He grabbed the white fleece collar and pulled her within kissing distance. “You never wore such hot-looking makeup back in high school.”
She grinned. “I wasn’t looking to attract attention back in high school.”
Unexpected relief washed over him. “Missed me today, did you?” He’d wanted to give her time to do just that before seeing her again. But he hadn’t stayed away easily.
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say I was looking to attract your attention.”
He wasn’t fooled. She’d missed him as much as he’d missed her. “Well, you’ve got it anyway. Now shut up and kiss me.”
She did. Her lips were chilled and he warmed them, slipping his tongue inside her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close, deepening the kiss and letting out a sigh of satisfaction he could relate to. She slid her hands into the back pocket of his jeans, her palms flat against his behind. Her tongue met his thrust for thrust, the same way their bodies, now aligned, sought to mimic the erotic motion. Unfortunately, too many layers of clothing stood between them.
Cheers sounded in the distance and she broke the kiss. “I can’t do this now,” she said through dampened lips.
He stared at her dazed expression. “Sure you can. And you want to.” Having already experienced slick heaven inside her, so did he.
She cocked her head to one side. “Okay, then, I’ll rephrase. I want to, but I can’t.”
He still gripped her forearms with both hands and the desire to make love to her—hard, cold ground be damned— was overwhelming. “Give me one reason why not, and make it a good one.”
“Because my mother left a message on my answering machine. She said she’d meet me at the baseball field. She almost never comes to town events and now we’re talking two in one week. I have to be there.”
The regret in her eyes was enough to satisfy him. For now. “I didn’t think you could come up with anything compelling enough. You did.” He released his grasp. His body wasn’t thrilled, but his heart won out. He wanted to give her what she desired, in this case seeing her mother. He just wished it wouldn’t cause her pain. “You haven’t spoken to her since you’ve been back?”
Charlotte shook her head. “We played phone tag.”
Then she definitely didn’t know about her father. “Charlotte …”
“Come.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go find my mother, catch the game, and if you’re lucky, I’ll let you catch me afterward.” She laughed, and before he could say another word, she took off running.
With a groan, he ran after her, figuring he could just be there to minimize the damage when the shock came.
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and laughed. Thanks to her quick dash, she was light-headed. Of course, Roman’s kiss had much to do with her dizzy state, but her escape had been born of pure self-preservation. She didn’t care how far from the baseball field they were, everyone would take one look at her and figure out what they’d been doing. So the less she did under the bleachers, the better as far as she was concerned. Until later. Then they could pick up where they left off and do whatever they wanted.
The thought sent tingles of anticipation up her spine, arousing every nerve ending she possessed, bringing a stinging flush to her cheeks. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she realized Roman was walking behind her at a leisurely pace. He grinned and waved, then got sidetracked by Rick, who grabbed him on the shoulder.
Charlotte slowed her steps, and turned back to walk right into her mother. A glowing version of her mother, from her made-up face to her bright smile and twinkling eyes.
“Mom!”
“Where are you coming from in such a hurry?” Annie steadied her with a hug before letting go.
“I’m … I was …”
“Making out under the bleachers with Roman.” Her mother reached a hand up and brushed her knuckle over Charlotte’s cheek. “I recognize the signs. Your father and I used to do it all the time.”
A protest rose to her lips. Charlotte didn’t want to accept that anything about her feelings for Roman was similar to Annie and Russell. Not even something as light and fun as acting like teenagers.
“So what brings you out tonight?” Charlotte asked.
She glanced around, looking for Dennis Sterling, then eyed her mother with curiosity. “Or maybe I should ask, who brings you out tonight?”
From the corner of her eye, Charlotte noticed Beth waving wildly in the distance. If Beth was that hungry, she should just eat without waiting. Charlotte signaled back with one finger, indicating she’d be another minute or so.
Annie sighed. “I should have known I couldn’t keep a secret in this town.”
Charlotte turned back to her mother. “Apparently you can, because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” The only thing Charlotte did know was that her mother had a high-wattage smile and an easy laugh she hadn’t seen in way too long. When Charlotte ran into Dennis, she’d plant a huge kiss on him herself.
She pulled her mother into a tight hug. As she inhaled, a beautiful scent Charlotte didn’t recognize teased her senses. “Perfume and makeup,” she murmured.
“I hope you’ll greet me with the same enthusiasm, Charlie.”
That voice, using that name. Charlotte stiffened and dropped her arms, backing slowly away from her mother. Betrayal settled like lead in her stomach. Charlotte should have known better than to think her mother had allowed herself to be interested in anyone other than her absentee husband, Russell Bronson.
She turned and faced the man who casually walked in and out of her life on his own schedule. He was as good-looking as ever, dressed in khakis and a navy pullover sweater. His hair was neatly combed, with more gray than she remembered. His face offered a few more lines, but he’d aged well. And looked happy.
Unlike her mother, Charlotte had no doubt his moods didn’t change depending upon whether or not he was with Annie. But her mother’s mood, actions, and even how she looked hinged on whether Russell was in town. And when he took off again.
Charlotte’s anger grew, not just at the man who made Yorkshire Falls and his family into a revolving door—but at her mother, for allowing herself to be manipulated so easily. And for so long.
“Charlie?”
Charlotte wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “So the prodigal father’s returned.”
He stepped forward and she stepped back.
Disappointment flickered in his eyes—or maybe that was what she wanted to see. That darn kernel of hope she’d always held in her heart wouldn’t be extinguished, but she refused to act on it.
The baseball game continued, but Charlotte had lost interest. And apparently so had the rest of the crowd. Unless she was paranoid, she felt dozens of pairs of eyes trained on the dysfunctional Bronson family. Small-town curiosity at its finest. She braced herself against the stares and chatter, and stood in silence, waiting for her parents to speak.
Russell sighed. “Not the reception I was hoping for,” he said finally.
“But the one you expected, I’m sure.”
Roman strode to her side and placed an arm around her shoulder. More fodder for gossip at Norman’s, she thought wryly. “Am I interrupting a family reunion?”
She shook her head. “Roman, you remember my …” She cleared her throat. “You remember Russell, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He extended his hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Sweet Raina had instilled perfect manners into all three of her sons. Too bad she hadn’t given them her sense of stability and roots.
Russell shook Roman’s hand. “It’s been a while.”
“It certainly has,” Roman said.
She gritted her teeth, forced a smile, and aimed her next comments Roman’s way. “True. And considering you’ve been in town for a few days, you’re more up on what’s new around here. So why don’t you catch Russell up on what he’s missed during this last absence?”
Roman’s sh
arp intake of breath sliced into her heart, but she refused to let it change her intentions. In her mind, she saw herself as she’d been when she’d run out from behind the bleachers, laughing, happy, and excited from her run-in with Roman. Looking forward with aroused anticipation to the night ahead, when she could get him alone. And before her now, she saw her mother, with similarly flushed cheeks and a carefree expression—all because Russell Bronson had deigned to return.
The parallels between herself and her mother were strong. So strong, she could begin to see how Annie’s life began and ended with Russell. A lifetime in limbo. No way would Charlotte allow herself to end up like her. She looked back and forth between the two men with the power to rip her heart to pieces if she let them. She couldn’t afford to soften toward either one right now.
Much as she didn’t want to hurt Roman, he represented everything she feared. How had she let herself forget that? “You know, now that I think about it, you two have so much in common it’s uncanny.”
Russell glanced at Roman, or, more accurately, Charlotte thought, Roman’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Oh, I am. How long are you in town for this time? A day? A weekend? Or maybe longer, since you have a few months before pilot season starts.”
“Charlotte!” Her mother spoke up, giving her daughter a warning touch on the arm.
Charlotte covered her mother’s chilled hand with her own. The last person she wanted to hurt was Annie. “See? He doesn’t have an answer, Mom. He’ll leave when he gets bored.”
Charlotte glanced up at Roman, then turned away when a lump rose to her throat. “How about you?” she asked without meeting his gaze. “Raina looks healthier by the day, thank God.” She pointed to where his mother sat on a beach blanket with Eric Fallon, watching them. So were Fred Aames, Marianne Diamond, Pearl Robinson, Eldin Wingate, and everyone else in town. Charlotte hated being the center of notoriety. “You can take off anytime now too. I told you, you both had a lot in common.”
Before she could lose control of herself or what remained of her composure, she pivoted and took off. Away from her mother, her father, but most of all, away from Roman.
CHAPTER TEN
Roman watched Charlotte go. Away from the field, her father, and away from him. Her pain was his pain, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and groaned in frustration. He couldn’t let her run off alone. Not when she was so upset. He’d just seen firsthand the devastation her father’s return had caused.
“Someone ought to go after her,” Annie said. Clearly she wasn’t referring to herself, since she gripped Russell’s arm more firmly.
“Someone should,” Russell added. “But she won’t listen to anything I have to say.”
“Is it any wonder?” Roman raised an eyebrow at her parents. “I’m not here to pass judgment”—Lord knew he didn’t live a blameless life—“but did either one of you consider talking to her privately instead of making a public spectacle of this family reunion?” Feeling precious minutes slipping away, Roman glanced out toward the field. Relief passed through him when he realized Charlotte was taking the long route home, on foot.
Russell shrugged helplessly, regret obvious in the green eyes that looked so much like Charlotte’s. “Annie felt sure she wouldn’t come over if we told her on the phone and thought she wouldn’t walk out on us in a crowd.”
“And you don’t know her well enough to say differently.”
Russell shook his head. “But I want to. I always have.”
Roman’s mother and Eric chose that moment to join them. Roman had been surprised to see his mother at the baseball game, but since she’d been with Eric again, and sitting on a blanket the whole time, he figured she was feeling up to it. And maybe even feeling a bit better.
“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Eric said.
“Apparently, in this group, the more the merrier,” Roman muttered. He had little time left before he’d have to break down Charlotte’s door if he wanted to get her alone. “Russell, can I have a word with you?” he asked, shooting his mother a pointed, knowing glance.
“Annie, come have some lemonade. I made it myself and it’s delicious.”
“But …” Panic flared in Annie’s eyes, as if she were afraid in the five minutes she’d be gone, Russell would disappear again.
Watching Annie gave Roman better insight into Charlotte’s fears. She wasn’t anything like her insecure mother, yet he could see how she’d instilled a fear in Charlotte—the fear of becoming as needy and sadly pathetic and isolated as her own mother.
He wanted to shield her from pain and take care of her forever, but Charlotte would freeze him out before she’d let him close enough to hurt her. And the thought shook him straight to the core.
Because he loved her.
He loved her. The truth settled in his heart, warming places that had always been cold.
He admired her fierce desire to maintain herself and her individuality, to not end up like her mother. He admired the business she’d built on her own, in a town that hadn’t been prepared, yet she’d won the people over anyway. He loved how she saw the best in him even when he didn’t deserve it. He loved everything about her.
Viewing her deepest pain up close forced him to acknowledge his feelings. Feelings that had to come second to Charlotte’s needs or he’d risk losing her forever. He’d tell her, but the timing had to be right.
It was beyond him how he’d know when that was. Roman’s family was hardly setting an example of functional relationships. Chase was hanging out with the single guys from the paper, drinking beer, talking sports, and sleeping with the occasional good-time woman and never getting involved. Rick rescued women, and right now he was playing Prince Charming to Beth Hansen until she got over her broken engagement and was ready to move on. Then he’d move on as well to the next woman in his life.
Roman shook his head, knowing he didn’t have the role models to look to for answers. He was on his own.
“No buts,” Eric cut in, speaking to Annie, his voice somehow soothing yet authoritative at the same time. “I have to insist you taste Raina’s drink. Besides, Raina isn’t supposed to spend too much time on her feet, and I’d appreciate you taking her back to the blanket until I can get there.”
“Go on, Annie.” Russell patted her arm and eased himself out of her grasp.
Once the trio had disappeared, Roman faced Charlotte’s father. “I don’t have much time.”
“I realize that. But you should know life is more complicated than any of you”—Russell swept his arm around, gesturing to the ball field and hence the people of the town—“can understand.”
In his pained expression, Roman didn’t see the self-absorbed actor who’d abandoned his family for fame and fortune. Instead he saw an aging man who’d lost much. Roman let out a groan. “It’s not any of us who needs to understand. It’s your daughter.” He pinned Russell with a steady gaze. “If you really care, I hope you’ll take the time during this trip to prove it.”
“She’d have to be willing to listen.”
Roman shrugged. “Make her listen.” After a last glare, Roman took off for the parking lot at a run, intending to take his own advice.
“It’s time, Annie.” Russell Bronson sat on the picnic blanket loaned to him by Raina Chandler. After the four of them had talked, Eric had taken Raina home, leaving Russell and Annie alone. Russell remembered Raina as a kind neighbor, a good mother to her three boys, and a friend to his wife. Obviously things hadn’t changed.
And that was the problem, Russ thought. Nothing had changed. From the day he married Annie Wilson, the girl he’d fallen in love with in fifth grade, until now, everything in Annie’s world had stayed the same.
She curled her legs beneath her and stared out at the players on the field. “I’m not sure it will make a difference,” she said at last.
Neither was he, but all they could do was try. Russell patted his pocket and felt for the paper he’d taken
from Dr. Eric Fallon. Before taking his leave, Eric had spoken to both Russell and Annie as her doctor. Annie was depressed, he’d said. Clinically, most probably.
Why hadn’t Russell realized it before? He’d like to think it was because he wasn’t a doctor, but he was man enough to acknowledge his own faults. He was selfish and self-centered. His desires had always come first. He’d never slowed down long enough to consider why Annie spoke and acted the way she did. He’d just accepted Annie, same as she’d accepted him.
Depression, he thought once more. Something Charlotte had picked up on and called Dr. Fallon about. Now it was up to Russell to ask Annie to get herself help. He shook his head and silently thanked his beautiful, headstrong daughter for realizing what he hadn’t.
His daughter. A woman with a combination of disdain, fear, and vulnerability in her eyes. He’d caused each emotion. And he despised himself for it. But he had a chance now to correct many wrongs. Starting with Annie and ending with his daughter.
Annie hadn’t responded to his declaration. It was time. And he’d lead her there any way he had to, Russell thought. “How does Charlotte feel about Roman Chandler?”
Annie tipped her head to the side. Her soft hair fell to her shoulders and the urge to run his fingers through the jet-black strands was strong. Always had been.
“Same as I feel about you. Charlotte’s destined to repeat the pattern. He’ll go, he’ll return. And she’ll be here when he does. It’s in our genes.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if that possibility didn’t bother her at all. She was too complacent, too accepting—and he’d taken advantage of that, he realized now.
Whether he’d known she was clinically depressed or not, he’d used her complacency as an excuse to come and go as he pleased. He shook his head, disgusted with himself.
He couldn’t change the past, but he didn’t want the same future for his daughter. “I disagree,” he said, fighting Annie’s description of Charlotte and Roman. “But she is destined to end up alone, pushing away any man who doesn’t choose to settle in Yorkshire Falls.”
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