“Yeah, I guess it helps it hold together. We can start with the salad and wine.”
Dean looked around and nodded. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
He’d left work right after Charlotte had driven away so he could go home and prepare. He’d called Alex to tell her and she’d immediately taken to the Internet for a recipe. Dean had run to the grocery store because although she was up for the dinner, Alex still hadn’t wanted to leave the house. Baby steps, he figured. Although if she didn’t leave eventually he’d have to try something. She hadn’t stepped outside in over a week. Maybe more.
Alex went off to her room to change and Dean went into his own room to grab a new shirt. The one he’d been wearing had acquired a nice tomato sauce stain. Not long after that they set out the salad and wine, and Alex pulled the dish out of the oven.
“I’m glad you did this,” she said as she put the bread in the oven. “It’s kind of taken my mind off myself for a while.”
“Good, I’m happy to hear that.” Dean ruffled her hair and she scowled at him. Those moments gave him some hope that Alex would someday be back to her old self.
When a knock sounded at the door, Alex stiffened. “We didn’t discuss how we’re going to do this.”
“Well, she’ll come in and I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh yeah. Of course.” She shook her head and followed Dean into the living room. “Should I stand? Sit?”
Dean turned to her, laughing. This was so unlike her. Maybe it was because she’d never witnessed him with any other woman but Amy. “Alexis. Chill the hell out.”
He opened the door to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever known standing on his stoop. The sun was just now meeting the treetops, and her hair glowed in the golden light. It made him think of the night they’d made out next to the old Harley. The night everything changed.
“Hey, come in.” Dean stood back so she could pass him and couldn’t help inhaling her delicious scent.
“Hi, you must be Alex. I feel like I know you.” Dean watched in awe and a deep feeling of painful satisfaction as Charlotte walked right over to his sister, without him saying a word, and gave her a long, tight hug.
He didn’t mistake the quiet sound of Alex sniffling against Charlotte, but before he could apologize or say anything, Charlotte spoke first, a hint of tears in her voice.
“I’m so sorry we have to meet under these circumstances. I’d have much rather been able to show you all the beautiful things we’d planned for you both in person.”
Oh no. Dean cringed as Alex cried harder, squeezing this woman she’d never met before. Charlotte only rocked from side to side gently, patting Alex’s back. And Dean stood there completely dumbfounded and helpless.
“Since that isn’t possible, I brought you a gift,” Charlotte said quietly. “Can I show you?”
Alex pulled back, nodding her head as she reached for the one of three rolls of toilet paper she used to blow her nose, scattered around the living room. One was always near her.
Charlotte sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. Alex sat immediately, and Dean walked a few steps closer since both of the women had forgotten his existence in that moment.
Pulling a square-shaped, flat box from her bag, Charlotte laid it in Alex’s lap but didn’t take her hand off the top. “I don’t know if you want to look at this yet. But someday you might. Throughout the planning, I took photos with my phone. They’re not great, as I’d mainly done it for referencing and planning. But I’ve assembled them and had them put in this album. The food, the flowers, the venue, the … places I wanted to take you for portraits. All in here. It would have been a beautiful day, and I wanted you to know what it would have been like. You should know.”
Dean held his breath, wondering how Alex would react. Was this a good idea? Wouldn’t it have been better to just pretend the wedding had never been planned at all?
When Alex went still, looking down at the box and sliding her finger across the ribbon on top, Dean felt his heart sink. “Charlotte—”
“Can I look now?” Alex looked up at Dean. “Is that okay?”
“Are you sure, Alex?” Dean asked.
“Yes. I want to. I need to.”
He glanced to Charlotte, who nodded. “Okay. Open it.” He walked over and sat down on the sofa beside Charlotte. He could barely keep himself from touching her.
They watched as Alex slowly untied the ribbon, opened the box, and pulled out a small album. It was no bigger than five inches square and it had the words ALEXIS & NATE written in the middle of the cover. At the sight of it, Alex lifted her fingers to her mouth and just stared for a long moment.
Finally, she glanced over at Charlotte and gave a teary smile. “I already love it.”
“I’m glad,” Charlotte whispered, and in that moment Dean could no longer help himself. He leaned forward and placed his lips against her head, just behind her temple. He felt her stiffen, but then slowly she leaned against him, pressing her body back toward his. In that moment, he’d never loved her more.
He loved her.
There was no denying it. He was in love with Charlotte and he wanted to give her everything he possibly had to offer. He would do whatever he could to make her happy, if she’d let him.
They watched as Alex flipped through the pages. The first was of the Stag, then a close-up of a plate of chicken piccata.
“It looks delicious,” Alex said.
“It was,” Dean said, remembering how Charlotte had fed it to him.
She oohed and ahhed at the images of the flower shop and the close-ups of varieties they’d chosen. Dean and Charlotte talked about each visit a bit, sharing details about the owners. Charlotte had included a picture of the cake samples and another close-up of the one they’d chosen. To the side was written the flavors of the cake and fillings and even a photo of the inspiration cake they’d liked in the photo album at Jill’s house.
There were photos of the decorations and centerpieces that Charlotte had been assembling at her house, some of which Dean hadn’t even seen. Then outdoor photos of scenery where Charlotte had planned to take their photos. One was a beautiful field full of wildflowers and the other a scenic path that led toward a forest.
Then Alex turned to the last page. It was a selfie of Charlotte in the dressing room of the bridal shop.
“I know that’s weird. I cropped out my head, but…”
“I love it,” Alex whispered. “I love it so much.”
“Amy chose it,” Charlotte said. “She did a wonderful job.”
Dean watched intently as Alexis ran her fingers over the photo. She didn’t cry this time, just stared. Finally, she turned to Charlotte. “It looks beautiful on you. Doesn’t it, Dean?”
“Of course. I saw it in person. She looked … amazing.” And she had. More beautiful than he’d ever seen her. He wished that moment hadn’t ended the way it had, with him in a daze of pain and fear.
“This is the best gift ever, Charlotte. Thank you so much, for agreeing to plan my wedding, and for this. It means everything.”
“I’m glad.”
The smell of burning garlic got Alex’s attention and she jumped up. “The bread. Let’s get in here and eat.” She ran into the kitchen, leaving them alone.
Instead of getting up, Charlotte turned and faced Dean on the couch.
“How did you know?” Dean whispered.
A sad smile formed on her mouth. “I know it’s not quite the same, but … when I miscarried, no one but John knew. Not my mother, not my friends, no one. And it was painful. Sometimes I wanted to grieve openly. I wanted to talk about what my baby might have looked like. What I might have named her. What might have been but never would be. I think sometimes you have to embrace the loss. Honor what you’ll never have by speaking of it. I just hoped Alex might feel the same.”
“I guess I’ve been doing it all wrong then. I’ve made it a point not to talk about Nate at all unless she did first. I didn’t want to
hurt her.”
“It’s a natural response. You want to protect her. But you might give her opportunities to share. I think it’s healing to get it out.”
Dean reached up and touched her hair. “You’re something else, Charlotte.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Alex called from the kitchen.
“You hungry?” Dean asked. “We made it together.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed, and yes, also starving. Photographing young, half-naked men works up an appetite.”
Twenty-Nine
Charlotte laughed when Dean practically growled at her comment about half-naked men. Maybe she should have left off the young. She patted his leg and stood. “I’m teasing you.”
She was happy to be here, and spend time with Dean and Alexis, but she wasn’t completely over her feelings of betrayal. He’d turned to Amy when he was hurting. That was hard to forget.
But it was even harder to ignore how in love she was with him. How much she wanted to be here, and hoped that this meant what she thought it might. That he wanted them to start fresh. Not as pseudo-wedding-planners or flirty business associates, but as a man and a woman who wanted a relationship together.
“Charlotte, right here.” Alexis pointed to a chair. “Dean, here.” He was to sit next to Charlotte.
They watched as she set the bread on the table and then grabbed her already loaded plate, her new album, and a fork. “And I’m going to eat in my room.”
Dean and Charlotte both instantly protested, but Alex shook her head. “I want to go spend some more time with my present—which I love so much—while you two … be together. Please.”
“Alex, we want you here.” Dean looked at Charlotte, and she instantly nodded her agreement.
“I know you do. But please, this time let me choose to do something for you. Now … don’t let me down.” Alexis gave him a wink and left the kitchen, heading down the dark hall. When they heard her bedroom door click shut, Dean turned to Charlotte.
“Well. I guess we’re alone now.”
“I guess so,” Charlotte said.
Dean pulled the lasagna closer to them and grabbed the spatula resting on the side. “Can I serve you?”
Charlotte lifted her plate. When they both had servings, they began to eat and talk about unimportant things. She complimented the food, which truly was delicious. They discussed the wine, which Dean had chosen, and even how her shoot had gone. She was pleased that despite his obvious jealousy, Dean appeared genuinely interested.
When they got closer to finishing, the conversation became stilted. Partly because she was nervous. She knew how she hoped and wanted this evening to end, but she really wasn’t confident.
She insisted on helping him take all the dishes to the sink and then put the leftovers into a dish to save. When there was nothing left to do, Dean held out his hand to her.
“Let’s go sit,” he said quietly.
“Okay.” She took his hand, grabbed her wine in the other, and allowed him to lead her back into the living room.
She liked Dean’s place. It was an apartment, but in an exclusive complex. The living area had high ceilings, a leather sofa, and some sort of dark wingback recliner. A large TV sat on the opposite wall. It was somewhat on the plain side, but she figured it was better than tacky décor. It was very him. Masculine, unadorned, but appealing.
“Is Alex going to move in with you?” Charlotte asked. Quickly she regretted the question. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like … I was fishing for information on … never mind. Just, it was an honest, curious question.”
Dean smiled. “I know. The answer is I don’t know. We haven’t talked about what her plans are past the current day. But I’ll do whatever she needs.”
“You’re a really good brother, Dean.”
“Thank you.”
They sat on the sofa once more. Close, but not touching, their legs angled together. “I’m glad you came over.” He threw one hand over the back of the sofa cushion, and his fingers instantly touched her hair. Dean seemed to like to touch her hair, which she was just fine with.
“I have to admit … I was a little confused when you asked me today. I was trying to avoid you when I stopped by.”
“I don’t blame you.” He frowned down at the leather between them for a moment before finally glancing up at her. “I acted like a dick, Charlotte. I’m sorry. I was so in my head, so … I don’t know. Getting that news from Alex…”
Charlotte laid a hand on his knee. “I understand. I do. I won’t say it didn’t hurt me a lot that you basically stopped communicating, but I tried to put myself in your situation. I knew your sister needed you. We hadn’t even been seeing each other that long so I probably shouldn’t have expected so much.”
“Yes, you should have. I let you down, Charlotte. Which is ironic, because that’s exactly what I was trying not to do.”
“What do you mean?”
* * *
Dean suddenly felt sick to his stomach, but this was it. It was time to come clean with everything that had been holding him back. If his little sister’s painful experience had taught him anything, it was that life was too damn short to worry about what-ifs.
He was going to be honest with Charlotte. After that, whatever happened between the two of them was up to her. He leaned his elbows on his knees and swallowed hard.
“Let me start over,” he said, turning his head to meet her eyes. She looked confused, and almost as nervous as he felt. “I’ve resisted this relationship between us almost every step of the way.”
Her lips pursed together, she clasped her hands. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Not because of you, Charlotte. Please understand, I’ve been attracted to you for years. You have no idea how many times I’ve adjusted the schedule so I could be the one working with you. I’ve fantasized about you a million times because everything about you attracts me, and the fact that I had a hard time with this is all on me.”
Charlotte licked at her lips, and he could tell she was confused by what he was trying to say. He needed to make his point.
“I distanced myself from you again that day we found out about Nate.”
She nodded. “Yes. You did.”
“I know I hurt you, but … I was hurting, too. And I was terrified.”
“Because of Alexis?”
Dean blew out a breath. “Partly. But … there’s more. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Charlotte.”
“You haven’t?” Her voice was so small and sad. “Are you still in love with Amy?”
“No!” Dean said a little too loudly. “Absolutely not. It’s nothing like that.”
She looked slightly relieved. “Then what have you not been honest about?”
Dean shifted, turning to face her a bit more. He reached out and touched her thumb, gently squeezing it.
“Charlotte … you told me about your miscarriage.”
Her brows narrowed. “I did. Yes.”
He nodded. “And I got the feeling that you would like to try again. To have children. You want that.”
Lips parting, she huffed out a confused sound. “Yes. Of course, I would. Why?”
When he didn’t respond right away, an awkward laugh escaped her lips and she looked away, toward the wall. “You’re making me feel stupid.”
“No, no. I’m sorry, it’s just…” He gently pulled her face back to his. “I don’t know how to say this, but, Charlotte … I can’t have children.”
She stared at him for a moment. He waited, unsure what to say next. Her mouth opened and then closed again. She glanced down at her fingers. Still she was silent.
“Do you mean…” she finally said quietly. “That you don’t want to have children?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I mean that I’m unable to. I’m … infertile, Charlotte.”
He heard her swallow, her lips twisting. A moment—that felt like an eternity—passed between them in silence. Finally she spoke. “A doct
or told you this?”
“Yes. Ten years ago … and again a few weeks ago.”
Her eyes darted up to his. “You went a few weeks ago?”
“Yes. You were right, as much as I’ve wanted you, my fear of inadequacy was holding me back. I was hoping … things had changed, I guess. You’ve made a few comments that led me to believe you want kids very much. I can’t tell you how hard it is for me to know that I can’t give them to you. So I went again. To be certain.”
“So … you distanced yourself from me. Because you thought that … what? You were doing me a favor?”
Dean sat up. “I … maybe.”
Charlotte looked over to a window, her lips closed.
“Talk to me, Charlotte. Tell me how you feel.”
Her gaze cut back to him, hard and angry. But her voice was all sadness. “Talk to you? Do you mean the way you tell me how you feel when hard things weigh on your mind?”
He stared at her, stunned. She wasn’t finished.
“This is two major things, Dean. A death in your family and the fact you’re infertile and you don’t let me deal with either one. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
He was speechless. “Charlotte … I…”
“You what? Think I’m young? Stupid? Emotional?”
“I don’t think any of those things. And what about the fact that you didn’t want to talk to me about your miscarriage?”
Her head jerked back. “First, not sharing is different from completely cutting someone off, which is what you did to me. Second, I did finally share with you, when I was ready, because I trusted you. So why don’t you trust me?”
She was right, he couldn’t compare the two. “I want to, Charlotte. I’m trying. But I have trouble with that.” He stood up and walked into the dining area before walking right back. He suddenly felt the need to shake off all this pent-up frustration. Why did she not understand?
“What does that mean?” she asked. “You have trouble trusting me? Why?”
Dean plopped back down on the sofa and looked at her. “It means … I watched my mother leave my father for a younger man. My own wife cheated on me because I couldn’t make her happy.”
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