by Kate Kinsley
“And the deal is sealed.” Dave’s flat, amused statement had him shaking his head.
Chapter Five
As Dave neared her house, Charity started troubleshooting ideas. She ran case scenarios like a chess game, wondered which moves she’d have to make to convince her mother to let her keep Snowflake. Then, again, maybe it wouldn’t take much effort. Maybe her mom would be so glad to see her she’d agree. Pondering the thought for a minute, she dismissed it. Her mom was a hard-ass. She liked everything to be done her way—the right way, she called it. No negotiation on any topic from staying out a little later to scrubbing a floor. It always had to be done according to her mom’s orders. Maybe she should thank her instead of bitching about her strict upbringing. It had made it easier to accept authority when she’d enlisted. In the army, she had no choice but to follow orders. She smiled as an image of her mother in a full dress uniform floated through her thoughts. She would have made a great drill sergeant. No nonsense, no backtalk, and no negotiation. Exactly like her CO.
She looked down. Snowflake had fallen asleep in her arms. She sighed. Damn it! If only the timing were better. Two years and she’d be out of the army and living on her own. Things would be so different. She wouldn’t be strategizing on behalf of a dog. He would simply be hers.
The army had also instilled a new determination in her. Life had a way of changing quickly, and so did plans if the situation warranted. She had two weeks. Fourteen days. She’d found national threats on the dark web in less time than that. Her mom couldn’t hold a candle to some of the enemies she’d exposed and thwarted, and she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel until she tried her best.
Dave turned his car into their neighborhood, and Charity’s attention drifted from beast to man. She averted her gaze out the window, but the image of a black tee shirt stretched across a muscular chest pooled heat between her legs. Damn, he was good looking! He made her feel all ooey-gooey inside, and they were just friends. Two weeks wasn’t long enough to explore a relationship and find a dog a home.
She swallowed a groan, silencing it so as not to give herself away and her attraction to him. Even though she could discipline her expressions, she could do nothing to stop her pulse from pounding or the blood racing to her throbbing core. It had been a long time since she’d had sexual thoughts; she’d been too busy with work and school to think about anything else. But now? Well, Mr. Sexilicious was sitting only two feet away from her, and her body had a mind of its own.
Charity moved in her seat, positioning her body, so her knees pointed toward the car door. It might have been a subconscious way of distancing herself from a good friend whom she had no business picturing naked—and, good Lord, she knew it had to be a beautiful sight!
Her fingertips itched to run through his hair. Dark brown and lush, Dave looked every inch the businessman, except for his hair. It was thick and brushed the tops of his shoulders. He brushed it back with his hand, always looking like he was three weeks overdue for a haircut, and the slight dishevel only made him more attractive. Speculation fueled her, painting images of tight skin and rippling muscles hiding beneath his clothes. The shirtsleeves hugged his biceps so tightly the material choked on the muscles. His faded jeans molded perfectly to his ass, the fit so perfect she nearly drooled when she got out of the truck to retrieve her bag. As the leather seat hugged his body, the worn denim kissed his thighs and stretched across his lap, and she wondered what lay beneath. Dave’s body hummed with sexual energy without even trying, causing her thoughts to snag with each stolen glance.
Her body’s response said she’d ignored her physical needs for too long. Like a naughty schoolgirl craving release, an unbidden image of him naked caused her core to clench. She had to stop. She should be ashamed. This was sweet, quiet, unassuming Dave, who unknowingly starred in her carnal thoughts.
Convicted, Charity quickly pushed away from introspection and anchored her needy core to the seat. She had to prioritize and compartmentalize while home, locking away foolish desires. Sex should be the last thing on her mental to-do list and had to take a backseat to the reason for her return home. Her father.
Instantly, thoughts of her father iced her surging libido. She shivered as she remembered her mother’s call and the reason for her trip home. Fear, guilt, and homesickness were the trifecta that had frozen her mind in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d been a little girl. She’d fought through the anxious feelings, soldiering on as she’d gone to her CO to relay the news, and put events in motion to get her home, but the tears had flowed freely once she’d laid her head on the pillow.
Her mother had reported her father was doing well, but Charity wouldn’t be satisfied until she saw him. Although she and her mom had butted heads more than she cared to remember, she loved her and was concerned for her. They were so close, her mom and dad. She was sure this health scare had rocked her mother’s foundation. Hopefully, her visit would fortify them all, giving them a little peace of mind by simply being together.
The sound of the blinking turn signal shook her from her thoughts. Dave turned the car onto her street, and the sights and smells of home welcomed her. Aromas in Baltimore might be an assault to the senses to a stranger, but not to her. All it took was a spicy, pungent whiff of Old Bay steamed crabs to hook her lips into a smile.
The smell conjured memories of cracking crabs with her cousins. Learning how to clean and eat your first crab was a rite of passage in Maryland. While the adults enjoyed their portions at a brown paper-covered table inside the basement of their row house, the kids enjoyed theirs on a picnic table in the back yard. Once they finished their feeding frenzy, fresh slices of watermelon followed to cleanse the palate. Salt and sweet. The best combination. She couldn’t determine which was better, the food or the friends, but Dave played a part in each memory.
Chapter Six
Dave parallel parked in a spot across the street from her house, and her heartbeat increased . As she watched him roll the steering wheel to weasel into the space, his flexing muscles entertained her. Woman and girl warred between adult and child definitions of longing.
Charity looked down at her lap, fixating on Snowflake as she cradled him on her lap. Now securely parked, Dave turned off the engine and palmed the keys. She reached for the door handle.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What?” His tone had been stern, his expression tight, and a determined gaze momentarily pinned her to her seat.
“Wait till I come around to open the door.”
Disbelief furrowed her brow. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m not.”
He quirked his brow as he let himself out of the car, and Charity stared after him. A small mental battle waged in her, struggling between femininity and feminist. Yes, she was capable of opening her car door, but she was flattered by his gesture. When he opened her door, their eyes locked, and that was when she noticed something new about him. “When did you stop wearing glasses?”
The tight lines at the corners of his eyes softened. “About a year ago. I had laser surgery. No more Coke-bottle glasses for me.” Cocking his head, a pleasant smile filled his lips. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Of course, I did. I always thought your eyes were blue, but in this light, they look silver.”
“Yeah, they’re a bit odd.” A playful grin hooked the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you noticed.”
The tender look in his eyes lit her insides with fireflies. It ignited her attraction. He was sweet and always had been. He extended his hand, and she took it, the tingles she’d silenced, again, making themselves known. But she had to shut them down. She was about to walk into her parents’ home. She had no time for dreaming—and she had Snowflake to think about.
She stepped out of the car, and Dave closed the door behind her. As he lifted the cover on the truck bed, she directed her inquisitive thoughts down another road. “Mom fills me in on most of the neighborhood gossip, but she doesn�
�t talk about everyone. What’s going on with our old gang? I figure you know more about them than she does.”
He slid her bag out, securing the tailgate with a bang. “Joey’s in Okinawa. The Marines. He works with computers, probably something similar to what you’re doing.
“Stevie took a year off. He’s backpacking his way through Europe. He’s going for his PhD in environmental science and has become very “green” conscious. Says he wants to find ways to reduce the carbon footprint.
“Joey B. moved to Key West. Last I heard he was making a decent living by playing guitar around the bars. He said he loves it there and doesn’t want to come back.” Dave shrugged as they walked toward the house. “I guess I don’t blame him. I’ve been there. It’s a more relaxed mindset.”
“What about Brian?” Her question slumped Dave’s shoulders, misting his eyes with gray clouds. Brian had been his closest childhood friend, and she’d heard he’d had mental health issues.
“Brian was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He chose to take drugs other than the ones prescribed. No one knows where he is.” Sorrow weighed the blue in his eyes down to a darker hue. “Life changes for everybody, Charity. Even you aren’t the sweet little angel with a devil’s streak.”
A lopsided grin curved her mouth. “Stop. According to my dad, I am an angel.”
Dave gave her a look, a spark of pride in his eyes. “You’ve gone from buttercup to bulldog.”
“Bulldog?” She laughed. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”
“It’s a compliment.” Tenderness graced the comment. “There’s an assuredness about you I hadn’t noticed before. The funny thing is, I recognize it. It’s from knowing what you want and going after it.” His tone tapered down to a more sensitive one. “I only hope the army doesn’t harden the tenderhearted side of you.” He stopped as he stepped onto the curb. Charity stopped as well. As he looked at her with sincerity in his eyes, she felt a tug on her heart. “That’s what I always found most special about you. Your tender heart. It’s the part of you I like the most.”
Chapter Seven
Brief but electrifying, the impact of his words struck her with an unmistakable spark. She knew Dave felt it too, just by looking into his eyes. It happened in an instant. Birth of a new beginning. She sucked in a breath, her heart crushing beneath his truth.
“There’s my girl!” The tethered spark between them interrupted, Charity and Dave looked toward the greeting. Her insides buzzed with a thousand bees.
“Daddy!” She ran to her father, jostling Snowflake with each step. She turned away from Dave, distancing herself from the man who was quickly stealing her heart, moving toward the one who’d always owned it. She made quick work of the porch steps, and threw herself into his open arms,
“Oof.” She took a step back when she realized she’d knocked some wind out of him, but he pulled her back. “It’s so good to see you, my girl.” His voice trembled, exposing the depth of his emotion.
“Daddy, did I hurt you?” Her eyes traveled up and down his body to inspect any damage she might have caused.
“I’m fine, honey,” he laughed. “The scar is still healing. It pinches a little.” He paused, looking down. “Whatcha got there?”
Snowflake wiggled in her arms. He stretched his neck, searching for some affection. Charity’s dad stroked his head and traveled beneath his chin for a scratch.
“I found a friend, Dad. Isn’t he cute?”
Her dad reached for the puppy, removing him from Charity’s arms. He slid his hands beneath the puppy’s front paws, holding him up for inspection as one would a child.
“Well, look at you. You’re a skinny thing, but if I know my daughter, she’ll fatten you up.” He flipped the puppy on his back like he was holding a baby. “Well, will you look at that mark on his chest. Looks like a snowflake, Charity.” He traced the furry, white lines with his finger. His brows perked as he gave Charity a look. “What are you going to do about your mother?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d help me with that.”
The front door was now the only barrier between Charity and her mother.
“I don’t know. She isn’t going to like this.” He gave the pup a reassuring pat on the head.
“Dad, most likely, I’m not keeping him. I can’t. I go back in two weeks.” A one-shoulder shrug exposed her resignation. Her dad looked between her and the puppy.
“Where did you find him?”
“In a pile of trash at the airport.” She looked down at the dog, who was entirely at ease in her father’s arms. “He was in the parking structure all by himself.” Charity bent and kissed the top of Snowflake’s head.
Disapproval tightened her father’s lips into a thin line. “I’ll never understand people.”
“I said the same thing, Dad.”
Dave had followed behind and now stood at Charity’s side. He reached to shake her father’s hand. “Hey, Mister Rich. How’re you feeling?”
Her dad accepted Dave’s hand, then pulled back to continue petting the puppy. “I’m doing okay. The doc says I’m mending, but I feel like a couch potato. I can’t wait to get back to doing some things I love.
“I should have known something was wrong. I didn’t put in my vegetable garden this year because I was got winded. Who would have guessed it was my heart? Miss Anne planted the flowers.”
Charity looked over the black porch railing. “The garden looks pretty, but, then, Mom always did have a green thumb.”
“Yep. Your mother spends her mornings out here. She says it’s her quiet time.” He laughed. “It’s probably the break she needs from taking care of me.”
“Dad . . . that’s not true, and you know it.” Charity closed her eyes for a minute, savoring the memory of watching her mother tend to her flowers. She inhaled the mixed fragrances. The co-mingled scents of flowers and freshly-cut grass sent a warm feeling coursing through her. She took Snowflake from her father’s arms and prepared to go inside. Her mother had two sides to her personality, sweet and sour. Although it felt good to be home, she was prepared to deal with either once she passed through the door.
Chapter Eight
Charity hooked her hand in the crook of her father’s arm while Dave grasped the handle and opened the door. The aroma of her mother’s cooking incited a response from Snowflake, whose snout went straight up as he sniffed the tempting smell.
“Hey, Mom. I’m home.” Charity kept her tone light and lyrical.
“I can see that. Come here and let me look at you.”
Although she expected to see her mother coming from the kitchen, instead, the voice came from another direction. Charity spun to see her mother on the landing of the stairs. She released her father’s arm and closed the distance between them. Tears stung her eyes as they embraced. “I missed you so much, Mom.”
Her mother pulled back and pointed to the puppy. “I missed you too, and what do you have in your arm.”
Shit! Her mother couldn’t even give her a minute to breathe.”
Charity raised her arm so she could get a better view. “Someone dumped him at the airport.” She lifted Snowflake’s chin to expose the wintery mark on his chest. “I’m calling him Snowflake. See the mark?”
A question raised her mother’s brow. “You named him? Tsk.” The warning was clear as determination shaded her eyes. “We can’t keep him. I don’t have the time or the energy to look after both your father and a dog.”
Her mother’s words and tone pricked. The balloon of excitement that had been gradually filling since her arrival popped, the barb deflating Charity’s mood. She turned her head, looking at Dave and then her father for their reactions. Neither man spoke, but their eyes held sympathy. She stiffened her spine, anger simmering her blood. “You really know how to make someone feel good to be home, you know, Mom?” Her tone was the same as her mother’s, but then she’d learned from the mistress herself. There was only one difference: Charity’s tone was a defense mechanism, wher
eas her mother’s was meant to harm. She seemed to have an unending supply of hurtful words.
Ignoring her daughter’s comeback, her mother ignored the exchange. As if the incident had never happened, she patted Snowflake on the head. “He’s cute. Bringing him here was the right thing to do. Poor thing.”
Wow! Let the mind games begin. The scene was all too common. Though her mother spoke affirming words, the sentiment was disingenuous. These sparring bouts had played out many times, especially while Charity was growing up. She was embarrassed for Dave to see them behave this way, but Dave had seen it before. Her mother being a control freak was legendary with the neighborhood kids.
“There’s probably an old bowl in the basement you can use for its water, Charity. I don’t know what you’re going to feed it?”
“Snowflake, Mom. His name is Snowflake.”
With the puppy still secure in her arms, Charity disappeared. A few minutes later she was back, filling a bowl with water. She placed Snowflake on the floor. Instantly he lapped at the contents. When he was finished, he looked up at Charity with pleading eyes. She picked him up, hugging him to her chest. “You were a thirsty boy, weren’t you?”
Dave approached her as Charity’s mother eyed her daughter and the puppy. He reached for Snowflake, probably did to relieve the pup from the tension thickened air. “I’m going to take him to the pet store and get some dog food.”
“David, I was hoping you’d stay for dinner,” her mother interjected.
“Thank you, Miss Anne. I’d like to, but this little guy needs some help. Who knows how long it’s been since he’s eaten.” He turned to Charity. “Visit with your parents. I got this.”