by Anthology
“That might be, but he didn’t look like a man who knew.”
“Oh my gosh, if they were reconciling, I really am a home wrecker.”
“Look, it’s not your fault.” At her look, he continued, “Mostly not your fault. You didn’t make her cheat. And you definitely didn’t make her go crazy like that today.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to go blabbing it to the one she cheated on.” Charlotte looked away. “And I know what it’s like to do a crazy thing you’d never do otherwise when you’re drunk and heartbroken. If Leslie hadn’t just ruined Winnie and Brian’s wedding reception, I’d go apologize or something to her.”
Brad raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment further on that. “Here’s the real question—why the hell would you think she and I were a thing, especially after last night?”
Um, that was a good question. It had made so much sense in the moment. It’d been like the final piece of the puzzle, right?
“I—” She stopped.
“Yeah?”
“She said I ruined things last night. She called me a home wrecker.” Charlotte paused, wondering why she was nervous. “And she seemed like your type.” Sexy and passionate and thin.
Not like me.
“My type? You thought a crazy lady ruining that wedding reception is my type?”
“No. I mean, yeah, but Leslie isn’t always like that. Usually she’s confident and sexy. She looks like an underwear model. You guys would make sense.”
“You’re not making sense. She’s not my type at all.”
“Right. What about that woman you were brought to my baking class?”
Brad thought for a minute. “The woman my friend set me up with?” Brad laughed. “I only saw her once, the night she dragged me—” At her look, he corrected, “Invited me to your class, and that was over a year ago.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve seen you with anyone else since then.”
“You’ve seen me with you.”
Charlotte laughed, though there was little humor in it. “Like I’m your type.”
“You’re exactly my type,” Brad said, his eyes serious. “After last night, how can you doubt it?”
Charlotte ignored that bit. Sex wasn’t the whole picture. She said, “No, I’m not.” If she was, he would have kissed her—or more—before he left last September. He would have asked her out on a date. He would have wanted to keep in contact, and he wouldn’t have ignored her letter.
Brad shook his head. “Yes you are. Smart, funny, caring, and hot as hell. Exactly my type.”
“You mean plain and passionless.” Charlotte looked down at her no-nonsense shoes. “Not sexy at all.”
Sliding a hand against her jaw and tipping her face up until her eyes met his, Brad said, “You can’t possibly think that that’s what you are.” He searched her eyes. “You’re… ” He stopped, started again. “Beautiful.”
Very convincing. “I’m covered in tears and cake.”
Brad looked down at his uniform. “So am I.” He laughed. “So you’re a little bit of a mess right now too. That doesn’t make me want you any less.” He moved forward, backing her against the cashier counter. “And as for being passionless, I don’t think that word can mean what you think it means. Last night you blew my—”
Charlotte clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say it.
Brad moved her hand, pressing a kiss against her palm as he did. “—mind.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile at that. “So you say. For all I know, it was terrible and awkward.”
“Now I know you don’t remember last night.” Brad placed his hands on either side of her and leaned down until just a couple inches separated their mouths. “Let me remind you.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure if Brad moved the final inches or if she did, but it didn’t matter because then they were kissing and the world narrowed to that one point of contact of lips against lips. Lips moving slowly, then quicker. Mouths exploring, tongues stroking. Her hands seeking, smoothing through short hair, settling on broad shoulders.
If her lungs hadn’t required oxygen, Charlotte wouldn’t have moved her mouth from his for a month.
He hadn’t moved his hands, he hadn’t said anything else, but Charlotte felt the world shift. As if she changed, right there in that one moment, in the time it took for one kiss from the man she loved.
Just one kiss, and she didn’t think she’d ever be the same.
Maybe it was a good thing she barely remembered last night, or she probably wouldn’t recognize herself in the mirror.
Brad finally moved his hands, sliding them up her arms before moving to cup her face. “I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning. Speaking of which… you stole my clothes.”
Charlotte laughed. “I’d apologize, but then you were the one who threw my clothes in the creek. Are you mad?”
“Not if I really threw your clothes in the creek.”
“Trust me, you did. And there was no way I was walking home naked.
Brad grinned. “No, you left me to do that. And in the rain.”
Squirming, Charlotte said, “You didn’t really have to walk in the rain, did you?”
“Thankfully old man Garley was more compassionate than you, woman.” Brad leaned in to Charlotte’s neck and mock growled, making her giggle.
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’d knocked me out and robbed me.”
Charlotte gaped at him and pushed at his shoulder. “You didn’t!”
“Of course I didn’t. He asked me if I needed a ride.”
“And?”
“And I said yes.”
“That’s it?”
“What else was there supposed to be?” Brad sounded honestly puzzled, and Charlotte laughed again. She couldn’t imagine finding someone half naked in the woods and giving them a ride home without asking a million questions.
“Nothing. And here I was all worried about you for nothing when I heard that thunder this morning.”
The side of Brad’s mouth curved up. “You were worried about me?”
And just like that, memories from the past nine months came flooding back, invading the glow they’d created in her little shop. She thought of the nights she paced back and forth, praying over and over that he’d be okay. She thought of how she’d wept when she heard men from his brigade had died, ashamed at the relief she felt that it wasn’t him. She thought of how much easier it might have been on her if she could have talked to him during any of that.
And, of course, that made her think of the letter she sent him, the letter that, while embarrassing and maybe silly, contained the truth of her feelings.
The letter that had gone unanswered.
It didn’t make sense. If he wanted her now, why didn’t he want her then? Was this just about sex for him? Charlotte couldn’t imagine that she, out of all people, would be singled out for a torrid affair, but… she just didn’t understand any of it.
“Why didn’t you answer my letter?”
Looking taken aback for a moment, Brad stared at her. She didn’t think he was going to answer, but finally he said, “I didn’t open your letter while I was gone.”
If just one kiss had shifted her world, that one sentence shifted it again.
Hurt filled her. It didn’t matter that the letter had started as a drunken joke and that it was never meant to be mailed. It had been mailed, and she’d told him she’d loved him. There had been a part of her that was relieved to put it out there, to open a line of communication with the man she missed so much.
And he hadn’t even bothered to open it.
She couldn’t even… she just couldn’t…
“Please leave,” Charlotte said, squeezing words through her tight throat.
“Charlotte.” Brad swallowed. “It wasn’t… ” He didn’t continue, just looked at her like he knew everything about this moment was wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t think she could listen to him try.
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“Leave.” Her voice cracked on the word, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him again. Not about this. This wasn’t a smashed cake. It was a cracked heart.
It was too much. She couldn’t handle anything more right then.
He must have sensed that, because he slid his hand into hers, gave it a squeeze and said, “If you drive home, be careful.” Then he was gone.
Charlotte didn’t want to spend any more time crying. She felt drained, and now she wanted her best friend, Sophia, here, because she always made Charlotte feel better about things. And, truth be told, Charlotte wasn’t sure that all of this wasn’t just a little bit Sophia’s fault anyways for bringing that tequila bottle over four months ago.
But Sophia was currently on a family camping trip far from any cell phone towers. Charlotte could imagine what Sophia would probably say, though. She’d tell Charlotte to go lie down and rest, and then go hug a baby.
Preferably one she was related to.
So that was what Charlotte did.
Chapter Five
By the next morning, Charlotte had hugged enough babies—her nephews—and self-soothed enough to remember she was a professional woman.
Which was why she was standing in front of the door of Hotel Papillon’s best suite, psyching herself up to knock and make the necessary apologies to Winnie and Brian. Hopefully she’d caught them before they left for their honeymoon.
Buck up, Heatley.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte knocked on the door. She was just about to assume they’d already left when Winnie flung open the door looking flushed. “Hey. Am I, um, interrupting?” Winnie was dressed, but she looked really flushed.
Winnie just laughed. “Not unless you count marathon packing.” She gestured to the clothes and toiletries scattered across every available surface like a hurricane had just blown through. “I was looking for something in my suitcase and things got a little out of control. Brian went to go grab something from home, and I’m trying to get it all repacked before he gets back and sees the worst of it. Will you help me?”
“Sure.” Charlotte liked packing. She made a list and did a run-through first, before doing the final pack job. Looking at the mess, Charlotte didn’t think Winnie was the list type. Charlotte picked up a pair of khakis and folded them. “Winnie, I came here—”
Winnie glanced up at her and waved her hand through the air. “It’s okay.”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. Whatever it was, she knew it certainly wasn’t that. “How can it be okay? Your wedding was ruined.”
Winnie stopped folding. “My wedding wasn’t ruined.” She smiled, the soft smile of a woman who was well loved. “I married the man of my dreams. I’m starting a shared life with him. Nothing could have ruined that. Not even smashed wedding cake.”
“But… you were crying.”
Winnie snorted. “I wasn’t crying.”
“You were. Brian was doing the there-there thing and shhhing you. I remember that very clearly.”
“Oh, he was shhhing me, all right. But that’s because he didn’t want people hearing me laugh.”
Charlotte couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I don’t understand… ”
“I’ve been told at time that I have… a strange sense of humor.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Look,” Winnie interrupted. “On the one hand, I was horrified and upset and disappointed and a million other things. This was my dream wedding and my dream cake and I didn’t even get to eat any of it before it ended up on the floor. But on the other hand, if you could have seen yourself jumping on Leslie’s back… and then when Brad Ryder tried to help you up and you both went crashing down… oh my gosh, I laughed so hard, I almost busted out of my dress.”
For the first time since it happened, Charlotte felt a smile curl her lips at the thought of what she must have looked like sitting on the floor, covered in cake.
The door to the suite opened and Brian walked in, smiling politely when he saw Charlotte before crossing the room and kissing Winnie softly on the cheek. It was over quickly, but there was a tenderness, an openness, a warm glow of love that lingered, and Charlotte’s throat tightened.
Brian looked at the mess of clothes and raised his eyebrows, but Winnie hurriedly said, “I was just telling Charlotte she doesn’t need to throw herself on the ground at my feet or anything nearly so dramatic.”
“She just has to help you repack.” Looking like a man entirely pleased with his world, Brian turned to Charlotte. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. Those were some… nasty falls,” he said diplomatically.
“Ah, yeah. I’m fine. Luckily I have a hard head.” And a soft brain, apparently. She needed to apologize and then leave the newlyweds alone. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know that I will be refunding the cost of the cake”—which would hurt, especially if no one in town wanted to hire her after yesterday—“and I would like to offer my deepest apologies for the spectacle I participated in yesterday, and the disruption of what should have been a wonderful, joy-filled day with no disasters in sight.”
“Clearly you don’t know Winnie very well.” Grinning, Brian winked at Charlotte.
Charlotte glanced quickly toward Winnie, but she just rolled her eyes. “My husband—oh gosh, I love saying that!—is referring to what happened at Becky’s engagement party last year, which was partly my fault.”
Charlotte chose not to say anything. What had happened at Winnie’s best friend’s engagement party last summer had been epically disastrous. Brian cleared his throat.
Winnie said, “Okay. That was, like, all my fault. The point is, life is messy sometimes. It’s expected. You clean up and move on.”
“That is a very generous attitude under the circumstances.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just still high on all the cheesecake Brian fed me last night before oversexing me into oblivion.” Winnie’s grin was wicked as she looked at her new husband, whose ears were turning red.
Charlotte couldn’t help but think that was adorable—they were adorable.
Winnie said, “We’ll talk about money when I get back from my honeymoon. Leslie promised to pay for the damage, and Brad offered as well, before making an argument on your behalf for”—she turned to Brian—“cake defense? Is that what’d you call it?”
Before Brian could answer, Charlotte jumped in. “Brad offered? When?”
“Last night. Not long after you both left, he came back to apologize and help clean up.”
“He apologized?”
“He said he was the cause of it all. Then he and Brian started talking in code. Something about being ‘ate up,’ which was funny since no one was going eat any cake up, that’s for sure.” At Charlotte’s look, Winnie added, gesturing toward Brian, “You can take the man out of the military, but you can’t really take the military out of the man.”
“Airborne Ranger.” For the first time since Brian entered the room, the smile left his face.
“Oh, right. Airborne Ranger.” Winnie gently ushered Charlotte toward the door and whispered, “He’s so weird about that, but my brother’s the same way. Like saying ‘Army’ isn’t enough or something.” Her tone said, Men, what can you do about them?
“Winnie, I’m not sure why Brad would have told you that, but none of that was his fault.” Charlotte noted the smile on Winnie’s face and said, “But I’m guessing you already know that.”
“What I know is that your man is a really nice guy. He cleaned up, did his best to take the blame, defended you, made friends with my husband—I think they already made plans for a man date—and then Brad went all the way to A-Bay and back for this salted caramel cheesecake to die for from this boutique bakery just because Brian mentioned it was my favorite dessert outside of Bliss Harbor.”
Stunned, Charlotte couldn’t think of anything to say besides, “He’s not my man.”
Winnie laughed. “Yeah, okay. I recognize that look. But I love a good story as muc
h as the next person, so how about when I’m back in a couple weeks, you can feed me delicious cake and tell me all about it?”
Charlotte didn’t think it’d be a very good story considering the ending, but she nodded anyway.
“Good. I’m not sure what it says about me, but the moment I saw you jump on a crazy lady’s back while she was wielding the cane of destruction, I knew I wanted to be your friend.”
“I’m not sure what it says about me that I jumped on her back to begin with, so we’re probably made for each other.” Charlotte walked into the hallway. “Sorry again about all the trouble yesterday. I hope you guys have an absolutely wonderful time. I look forward to wowing you in a few weeks with some delicious confection.”
“A woman after my own heart.” With that, Winnie waved and closed the door.
Well, that was one thing Charlotte could cross off her list.
She couldn’t believe Brad had done all that last night, though. What had Winnie said? Your man is a really nice guy. He might not be Charlotte’s man, but he was really nice. He didn’t have to do that stuff last night, especially with how she’d started his day. She certainly wouldn’t have blamed him if he hadn’t.
The real question was why?
She couldn’t make sense of it. He did stuff like that and it was hard to think he didn’t care for her, but then last night he had admitted he never bothered to even open the letter she sent. He didn’t want to stay in touch with her while he was gone, but as soon as he got back, he slept with her.
Sometimes figuring men out could be worse than calculus.
Charlotte realized she’d been walking a bit aimlessly down Main Street, lost in thought, when she found herself in front of Frannie’s dress shop. Seeing a flash of movement inside, Charlotte decided to knock despite the closed sign hanging in the window. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone about Brad right now, but Frannie would know better than anyone how Charlotte was feeling about the business stuff after the fiasco yesterday.
Frannie opened the door, motioning her inside. “Charlotte. I’m so glad to see you. I wondered if you might be halfway to Mexico by now.”