Nearly twelve years between them. When he talked with her, listened to her laugh and flirt with him, it felt like nothing to worry about. He loved her youthfulness. But sometimes, when he thought of how he might feel or look physically ten years from now—or even worse, what she’d feel when she looked at him …
His mother had left his father—and in many ways him—for a younger man. His own wife had gone looking for happiness elsewhere. Why in the hell wouldn’t Charlotte feel the same eventually?
Why were there so many damn strikes against them?
“What are you thinking about?” a husky voice said against his chest. Charlotte turned her body and rested her chin on his chest. Her eyes were still slightly swollen and red, her lips full.
“Nothing important. Work.”
Her eyebrows rose as if she wasn’t sure if she believed him. Smart girl. He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.
“Your chest hair is almost grown.” She ran her nails through it until her hand came up to his mouth, and he kissed her index finger. “I like it this length.”
“Well, don’t think for one minute I’m going to start trimming it to maintain.”
“Not even for me?” she teased, her lip going into a pout.
God, he’d do anything for her. He wanted to do everything for her.
“You may have to entice me,” he said.
“I’m sure I could do that.” Her grin was wicked as she lowered her hand under the sheet.
“I’m afraid you may find me … unenticeable at the moment. A perk of reaching your forties.”
She yanked her hand up and gently slapped his chest. “Will you stop acting like you’re old? I just had the most amazing sex of my life with the hottest guy I’ve ever met.”
Crawling up his body, she dropped her head down and kissed him before continuing with her speech. “Everything about your body turns me on.”
Her breasts hovered over his chest and he filled his hands with their fullness, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. “It can’t turn you on nearly as much as your body does me.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered.
They kissed for a long moment, her mouth so sweet and wet.
When she finally rocked back on her heels, he let his hands drop to the bed.
“Can I still take you to dinner?” Dean asked, glancing at the clock beside her bed. It was ten thirty, but there would be something open.
“Well, I don’t turn down free food on principle. And I’m starving. Crying and sex really work up an appetite—and no, I don’t make a habit of doing them together.”
“And here that sounded so exciting,” he teased.
Charlotte laughed as she got out of the bed. Dean loved that she was so free and unashamed of her nudity around him as she picked up her clothes and began to dress. She was as lovely as a woman could be, her hips full and breasts lush enough to just spill over his hands. It was hard to imagine a woman as perfect as she was had just let him have his way with her.
“I hope you don’t mind waiting about fifteen minutes. I’m kind of anal about downloading my shoot and backing it up as soon as I can. Peace of mind and all that.”
“Of course.” Dean sat up and began to search for his own clothes.
“Okay, I’ll be in my office.” She pointed toward the door and what he assumed was across the hall. “Won’t take long.”
He nodded and watched her go, then began to gather his things. He used the restroom, got dressed, then went in search of her.
“Come look,” Charlotte said as he stepped into her office.
She sat at a big desk that held two large monitors. Her office was very her, the walls painted a pale gray, a bright-turquoise antique-looking sofa on the far wall. Above it were several different-sized canvas images of brides and grooms, babies, and even what appeared to be a high school student. Charlotte was incredibly talented.
Walking over to her desk, he saw that the screen was filled with images of Tara and her husband. The photos were breathtaking, Tara in a flowy white dress, Ben holding her close, the sun setting behind them all golden and bright.
“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Charlotte asked.
“She does.” Dean forced himself to touch her shoulder. Tara did look beautiful, but he could only think of how hard it must have been for Charlotte to be dealing with this on such a difficult day.
“I was worried about having this shoot today,” she said quietly. “But I’m glad I did it.”
“Yeah? How come?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair.
“It was a good reminder that miracles happen. I need to stop worrying about being pregnant in the future. It will happen when it’s meant to happen.”
Dean felt his chest tighten at her words. He forced his expression to stay neutral when she turned to look up at him. He couldn’t deny his relief when she quickly smiled and change the subject.
“Want to see something that will make me look ridiculous?” Charlotte asked. She clicked the sorting software shut and opened her photo files. She clicked through a few things until she opened a series of photos. “I can’t believe I’m going to show you this.”
Dean looked closer. “Is that me?”
She turned and looked up at him, grinning. “Every single one.”
He laughed and before he could lean over, Charlotte stood in her chair and motioned for him to sit. As soon as he did, she rested her butt on his thigh, so comfortable and easy with him, it took his breath away. Even more so when he realized she had at least thirty pictures of him during weddings she’d shot at the Stag.
“You are such a sneaky girl,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Is that one of just my ass?”
“Of course it is.” She laughed as she clicked it open, making it take up nearly the entire screen. He was at the bar, talking to Jen. Charlotte had apparently been close to the dance floor, a time he would have no doubt assumed she was photographing the guests dancing. But no, instead she’d been focused in on him. Mostly he appeared to be in the background of her intended shots, but for a few she’d zoomed right in on him, without him having a clue.
“I confess sometimes I like to watch you,” he whispered into her ear. “While you’re working.”
Charlotte turned on his lap, looping one arm around his neck. “Obviously I watch you, too. Constantly.”
“For how long?” he asked.
“Since the beginning.”
He inhaled deep, their eyes staring at each other.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Since the moment I first met you.”
Charlotte bit at her bottom lip, holding back a smile as her hand found its way into his lap. “Do you think you’re still unenticeable?”
He chuckled, leaning his head against hers. There was no letting this woman go. At least not willingly. But how in the hell could he convince her he was enough, damaged and all?
Twenty-Five
Dean walked into the office he shared with his two co-owners and sat down next to TJ’s desk.
“Did you see that order that came in this morning?” he asked.
“I did. Crazy.”
“I expected Pete to order, but I never dreamed it would be so big,” Dean said. Pete Schumer was the owner of Schumer Liquor, one of the biggest liquor store chains in the metro area.
“I was going to ask you if you thought we’d be able to fill it.”
“I think so, but I told Jake to inform suppliers from here on out that we’re probably looking at a month out on reorders.”
“You don’t think we should limit him?” TJ asked. “He wanted two cases per store. We could tell him just one. Or maybe he will only do certain stores for the first month.”
“Irritating Pete seems like a gamble.”
TJ shrugged. “Agreed. But if I know Pete, the idea that demand is high and supply is low will keep him on the hook no matter what. Especially if people like the product.”
Dean glared at TJ,
who was grinning. “You know damn well the product is solid.”
“I do. Or I wouldn’t be here. So what do we do? We’ve erred on the safe side and figured a hundred cases for this first batch. I planned on one for the uncask party, and since we limited our bar and restaurant account to only three bottles on the first batch, that will leave us with less than seventy-five cases.”
“How many stores does Pete have?”
“Twenty-two.”
Dean nodded, his brain spinning. “We need at least twenty cases to get Jake started with his first trip this summer.” Jake was taking The Stag Wagon—which was currently being renovated as a whiskey-tasting party bus—on a tour of summer festivals starting in July.
“That answers our question then. We’ll have to tell Pete one case per store until the next batch. It won’t be that long, only a month.”
“Yeah. Maybe we can convince him to let us do some special promotion. Let him be the only liquor store with it for the first few days or so.”
“I think he’ll go for that. Want me to call Mel?”
Mel was Pete’s daughter, and buyer. “Yeah, do that and let me know what she says.”
“My answer is Only if you show me yours first,” a flirty voice said from the doorway.
Dean and TJ both turned at the same time to find Jen walking toward them. She dragged Dean’s desk chair over to where they were seated and joined them.
“Don’t act all weird, I was just kidding.” Today Jen wore a tank top, showing off her ink-covered shoulder. Sometimes he almost forgot she had those tattoos, and as brassy as her personality was, you’d have thought that amount of ink showing would make her look tough, but on her it seemed to have the opposite effect. She looked really pretty today—soft, almost.
“We were talking about Mel Schumer,” TJ said. He turned to Dean. “I’d be happy to call her. She’s always fun to talk to.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at TJ. He was obviously trying to make Jen jealous, and by the way she glared at him, lips twisted, he’d done a fine job. Interesting.
“Okay then, that’s settled. Let me know what she says,” Dean replied. He was just waiting for what would come out of Jen’s mouth next. Maybe he could distract her. “What are you doing here on a weekday, Jen? Paychecks are tomorrow.”
“I know. I actually needed to talk to you.” She looked around. “Is Jake here?”
“He has the day off. Why?” There was a hint of concern in TJ’s voice.
“Well, I had an idea.” Jen shifted in her seat, which was unlike her. She gave a sideways glance to TJ. “I know I’m not always … super fun to talk to. But what would you guys think about letting me take Tara’s job until her leave’s over?”
Dean’s eyes widened and he quickly turned to TJ, who appeared just as shocked as he was. “Don’t you work at the community theater during the week?”
“I did. It’s closing. Funding was cut off.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that job.” TJ’s voice was full of real concern. So much for sticking it to her.
“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?”
Dean looked at TJ once more, who was staring intently at Jen. If he knew his friend, it was killing him to see the woman he cared for so upset about her situation. Jen was obsessed with musical theater. It was her passion, and she’d mentioned several times just wanting to drop everything and move to a bigger city where she could pursue it. But Dean knew that with her mother’s health in question she never would. Jen might be many things—loud, mouthy, frustrating—but she was loyal and had a soft side when she wanted to show it.
“I don’t know what you made at the theater, but Tara’s hourly wage wasn’t anything to brag about,” TJ said. “Ben’s income pays their bills.”
“Well, a small income is a far cry better than none.” Jen looked nervous, something Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever really seen before. Even in her sweet moments she never lacked confidence. “Besides, it wasn’t like I was working at the theater because I was making a fortune.”
“I know that, but you loved it,” TJ said. He met Dean’s eyes, and the look on the guy’s face left no doubt. He wanted to give Jen the job.
“Jen, what will you do when Tara comes back?” Dean asked. It was a valid question.
“Well … I guess there’s the possibility that … my mother will have passed and then I’ll move to Chicago or New York where theater is only slightly more lucrative. Not that I want that. I don’t. I mean, not until we’ve done all we can.”
“Jen, we know you love your mother.” TJ leaned forward, and Dean could tell the guy wanted to touch her. He wouldn’t, but how could she not tell?
“I’ll let TJ be the bad guy if he’s so inclined, but I’m for it.” Dean knew TJ was grateful when he sighed with relief.
“The job is yours.”
Jen sat up straighter in her chair, a little of her Jen fire gaining some brightness. “Thank you, guys. I promise I’ll leave my bullshit antics at the door.”
“Nothing you do is bullshit. We wouldn’t employ you if that was the case.”
Dean could call bullshit on that statement, but he didn’t contradict TJ. They did love Jen—some of them more than others—she was just … high-maintenance.
“When can I start, then? How about today?”
TJ looked at Dean, who just shrugged.
“Awesome!” Her grin was wide, and Dean couldn’t help smiling back. It felt good to do this for Jen. Tara would also have approved. “I’ll need one of you goofs to come train me. I’ll be at my desk.”
She was gone. Dean gave TJ a long glance. “No bullshit, huh? Isn’t that what you said?”
TJ shook his head. “Jen is Jen.”
“Yes, that is true, which is why I was happy to do this for her. You gonna be okay working with her every day?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
Dean tilted his head. “Come on, man. It’s me, here.”
TJ sighed. “I know, and yes. I will be fine. I’ve been fine this long.”
That was hardly an admission, but even those words surprised Dean. “You have. But honestly, I’m not sure why you don’t … tell her.”
“Right.”
Dean was about to argue with him when Jen popped her head back in.
“Who is the super-hot new guy?” she asked, her eyes alight.
TJ gave Dean an I-told-you-so glance before he answered. “It’s actually Charlotte Linley’s ex. Dean gave him an apprenticeship.”
“What? Are you kidding me? She let that guy get away? Dean, you’re crazy for letting your girl be around that kind of eye candy.”
She darted off, presumably to find a way to put herself in John’s path. Dean looked at TJ, who was practically scowling. Yep, now they were both pissed.
Dean’s phone rang. When he picked it up and saw the name of his doctor’s office his heart sank.
* * *
Charlotte ended the call with an author looking for someone to shoot her next cover. She was ecstatic to get the job, which required a male and a female in a rather compromising situation. Tasteful, of course, but super sexy. She knew she could do it, and the author was wonderful and charming so far.
Now she just needed to pick the models. Strangely enough, the way the author described the hero, she’d immediately thought of John. Handsome but somewhat boyish good looks. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pull that off, or if he’d even want to. The other problem would be finding the female. But she’d worry about that later. The cover didn’t need to be done for six months so she had plenty of time.
Her phone began to buzz and play “Honey, Honey.” She grinned from ear to ear, knowing it was Dean. Things had been going so well between them, and she realized she hadn’t been this happy in a long time.
“Hi, you.” There was no keeping the excitement out of her voice.
“Hi, you back. Busy?” he asked.
“Well, I just booked another cover shoot so I’m very excit
ed about that.”
“Good for you. I wondered if you could be free this afternoon?”
Charlotte couldn’t help but notice he sounded a bit down. “Of course. What do you have in mind?” She asked, going for sexy.
His voice lowered. “I like what you’re implying. However … I need a favor.”
Sitting up straight, her brow furrowed. “Okay, what?”
“Well, I just got a call from Amy. My ex. I guess Alex’s dress is in and she wants me to come and look at it.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Why do you sound irritated? Don’t you want to see it?”
“Definitely. I just … I don’t want to see her. And it’s been kind of a rough day. That’s all. But seeing you will make it better. Plus I thought you might like to see the dress.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’re having a bad day. Want to talk about it?”
“No, it’s fine. Just work stress.”
She considered pushing because she didn’t quite believe that. He always had work stress, but he sounded so sad. Maybe she could get him to share once they were face-to-face. “I would love to see the dress. I’d also love to see you, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not a teensy bit curious about seeing Amy as well. Don’t judge me.”
Dean chuckled. “At least you don’t have to work with my ex.”
“So true. I don’t think I could do it.”
“I have two calls this afternoon. Do you mind if we meet?”
“No problem.” Charlotte wrote down the time and the name of the shop.
Once she hung up, she sighed down at the paper. She truly was excited to see Dean, but the location made her pause.
She’d unfortunately been to this dress shop before. About five years ago.
Twenty-Six
Charlotte hadn’t known what to expect when she finally saw Amy Troyer. It did irritate her just a little bit to hear that the woman had kept Dean’s name. She couldn’t help it. A name felt like it implied some kind of ownership. Some lasting, unbreakable connection. On top of that, Amy was very attractive, in the perfect-makeup, polished-outfit, super-white-teeth kind of way.
Maybe it was the air of maturity about her, the easy way she laughed and familiar way she touched Dean’s arm at the same time, or possibly the slight smirk she’d given Charlotte when they were introduced. But something about her made Charlotte feel uneasy.
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