by Pamela Stone
“You have my cell number if you need anything.” He opened the back door and made his escape.
Charlotte stared at the door and felt a chunk of her heart go with him. He hadn’t stormed off, but his leaving was different tonight. This was the beginning of goodbye.
BY THE THIRD NIGHT AARON didn’t come home, Charlotte was climbing the walls. The bungalow was immaculate and quiet, excruciatingly quiet. Everything in its place, everything except the man who belonged in her bed.
The kitchen clock read six-forty-five and she didn’t have a single thing on the agenda to fill the evening. She’d talked to the security manager, but he’d told her to go home. They had Perry’s every action on tape and would let her know if he did anything suspect.
The old Charlotte would have still been at her desk, but those days were over. There had to be more to life than work, or what was the purpose?
This was ridiculous! Aaron was most likely at The Green Gecko having a good time with his friends. She didn’t have to sit here alone. She had as much right as he did to have dinner out.
THE GECKO, AS AARON CALLED IT, vibrated with sound. A wannabe Jennifer Lopez gyrated and crooned on the little platform in the corner. Patrons wandered in and out off the street. The wooden tables were crowded with people drinking and laughing. Even the bar was packed. Charlotte searched every table, but she couldn’t spot Aaron. Someone vacated a stool and she quickly took a seat.
The bartender sauntered over, polishing a glass. “What’ll it be?”
“Just a bottle of water, please.” She continued to scan the faces for her husband. But without the benefit of air-conditioning, the cloud of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. A sultry ocean breeze filtered into the open-air bar. A hodgepodge of mounted fish, snapshots of boats and a tattered poster of Ernest Hemingway covered the walls.
The bartender twisted the cap off an Evian and set it in front of her. “He’s already come and gone.”
“Excuse me?” She looked closer. “I’m sorry. You were at the wedding, right?”
“Raul.” He nodded and set the glass he was polishing under the bar.
“Did he say where he was going?”
Raul grabbed the money the guy next to her left and deposited it in the register. “Just said he had things to do. Wasn’t too talkative.”
“Doesn’t care to talk to me, either,” she said, studying her tarnished wedding ring as she reached for the frosty water bottle. “Maybe he went back to the Free Wind.”
“Maybe,” Raul said.
She lingered over her water, keeping an eye peeled in case Aaron returned. She must be a glutton for punishment. Even if he did care for her, this relationship was no more than a good time for him. Still she refused to go back to that empty bungalow. Her stomach growled. “What do you have on the menu for dinner?”
“Aaron had a bowl of seafood gumbo.” Raul’s mouth twitched as if he wanted to grin. “Have you considered the possibility that he might care too much?”
Had she been thinking aloud? “How can someone care too much?” Her logical nature wasn’t buying that theory.
The bartender just shrugged.
Sitting here and discussing her relationship with Aaron’s friend wasn’t the plan. She spotted a tiny table in the corner and picked up her water. “Could you have someone bring a bowl of gumbo over there, please?”
She grabbed the table before two fishermen could and sat. She might not want to be alone, but she didn’t want to be grilled, either. She placed her water on the table and hung her purse over the back of the wooden chair.
“You know, men like Aaron aren’t good at considering how women feel,” Rosa said as she placed a large bowl of gumbo and four cellophane packages of crackers in front of Charlotte. “But he’s a good man. You could do worse.”
Her cheeks burned. Did everyone on the island know about her relationship with Aaron? “Yeah, he’s just great.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Rosa sat in the opposite chair and adjusted the neckline on her red satin blouse. “So why don’t you look happy?” Her pouty lips and long nails were manicured a deep red to match the blouse. Rosa obviously knew her way around men, and she knew Aaron. How depressing. The only thing Charlotte knew about men was how much she didn’t know.
“I am happy.” She spooned a bite of gumbo and fought to keep her problems to herself. Couldn’t a lady come into a bar to have dinner without half the people butting into her business?
“Honey, between you and Aaron, I don’t know who looks more miserable.”
Aaron looked miserable? She dropped the spoon and pushed the bowl away without finishing it. “I need a drink.”
Rosa snapped her fingers at Raul. “A large pitcher of frozen margaritas and bring out the good tequila.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at Rosa and picked up her spoon. She’d lost her appetite, but it wasn’t a good idea to sit here and drink on an empty stomach.
Raul plunked two salt-rimmed glasses on the table and nudged Rosa. “You behave or a certain scuba guide will be up your ass.”
“Bring the pitcher.” Rosa gave his butt a quick pat.
Charlotte spooned another bite of gumbo and tried to stay calm. She shouldn’t have come here. With all the restaurants and bars on the island, she could have had dinner anywhere. But she tortured herself at the one dive where everyone knew Aaron.
A young waitress plunked a pitcher of green slush on the table and her heavily made-up blue eyes glanced over Charlotte with obvious curiosity.
Rosa waved her away, filled both glasses to the brim, and pushed one toward Charlotte. “This will make you feel better.”
She took a drink. The icy liquid both burned and froze her tonsils on its way down. She put a hand to her throat to thaw it out. Raul must have used a half bottle of his expensive tequila.
“Lick the salt,” Rosa suggested, taking her own advice.
She touched her tongue to the salt, then chased it with another drink of margarita. The second one went down more smoothly. “So tell me about men, Rosa.”
“About men? Or about Aaron?”
It was totally inappropriate to discuss her relationship with an employee. Rosa managed the resort boutique. What if she couldn’t keep her mouth shut? “Aaron.” She took another gulp of the wonderful slush.
Rosa shook her head. “If you want to know about Aaron, maybe you should ask him.”
Fury bubbled to the surface like a long smoldering volcano. Charlotte grabbed her glass, licked the rim, and swallowed half the contents. “What makes you think he’d talk to me? He won’t even stay at the bungalow.” Well, that sounded like a whiny wife.
“Mejia.” Rosa took a long drink of her own margarita. “If you want Aaron, you’ve got to let him know. Tell him how you feel.”
True panic set in. Tell him how she felt, knowing he didn’t return her love? No way.
“How do you feel about your husband, mejia?” Rosa’s soft voice coaxed.
Feelings trembled through Charlotte in total chaos. Fury, confusion, love. “I love him, Rosa.” She swallowed a frozen lump blocking her throat and it wasn’t slushy margarita.
“Okay? So, what’s wrong with that?” Rosa narrowed her eyes. “He’s your husband.”
Charlotte sniffed and rubbed one hand under her eyes. “It’s all an act. We’re not really married. I mean we are, but it isn’t real.” She jabbed her hands through her hair. “We both had our own reasons to pretend.”
Rosa filled both glasses. “But you’re not pretending any longer?”
“I messed up and fell in love.” Charlotte drank and put her glass down. The room spun, but she ignored it. “Every day I can’t wait to get home and see him.”
“Does he know you’re in love with him?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I can’t tell him.”
Rosa swirled her drink in the glass and studied it as it sloshed dangerously close to the rim. “Why not? He might surprise you.”
She took
a sip for courage. “He’s made his feelings clear. He has no desire to have a family and spend the rest of his life connected to me. Aaron can have—has had—his pick of women.” She swallowed another sip. The room was definitely spinning. “Isn’t this stupid? I’m in love with my husband and can’t tell him.”
Rosa ran one red-tipped finger around the rim of her empty glass until it sang. “Don’t try to make love logical. I’m divorced three times and still half in love with two of them.”
Charlotte followed the direction of Rosa’s gaze, not sure she’d heard her correctly. “Raul?”
“Of course. Such a sexy hunk. We just get along better when we aren’t married.”
Charlotte slugged down the rest of her drink. “Wow!”
Rosa refilled their glasses. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
She swirled the green slush. “What do I do?”
Rosa clicked her glass against Charlotte’s. “We’re going to rock Aaron’s world. Leave it to me.”
Charlotte frowned at the giant marlin mounted on the back wall. Was it swimming toward her? “You don’t understand. I paid Aaron to marry me. It’s a business arrangement.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t fall in love.”
“I’ll soon be living in Boston and helping my grandfather run the business.”
“Is that what you really want?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I…I don’t know.”
“Do you want to make your marriage work?”
She downed the rest of her drink. “Oh, God, yes.”
Rosa leaned back and drained her own glass. “Then we have work to do.”
WHEN AARON ARRIVED AT THE Gecko, he found Charlie and Rosa huddled together at a small table in the back whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. An empty pitcher sat between them and two large margarita glasses were stacked one on top of the other.
When Raul called and told him he needed to come pick up his drunken wife, he hadn’t believed him. Luckily, he knew Charlie kept the spare key to her Volvo in the nightstand.
Rosa waved at him, stood, and grabbed the pitcher. “Hey, good-lookin’. How about jogging over to the bar and refilling this for two sexy ladies?”
He caught the pitcher she tossed in his direction. “Looks to me like these two sexy ladies have had enough for one night.” Charlie had both elbows propped on the table and was literally holding her head up. She was barely conscious.
Rosa strolled around him as if she were checking out a side of beef. He looked to make sure his fly was zipped.
She came to a stop in front of him and winked. “If you’ll spring for another pitcher, you can join our party.”
What was going on here? Charlie and Rosa were drunk as sailors and it wasn’t even midnight. He slipped his arm around Charlie and pulled her to her feet. “I think it’s time my wife went home.”
Charlie tried to stand, but she was as limp as a rag doll. It had been a long time since he’d been that drunk, but he remembered the feeling distinctly. He scooped her into his arms and gave Rosa a scowl. “You can catch the tab on this little party.”
Charlie focused her glassy stare on him and twirled the front of his hair with her finger. “That little curl gives you a sexy, rakish look,” she slurred.
“Rakish, huh?” She looked messy and adorable.
Rosa caught his arm. “Charlotte’s a wunnerful woman.”
What had triggered that? “Yes, she is.”
“You hurt my boss and you’ll have me to reckon with, buster.” She wagged a finger in his face.
It was all he could do not to laugh. “I’m shaking in my sneakers.”
She nodded as if that settled everything, and then mumbled, “You should. Ms. Harrington wants a hunk, then Ms. Harrington should have a hunk.”
He headed toward the door for a second time. Charlie blew a silky tendril of hair out of her eyes. “Where’re you taking me?”
“Home.”
Rosa gave Charlie the thumbs-up.
Charlie tried to wink, but both eyes closed. “Cool.”
Raul said they’d been together all evening. Aaron narrowed his eyes at Rosa and lugged his wife toward the Volvo, barely resisting the urge to toss her over his shoulder like a he-man with his wench. He grinned at how Charlotte Harrington Brody would take to that.
She was deadweight when he tried to pull her out of the car at the bungalow. He picked her up again and carried her into the house. He flipped on the light, steadied her in a sitting position on the bed, and grabbed a nightshirt out of the drawer. By the time he finally maneuvered her into bed and smoothed the sheet up, she was almost asleep.
“Kiss.” She puckered her pretty lips. “Knight in shining armor always kisses princess.”
He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she was mixing up her fairy tales. He smoothed the hair back from her face and brushed her lips with his. “Good night, princess.”
He turned out the light and shook his head. Charlie and Rosa? Charlie might be a rookie in the romance game, but Rosa was a seasoned general. He was in deep shit with her switching her allegiance to Charlie’s team.
Chapter Seventeen
Aaron hesitated outside the bungalow door. He rolled his shoulders to scratch the itch from his black shirt. He’d been suspicious since Charlie had insisted he let her make him dinner as repayment for looking after her the night before.
Something didn’t feel right. There was more to the itch than a starched shirt.
He opened the door and the succulent aroma of prime rib made his mouth water. Candles and flickering firelight cast shadows across a white linen cloth spread on the floor and covered with china and sparkling crystal.
Before he could digest that, Charlie strolled out of the kitchen. At least he thought it was her. She flipped a mass of curls over her shoulder. Bare feet peeped from beneath a flowing tropical skirt and the loose white halter was like nothing he’d ever seen. One shoulder was strapless and the shadow of her dark nipples teased him through the thin cotton.
He licked his lips as a sharp ache hit his gut. He swallowed and forced his stare to move upward to her face.
Rosa was behind this. Charlie shifted her shoulders and pink glossy lips curved up in an enticing smile. “Hi.”
“Char—” He cleared his throat. “Charlie?”
Her smile faltered a second and she leaned forward to place a silver ice bucket on the corner of the tablecloth. Her top fell away and he gulped at the glimpse of bare breast.
“Hope you don’t mind eating here?” She straightened and smoothed her skirt down her flat stomach. Her hands framed the V of her pubic area before sliding slowly down her thighs.
Charlie wouldn’t do that on purpose. Would she?
“—relaxing end to a long day.” He had no idea what she’d been saying. A roar that had nothing to do with the sound of the surf through the open windows echoed in his ears. He should get out of here while he had a chance. Every night he spent with Charlie made leaving more difficult. Damn Rosa.
Charlie’s gaze raked over him. “Get comfortable.”
“Okay.” He kicked his docksiders in the corner, but he felt anything but comfortable. He couldn’t stop staring at the sexy sway of her hips as she glided in and out of the kitchen, arranging a feast on the tablecloth in front of the fire.
She came out balancing two plates and flashed him a sexy little grin. “Don’t just stand there. Open the wine.” A mysterious, almost smile played at the corners of her mouth. Oh, God. Why hadn’t he made a run for the door when he had the chance? This evening was going to be a drill in self-control. How was he supposed to keep his distance when she’d turned into a sexy gypsy seductress?
“Aaron, are you all right?”
Snapping out of his thoughts, he lowered himself to the floor and grabbed the corkscrew. “I figured we’d go out.” He sounded like a tongue-tied kid.
Charlie added a basket of bread and sat beside him, bending one knee under her and not bothering to pull he
r flowing skirt below midthigh where it had landed. “You’re always cooking for me. Thought you might enjoy a change.”
Rod Stewart played at a muted volume in the background about tonight being the night. Not Charlie’s typical playlist.
He handed her a glass of wine and noticed that her nails were painted bright pink. Who was this woman? “Like your hair.”
Twisting a curl between two fingers, she looked sheepish. “You do? I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but the stylist insisted that I’d feel like a new woman.”
New woman? She was a sizzling temptress. He resisted the urge to ask if Rosa had chosen the outfit. “It’s nice.” Nice? Geesh, what was he, fifteen? Her hair was everything but nice. Sexy, seductive, untamed, wicked—
She picked up her fork and stabbed a bite of chilled shrimp cocktail. “Thanks,” she said as she methodically coated the pink morsel in sauce. She gazed into his eyes as she slowly brought it to her lips, closed her eyes and moaned.
Breathe, Brody. It was just shrimp. He adjusted his position and focused on his own salad. Maybe a drink of wine? Or the whole bottle.
Aaron tried to ignore her, but never in his life had he seen a woman make a simple meal seem so erotic. He topped off his wine, but Charlie had barely taken a sip of hers.
She used each morsel to torture him. The steak was tender and juice dribbled on her lips. But instead of using a napkin, she snaked her tongue out to swipe it away. Minutes passed in a daze as he pictured her adept tongue licking his chin and working her way down every inch of his body. Dammit! Charlie brought her glass to her lips and hesitated ever so slowly before taking a dainty sip. Even that turned him on.
He wiped his mouth and leaned back on his elbows, trying to look anywhere but at Charlie’s butt as she sashayed to the kitchen. She returned with crème brûlée and knelt at his side, her breasts brushing his arm. Heat rocketed through him kicking his overloaded libido into overdrive.
She stared into his eyes, scooped a small bite and held it to his lips. “See what you think. Pierre is a master.”