’s Finger Cakes on a Monday evening a couple of weeks later and tied the final gauzy, silver tulle bow around the last of the dusty-pink wrought iron chairs still needing that final touch to make it perfect.

  Delighted with the effect, she stood and ran her hand over the delicately curved back of the chair, one of three that encircled a matching café table. Close by were four identical table and chair sets painted the same soft pink with airy silver bows gracing the chair backs.

  Her new display cases gleamed. Tomorrow, their clear glass shelves would be filled with cupcakes for the first time. She lifted her arms over her head and crossed her fingers on both hands. Hopefully she’d sell some of them.

  Her cousins would all make an appearance, of course, and Mary had already told her she would be in after lunch with a couple of her friends. They’d come for moral support, and to make sure she wasn’t in the kitchen dumping batter into the wastebasket and cursing herself for listening to them if she didn’t get any real customers.

  Stop worrying. Hadn’t several people tapped on her windows after the signs went up to ask when she’d be opening for business?

  Her cousins had been spreading the word. She’d placed ads in two local papers and had posters all over town announcing her grand opening. She drew in a deep breath and then blew it back out slowly. The pent-up anxiety she felt was nothing more than nerves—opening day jitters. She needed to make this work, so it was only natural she felt nervous.

  The knot in her stomach unraveled as she talked herself down to a manageable state of calm. She busied herself tending to a few more finishing touches and tried not to dwell on the what-ifs.