Sweet Love

by Kayla, Mia

  Warm hands wrapped around my arms, rubbing up and down, the friction making me feel better.

  “He said we’re starting in five. Do you want to wait in the car till then?” Connor said, turning me to face him and wrapping his arms fully around me, running his hands up and down my back.

  I cowered into him and inhaled deeply, taking in the masculine scent of him. The cotton from his polo was soft against my cheek. It was short-sleeved, so I knew he must be freezing too.

  “Five minutes?” I lifted my head to take in the trees surrounding us, the small lake to our right, and the string of lights that the crew was hanging from tree to tree. “This will take way more than five minutes. Let’s go.” I linked my fingers through his and practically dragged him to our destination—his car.

  “Wyatt!” Connor called out. “Call me when you guys are set.”

  Once in the car, Connor turned on the engine, and the heat blasted in the background. “This weather is ridiculous.”

  “You can say that again.” I leaned back against the seat and let all my muscles relax.

  We’d started prepping for filming this morning, and yet we weren’t done. The director wanted to catch the perfect scene for the proposal, so here we were, almost late into the evening. We would have to film the wedding scene on a different day. No one had accounted for the time it would take to retake each scene and set up.

  “If this is what acting entails, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  “Me too,” Connor said.

  My eyes moved toward him—his chiseled jaw, his full bottom lip, his face of an angel, his body of a god. “You’d get paid millions. If you don’t want to be an actor, you should definitely take up modeling.”

  His deep chuckle filled the small space between us. “I smile weird. No one would ever hire me. Plus, I love my job.”

  “Not true. And for your information, I love your smile.”

  He tipped my chin with the lightness of his fingertips. “No. I love your smile. It’s one of my favorite parts of you.”

  His thumb brushed against my lips, and heat spread throughout me so fast that I wondered how I had ever been cold before.

  If we started this, my makeup would be ruined. I already had to redo my lipstick.

  “Are we back to smiles?” I asked, pulling his hand down and intertwining our fingers.

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, I think we need to think about how we’re going to reenact this first scene. Prep ourselves, so it’ll be faster. If we can do it in less than ten takes, we’ll be all set to do the next scene and then go home.”

  He nodded. “Good idea. I’m all about going home.” He tipped his chin my way.

  I thought back to our very first brainstorming session and the idea of the commercial. I thought about the feels we wanted to give our target audience—family, love, celebration. “So, today is the big day. The couple has been dating for two years.”

  “Two years?” Connor scoffed. “Six months. A year is already too long to know.”

  I reeled back. “You think it only takes six months for a couple to know that they can spend the rest of their lives together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But they hardly know each other.”

  “True. But I’m a firm believer in the saying, When you know, you know.” He shrugged with this amused smirk on his face. “And they have the rest of their lives to get to know each other. I learn more about myself each and every day—what I want, what I can do, my limits.”

  “Still …”

  He leaned in, giving me that look again, the lusty I want to kiss you look.

  “It’s not about the time and how long a couple has been together; it’s the feeling they get when they are around each other.”

  “But sometimes, those feelings are just in the beginning, and once the honeymoon is over, then it’s real fights, real life.”

  “Yeah, and all the real fights, real life stuff is worth it in the end because you’ve found your person.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  I laughed. “You are a hopeless romantic. I never knew.” I waved a hand, getting back on track with things. “So, they’ve been dating for six months. He’s madly in love with her, and he can’t live without her, so he decides”—I lifted my ring finger and wiggled it—“this is it. He’s going to put a ring on it, so no one will beat him to it.”

  “So, he plans this extravagant event,” Connor continued. “He plans this awesome way on how he’s going to do it.” He tapped his temple in an I’m so smart way. “And he strings lights from tree to tree, illuminating the area. That, and the stars make the date have this romantic feel. Then, he takes her to the lake, to their very first date.”

  “So, she’s going to know he’s going to propose then if she sees this.” I laughed.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Because”—he lowered his chin and tapped my nose with his forefinger—“she thinks he’s planned this extravagant event for their six-month anniversary. He’s so romantic that he plans month celebrations.”

  I smiled bigger. “With chocolate.”

  “That’s right.”

  Our eyes locked, and we high-fived.

  Chapter 23

  Charlie

  My family was all seated at the table, eating dinner. I could have spent the night at Connor’s house, like I had been, but I’d promised my mother I’d be home for the family dinner. It seemed like weeks since I’d sat and eaten dinner with her since I had been with Connor recently.

  My mother never asked me where I had been spending the night at when I hadn’t come home.

  On one normal Wednesday night, I’d thrown out that I was meeting Alyssa and Casey out for drinks, which was true. I hadn’t told her that Connor and Kyle were there, nor had I told her that I went home with Connor.

  Sandy’s voice grated on my nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. Luckily with her, I had trained my ear to have selective hearing. I cut up my chicken Parmesan, which Elsa had prepared. It was over-the-top delicious, and I enjoyed each savory bit as I tried to concentrate on the positive—my satisfied stomach.

  “Yeah, two Saturdays from now,” Sandy piped up, which had me peering up, with my fork midair.

  I counted the days to my exhibit.

  “My company is being honored in the Under Thirty Entrepreneur Awards ceremony, so save the date.”

  Wait. What? No.

  My mother practically jumped out of her seat. “How amazing, Sandy. Congrats.” She placed a hand on Richard’s hand on the table as he beamed at his daughter.

  “Is it a black-tie event?”

  “Yes, Daddy. Your tux will do fine. Me? I’ll need to find something to wear.” She smiled, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and stared at me. “You’re invited too, Charlie. I actually hope you can come.”

  “Of course she can come,” my mother answered.

  My heartbeat sped up in my ears, anxiety threatening to cripple me.

  That was the night of my exhibit.

  “I actually can’t. Mom, remember … I told you to keep that day open.”

  All the time spent on my pieces and all the money saved for the space led to that one day. All to that one day.

  I hadn’t exactly told her that I was showcasing my work on that day. I’d just informed her that it was very important that she left that day open for me.

  “Oh, honey”—she visibly frowned—“what’s going on again?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I told you, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh. Can you just reschedule?” Her eyes teetered to everyone in the room—from Richard to Sandy and finally resting on me.

  I blinked at her. “No, I can’t,” I snapped.

  I had told her that this was a very special date and that I needed her to come. I’d had her physically check her phone calendar in front of me before I secured the space to ensure that she would be available.

  “Honey, I’m sure whatever you have going on …” She paused and asses
sed my features before continuing, “Did you book tickets somewhere? Could we reschedule? I mean, this is a black-tie event for your sister.”

  There was no sympathy shown in the crowd of three. None. There would be no arguing, no winning in this situation. But I was only mad at one of them—my mother. Because she’d promised. She’d promised me that she would be there.

  “Honey …”

  I shot up so fast that the chair knocked over. “It’s fine. What I do, what’s important to me, has never mattered to you anyway.”

  “Charlie—”

  “No, Mom. And if you want to know what’s so important on that day, it’s my exhibit to showcase my artwork. But since you think my work is utter shit, you shouldn’t go anyway.”

  My mother stood, her hand outstretched, but I was too far mad to even listen or turn around. I stormed out of the house and into my haven—the pool house—where I admired all my work by myself.

  I thought my mother would come check on me, but I knew her. She was giving me “space.” But what I needed was for her to apologize, to tell me that she would pull through on her promises for once, to pick me and choose me over her new family.

  That night was the first time since my father had died that I cried myself to sleep. I wished he were still here. I wished that he could see me showcase this exhibit. I wished my mother loved me unconditionally, just how my father had loved me. But all my wishes would never come because my father was dead.

  Connor

  Charlie was in a sullen mood today, and I was determined to make her feel better. Whatever had gotten her down, I would cheer her up. It was my mission of the day.

  But I couldn’t get her alone. Every time I turned, there was Casey and Alyssa, chatting it up by her desk, like they didn’t have their normal jobs to do.

  “Hey.” I walked on over, knowing it was the end of the day and I wouldn’t see Charlie tonight because she had plans to get ready for her exhibit. “Can I talk to you in my office? It’s about the rebranding.”

  “It’s fine. We have work to do anyway,” Casey said, turning to walk away, her tone kind of annoyed, as though I’d interrupted some very important conversation.

  Alyssa stood from the edge of Charlie’s desk. “Hmm. Rebranding sounds kind of fun.” She winked, following Casey out.

  When they were out of sight, I crooked my finger at Charlie, raising an eyebrow. When she leaned in closer, I stole a kiss, and she widened her eyes.

  “In my office,” I said.

  “No, Connor.” Her eyebrows scrunched. “Not now. I just don’t have the energy.”

  She thought I was talking about sex, but I wasn’t. I mean, come on … I cared for her. That wasn’t the only thing on my mind. It was mostly on my mind, but not the only thing on my mind.

  “Just come to my office, Charlie.” I turned around, not giving her a second to deny me.

  A few moments later, Charlie walked into my office, dragging her feet, her eyes downturned.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, not moving far from the door.

  “Charlie, sit.” I tipped my chin to the empty chair in front of my desk.

  “Like a dog?” She shot me a look. “Connor, I’m in a foul mood. You just don’t want to be around me right now. Promise, I’m no joy to be around.”

  “Which is exactly why I want to talk to you. I want to know what’s wrong.”

  Her frown deepened.

  I walked toward her, toward the door, and grabbed her elbows, pulling her in. “We’re not just sex buddies, okay? I like you. I care about you. I want you to tell me what’s bothering you, and I want to be here to cheer you up. And I’m not talking about the kinky stuff.”

  I brushed her hair from her forehead.

  Her lips trembled, and in the next second, she was in my arms, a broken, shaky breath escaping her. “I’m s-sorry.”

  When she tried to pull away, I tightened my hold around her. “Stop. It’s me.”

  Hell, my heart broke as she pushed her face into my shirt. Shit … is she crying? She was. My stomach dropped and kept on going.

  “Charlie …” I kissed the top of her head and pulled her tighter against me.

  I would do anything in my power to make her feel better. Practically anything. Slay dragons. Defeat her demons myself.

  She pulled back, ducking her head and blinking up against the lights, swiping at her eyes. “I planned this great exhibit. Planned it for months and months. Put a down payment on the place, got this job to secure payment to fulfill it. Worked on my paintings nonstop and then …” She shook her head and dropped her head into her hands. “She’s not going to my exhibit.”

  “Who?”

  She lifted her gaze to mine, and the look in her eyes was like having a truck ramming against my chest.

  “My mother.” A tiny sob escaped her.

  What in the living hell is wrong with that woman?

  I didn’t know her mother, but I didn’t like her already, just for the fact that she always made Charlie feel like shit.

  “Why the hell not?” I snapped a little too loudly.

  “Because my wench of a stepsister … is having … an awards ceremony then. Like, she sprang it up. Like she did it on purpose, which I know is stupid ’cause how could she possibly know that?”

  Full-on tears fell down my cheeks.

  It was all too much for me to take.

  “Come here.”

  “Connor … no.”

  I pulled her into me, unable to handle her crying, needing to console her, needing her tears to stop.

  Her elbows were by my chest, her arms tight, but I wrapped my arms around her fully.

  “Stop fighting me, Charlie. Why don’t you let me comfort you?”

  She pushed at my chest, but I wouldn’t relent.

  “Because I can’t rely on you like that. Because you’re leaving.”

  She was right.

  I released a heavy sigh and closed my eyes tightly.

  I got where she was coming from. She didn’t want to rely on me, especially when I was going. She didn’t want me to be that person, her person, given our circumstance.

  I held her in silence, letting her get her all emotions out, knowing I couldn’t be anything else to her even though she was my person. Wasn’t she? She knew everything about my own family issues, had consoled me and tried to lighten the bitterness that I had toward my parents. She was even helping me save this company when it wasn’t her job to do.

  I kissed the top of her head.

  Yes.

  My person.

  Charlie

  I didn’t want to lean on Connor, didn’t want to have him here to comfort me now, knowing that he wasn’t here permanently. I could confide in Alyssa and Casey because I knew … I knew they would be here for me months from now, maybe even years from now. I’d formed a bond with them in a short period of time, and I knew we would be friends forever. Plus, when I complained, they always made me feel better, but there was nothing … nothing that made me feel better than being in Connor’s arms.

  Like his arms were meant to be around me, like he was born to keep me there.

  And I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t hold the words in and not depend on him like I wanted to.

  “I wish … I wish I were good enough. Gosh, I don’t understand why I need this affirmation from her, why I still seek it. It’s just …” I hiccuped. “There’s this void now that my dad is no longer here. I want her to fill that void. I want her to believe and know I’m talented. That this passion I have is in me. I want her to see what my father saw, what everyone tells me about my art.” As soon as the words came out, sadness was replaced with a bitterness I felt in my gut. “I just hate her sometimes.” There, I’d said it. But it was true. Did she realize how much she was hurting me?

  Connor lifted my chin. “Why do you need it? Her approval.”

  He cupped my cheek so tenderly that tears nearly formed again. I tried to push them down, welcoming the anger, but it wou
ldn’t come.

  “I just want to know … that I’m enough.”

  “Oh, baby, you’re more than enough.” His forehead leaned against mine. “Old people are too stuck in their ways to see anything else … to see what’s right in front of them. Their minds are fixed, unchangeable. But know this: you’re brilliant. Your crazy, gorgeous mind is what’s going to save this multimillion-dollar company. Seriously, your art, your creativity blow me away.” He framed my cheeks with the lightness of his fingertips, and I drowned in the sea of brown looking down at me. “Believe it. Your father saw it. I see it. Your friends see it. Damn, Charlie … you’d have to be blind to not see how insanely talented you are.”

  This man. He was amazing, and a different type of emotion stirred within me—this undeniable urge to be closer to him, to feel him everywhere.

  So, I closed the gap between us and kissed him with a fervent passion, shocking him. He pulled back, stunned. I leaned in closer and kissed him again.

  “Charlie,” he rushed out as my lips went to the crook of his neck. “That’s not why I called you into my office.”

  “I know. But I want you, Connor. I want you to make me feel better this way.”

  I anchored myself against his hip, rubbing him and myself in all the right places, needing a release, needing to forget, even for just a moment.

  I went on my toes and nipped on his ear. “Don’t make me beg for it.”

  He shuddered against me, and then it was game over. I was going to win this cat-and-mouse chasing game.

  He groaned and lifted me by the ass. He kissed me, matching the same hunger that I had for him. Lips against lips. Hands over my body. Papers flew off his desk, and he slowly guided me to my back.

  “Not the underwear. Don’t rip my underwear,” I moaned.

  He laughed against my lips and took off my heels one at a time. Then, he slipped his fingers through the edge of my panties and slipped them off.

  My body tingled from anticipation, and I wiggled beneath him.