And that pisses me off too.
“Look, I don’t want to talk to you,” I reply and point my finger in his face. “You’re mean and sexy and… mean.” I nod once and turn to Van. “I told him off.”
“You did great,” she says with a smile.
“Also,” I say and turn back to him. “I think you should have two black eyes.”
“You’re probably right,” Simon says, making me scowl.
“You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
“My apologies.”
“Do his manners annoy anyone else?” I ask the room at large. My brothers are just hanging back, watching us. They’re not kicking anyone’s ass, and that just irritates the hell out of me. “Aren’t you supposed to beat him up?”
“They already did. Charly,” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Good. I’m glad they beat you up. I told Declan not to tell me where you are, so he’s in deep shit with me.”
“You mean tell me where you are?”
“Are you trying to confuse me?”
He simply laughs and reaches up to brush my hair off my face, but I flinch away from his touch, and then the room starts to spin.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Eli asks.
“Gonna pass out.”
Chapter Twenty-One
~Simon~
True to her word, Charly passes out, right into my arms.
“She always passes out when she drinks too much,” Van informs me. She and Callie are both glaring at me, which I completely deserve.
It’s almost worse than Charly’s brothers all taking a round with me in their martial arts studio.
Almost.
But having her in my arms, feeling her against me, smelling her hair, makes it all worth it. Now I just have to convince her to take me back.
As soon as she sobers up.
“I’m going to take her home,” I say and lift her into my arms. She’s so damn small, she fits perfectly.
“Like hell you are,” Van says and stands, pulling herself up to full height, which is no taller than Charly. “She would have my ass if she found out I let you take her home. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“I know.” And God, it bloody hurts. “I’m hoping to change her mind about that.”
“Are you really going to let him walk out of here with her?” Van demands, pointing at her brothers.
“It’s okay, Van,” Beau says. “He may be an idiot, but he loves her.”
“Thanks, mate,” I reply and smile at Savannah. “I won’t hurt her again, darling.”
Charly whimpers and buries her face in my neck. I want to hold her all night. I want to comfort her and protect her and love her.
“I don’t know,” Van says, shaking her head.
“I respect your opinion, but frankly, you’re not going to stop me. I’m going to take her home, let her sleep this off, and then I’m going to make things right with her.”
“Oh, trust me,” Savannah says, her eyes almost green. “I can stop you. I may be small, but I can kick your ass.”
I grin and nod, charmed by her loyalty and determination.
“I’ll remember that.”
I nod at Callie, then turn to walk out of the bar. Eli steps out of my way, but lays a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.
“Hurt her, and it’ll be a hell of a lot worse than a black eye,” he warns.
“Understood.”
The drive to her house is quiet, the silence broken only by her sweet little snores. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and my girl is passed out stinking drunk.
She’s bloody adorable.
I manage to get her inside and up the stairs to bed. Once her shoes are off, I contemplate changing her clothes, but decide that I’d rather survive long enough to actually talk with her, so I leave her yellow dress on her and tuck her into bed.
I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening working, talking to Todd, and waiting.
But she doesn’t wake up.
Her makeup is a mess. She has dark circles under her eyes, leading me to believe that she hasn’t been sleeping well.
She’s exhausted.
I want to be nearby, but again, climbing in bed with her isn’t a wise choice, so I pull up a chair and sit next to her. I didn’t think I would ever see her again, and here I am, just inches away.
I need her to wake up, and yet it terrifies me. What if she turns me away?
I take her hand in mine and lay my head on the bed next to her shoulder, listening to her breathing, and let sleep come.
***
The phone is ringing.
Charly shifts on the bed, reaching for it, as I sit up and scowl at the stiffness in my body. God, everything hurts. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to turn my head to the left again.
“Hello?” she says and shoves her hand through her hair. She hasn’t looked back at me yet. “No, I’m fine.” She yawns. “I’m not hung over, which is good, I guess. Yeah.”
Now she turns to stretch and sees me, and immediately scowls.
“Who the fuck let Simon in my house? You let him bring me home?”
“I’m sitting right here,” I remind her with a smile.
“Of course I slept all night. I was drunk, and I haven’t slept much in weeks. But you and I are going to talk about this later.” She hangs up and glares at me. “Why are you here?”
“Charly—”
“Wait.” She climbs out of the bed. “I’m not doing this in my bedroom. You go downstairs and I’ll be there in a minute.”
I’m not going to argue. The bedroom isn’t the place for this. I make my way gingerly down the stairs, rubbing my neck and wishing for coffee with everything in my being.
But I sit on the couch, my elbows resting on my knees, and wait.
After what feels like an hour, she comes downstairs. She’s taken a shower, and is in clean clothes. Her face is washed clean.
“You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away.”
“Right.” She nods once and sits on a chair opposite me. “I’m not interested in hearing that you think I’m beautiful. I’d like for you to tell me why you’re here.”
Because I’ve missed you so much it feels like my heart has been ripped from my body.
“First, I’d like to apologize, Charlotte. I’m truly sorry for the way I left things last month. You didn’t deserve that.”
“No,” she says. Her voice is calm, her face emotionless. I wish she’d throw something at me. “I didn’t deserve it.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how many unresolved issues I had to resolve. I almost equate it to a bit of post-traumatic stress.” I shrug and shake my head. “I walked into your shop that day and saw you with the man in your storeroom.”
She cocks a brow. “And rather than interrupt, or ask me about it later, you jumped to conclusions. Again.”
“I did.” I link my fingers and lower my head. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
“I won’t argue there,” she says. “Okay, you’ve apologized. There’s the door.”
She stands to leave the room, and I jump up, rushing after her.
No.
“Charly—”
“What?” she yells and turns back me, her eyes blazing now. This is what I need. Emotion. “What do you want from me?”
“I just want you.”
“Well, you had me, and you fucked it up, Simon. I was ready to tell you all about Ryan that evening. I didn’t have any fucking secrets from you.”
“You’re magnificent when you’re angry,” I murmur.
“You’d be angry too if the person you’d fallen in love with left you without an explanation. If the person you love threw all of your insecurities in your face on his way out the fucking door.”
I reach for her, but she ducks out of my way.
She loves me.
“You’d be exhausted too if you couldn’t sleep in your own bed because of the memories there, and instead you crash on your
brother’s lumpy couch every night.”
“Baby—”
“I had just learned to trust you, to trust what I was feeling for you, Simon. I opened myself up to you.”
“I know.”
“And now you think that you can show up here, get a black eye, apologize, and everything would be okay? You can’t just fix this with that smile of yours.”
“I know that too.” I sigh, wanting to pull her into my arms so badly that it hurts. She stomps over to the door and pulls it open, and it’s exactly like the day I left.
“I want you to leave.”
“No.” I stay where I am, staring at the woman I love. “Not until you hear me out. And then, if you want to throw me out, I’ll go and not come back. But I came a long way to see you and to say a few things.”
She closes the door, not slamming it, which gives me a bit of hope, then turns around and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting.
“You have five minutes. I have to work today.”
God, she’s tough.
“First, you should know that I am completely and irreversibly in love with you.”
She blinks, but her expression doesn’t change, and the pit in my stomach grows.
“Amy fucked me up. I didn’t know just how much until I’d fallen in love with you and the baggage kept rearing its ugly head. I know that leaving, especially the way I did, was absolutely wrong, but to be honest, Charly, I’m glad it happened that way. I needed to go home and set some things right before I could make them right with you.”
I swallow and pace the room.
“I don’t mean that I had to make anything right with Amy, or my parents. I needed to make it right with me. I was convinced that I’d never be able to shake the blinding jealousy I had every time another man looked at you.” I turn to her now in time to see her frown. But she doesn’t interrupt. “I’d never been jealous in my life. I didn’t like it. And when I saw you with Ryan, my first instinct was to run because I convinced myself that I would never live through another repeat of what happened with Amy.”
“I’m not Amy,” she says.
“No. You’re not. And it took some time and some soul searching for me to realize that I was, well, intensely fucked up.” I sigh and shove my hands through my hair. “Amy came to see me.”
She cocks a brow.
“She was her usual, manipulative self, and not only did I not give a fuck about what she had to say, but it drove home for me that you are nothing like Amy. You are so kind and sweet and loving. You’re everything she isn’t, and I knew that I’d not only screwed up, but that I needed to come make it right.
“But first, I spent about a week in intense therapy, coming to terms with a lot of what happened in my life before you.”
“I’m glad,” she says softly. “I’m very happy for you, Simon, that you worked on yourself and that you’re in a better place.”
Just when my hopes rise, she turns to me and crushes them down again.
“But I just don’t know if I can trust you again.”
I nod, and feel my heart sink to my knees. I’m too late. I hurt her too badly.
I cross to her and drag my knuckles down her cheek. She doesn’t pull away this time. The feel of her soft skin is a balm to my wounded soul.
“I understand,” I say, my voice gruff. “I’m sorry for everything, Charlotte. I love you.”
Just as I’m about to pull away, she lays a hand on my chest.
“Wait.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief moment, then looks up at me. “I didn’t say no. I said I don’t know.”
I wait, watching her lovely face as she struggles with herself, and that makes me hurt almost as much as the idea of losing her completely. I’ve hurt her so badly.
“I want the chance to make this all up to you, love.”
“I need some time to think about all of this,” she says at last. “I can’t just jump back into this with you.”
“It’s a trust thing,” I reply with a smile and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be here for as long as you need. I’m staying at the same hotel I was at last time. You can come to me, or call, anytime, day or night.”
She nods and steps back as I open the door.
“Simon?”
“Yes, love.”
“Thank you.”
I nod and leave before I pull her into my arms and carry her upstairs to her bed.
***
“You and I need to talk,” Savannah Boudreaux says when I open the door to her knock.
“Hello to you too,” I reply and gesture for her to come inside. “Can I get you anything? I have some hot tea here.”
“No,” she replies and walks into my suite. “I love this place. I’ve always wanted to see the inside.”
“Is that why you came by?” I ask and gesture for her to have a seat on the sofa by the window.
“I’ll stand,” she replies. “I have too much energy to sit.”
“I understand.”
“No, I didn’t come here to check out the inside of this inn,” she begins. “I came to see you when I’m sober.”
“Do you girls drink a lot when you’re pissed?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugs and wanders into the bathroom. “Look at this tub!”
I grin and wait for her to return.
“So, Charly’s at work and you’re here, so I’m assuming she didn’t just jump into your waiting arms this morning.”
“You haven’t spoken to her?” I’m surprised. I figured Charly would call her sisters first thing. I know that they’re her closest friends.
“No.” She shakes her head and sits on the sofa now. Her eyes, so much like Charly’s, are worried. “That’s usual for her too. When she needs to think, or if she’s sad, she stays mostly to herself. Especially since our father died.”
She looks at me now. “I want to hear where your head is, but I also want to give you some insight into Charly. I don’t see this as speaking out of turn because she loves you, and I think you love her too.”
“More than anything.”
She smiles softly. “That’s lovely. Charly was the closest to our father. Don’t get me wrong, we all thought we were the closest one, but in hindsight, I can see that Charly and Dad had a very special relationship. They had many of the same interests. She idolized him. Losing him was hard on all of us, but I think that a piece of Charly died that day too.”
She wipes a tear away, and I sink into a squat next to her, listening to her intently.
“Our parents were married for the better part of forty years, and for all we kids knew, it was a wonderful marriage. I still believe it was good, but having been married once myself, I know that no marriage is perfect. They made sure they never fought in front of us, and Dad took care of things; the business, us kids, and our mama. He loved her so much. And he used to tell us girls that we deserved nothing less than the fairy tale of love at first sight and happily ever after.”
She smirks and some of the pieces begin to fit together in my head.
“Love at first sight and happily ever after are for fairy tales,” she says softly, “but I think Charly believed in them. That’s why she’d never been in a serious relationship. She was waiting for that instant burst of passion, that immediate recognition that she’d met the man of her dreams, all in the first five minutes. And it wasn’t until she met you that she realized that love can be a slow burn, starting low and building into something wild and passionate.
“She had that with you. She was…careful. I don’t think she understood what was happening with you at first, but once she did, well, she fell hard.”
“And I was a broken prick who broke her heart.”
“Well, those are strong words, but I’ll take them,” she says with a laugh. “I don’t think you’re a prick, Simon. I think you fell truly in love for the first time too, and maybe you didn’t know exactly what to do with it.”
“That’s a simple, and accurate, way to phrase it.”
&nbs
p; She nods, and the pain in her eyes is blinding.
“What happened to you, love?”
She just shrugs and smiles through the tears. I have a feeling she’s been doing that for a very long time.
“I’ve had my own hurt. And Charly watched that, too.” She looks up at me now and swallows hard. “Sometimes love is disguised as something evil. Something horrible.”
“Yes. It is.”
“So when you find true love, that makes your heart swell and comforts you, that makes you feel safe and protected, you fight for it, Simon. You fight.”
“She said she needs time to think.”
“Give it to her, but then you go after her and you fight for her. Nothing in this world will be more worth it.”
“I know.” I lean in and kiss her cheek and pull her in for a tight hug. “Thank you, Savannah.”
She nods, wipes her eyes, and stands to leave. When she reaches the door, she looks back at me. “Daddy would have liked you.”
And with that, she walks out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
~Charly~
It’s been a long day. Maybe the longest day of my life. I’ve finally just got home from work, and it’s almost midnight. I didn’t go to Beau’s because I need to think this all through on my own. The one person I would normally go to about these things is gone.
My dad would know what to say. God, how I wish I could talk to him, just one more time.
But I can’t.
I’m exhausted. I spent all day deep in thought. I was so preoccupied that I finally had to call Linda in to help me because I had to ask customers to repeat themselves two, sometimes three times. So I went into the back and spent the day placing new orders, balancing the books, and looking at real estate in Miami to keep my mind occupied.
I undress and flop into bed. I wonder if Simon is asleep, and then shake my head. What does it matter? I’m not going to call him over, and I’m not going to show up at his place. I wanted to ask him to stay so badly this morning. Seeing him, feeling his touch, almost made the last month of agony disappear.
Almost.
I thought about him all day today, and I still don’t know what to do. I want to be with him, but I knew from the beginning that he wasn’t my forever, even though I’d started to hope that I was wrong. He was much more than a Mr. Right Now. And then the way he ended things just hurt so badly, how do I trust that he won’t do it again? He says he won’t, but I don’t trust words. I barely trust actions. But I always believe in patterns, and he jumped to conclusions before.
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