by Jami Wagner
“Oh my gosh, please don’t do that,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. It’s sexy as hell.
“Do what?”
Her hand waves in front of her. “Read my mind and then tell me it’s okay. How am I supposed to keep you guessing?”
If it earns me that smile, the one twisting my heart into a knot, I’ll do it every goddamn day if I have to.
“Great minds think alike.”
“Oh.”
“Now, back to this guessing game. Care to make a wager that I can guess what you’re thinking right now?”
“I’d like to hear you try.”
She stands up straight, as if being taller and a serious expression will make it harder for me. If she wanted to make it difficult, she shouldn’t have let her gaze slip to my lips just now. Sassy Charlie is just as hot as shy Charlie.
“Let’s decide the terms, shall we?” I say as we head toward the stairs. Charlie falls into step with me when we reach the steps.
“How about I choose them?” She pauses. “Otherwise, by your rules, we’ll be making out like teenagers before the night is over.”
I stop our ascent and pull her to me as I lean back on the building. Her palms land flat against my chest as she gazes into my eyes.
“I like that term. Let’s keep it,” I say. This whole “don’t do it” speech I’ve been giving myself is about to come to an end. And I know I’m not just fascinated with the fact that I can’t touch her—it’s so much more. What she is doing for the weekend, the next week, next month. Fuck, I want to make plans with her.
“Jett.”
Just the sound of my name off her lips makes my jeans snugger. I let her step out of my embrace, but I don’t miss the moment where she hesitates to move.
“All right, let’s hear your rules,” I say, giving in just a bit to pull her close enough to kiss the top of her head. I keep my arm around her as we walk.
“Hmmm, if you guess wrong—”
“How many guesses do I get?”
“One.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Sold.”
Her laugh is the most beautiful sound.
“Okay, so if you guess wrong on the first guess, you have to help me with repairs in my apartment for a week.”
Forced to be around her—that’s hardly a punishment.
“And the second guess …” She taps her chin.
“When I guess right …”
“If you guess wrong”—she twists out from under my arm the moment we reach her floor—“then you have to both help me at the apartment and you have to take Sam and Max to the park, giving your sister and I an afternoon for girls’ time.”
Her smile is so freaking big, there is no way I could ever say no to her.
“Deal,” I say, and because she still hasn’t told me yes to a date, I add, “but if I get it right, we go out, just the two us.”
She licks her lips and nods as she extends her hand to shake on it.
“Deal.”
“You want me to kiss you again,” I say, and her breath hitches.
Her eyes widen and she takes a step back.
“Close,” she says. “I was thinking, why hasn’t he yet?”
Her words have only halfway processed when I step toward her, reaching around her waist to pull her into me. If she doesn’t want me to wait any longer, then I won’t.
“Jett, what are you doing here?” Whit’s voice surprises us both. Charlie jumps away from my reach like I burned her.
I twist to face my sister. “I was just dropping by to see if Max was home. Thought maybe I could take him to the park.” I turn to Charlie. “And I was just asking Charlie if Sam was home and would want to join.”
“Really?” Whit says, her hip to the side and crossing her arms as she narrows her eyes at me.
“Yes, really,” I say.
“I’ll ask Sam, but I’m sure he won’t say no,” Charlie says, opening her door. “Thanks for the offer.”
Once her door is closed, I head inside my sister’s place.
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Jett.” I’ve barely stepped both feet inside. “I don’t like this.”
“Can we not talk about this?” I ask.
Her door is closed and she’s standing in front of me, one hand on her hip and the other ready to poke out my eye.
“You should not be asking her out if you can’t even tell her you’re a cop.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Whit.”
“Well.” She huffs, clearly ready for an argument I didn’t give her. “Are you going to tell her?”
“You already know the answer to that,” I say and glare at her.
“Jett, seriously, you’re not still on that, are you? How will you ever settle down if you can’t even tell the truth to—?”
“And have her follow me because she’s worried about me and then get herself killed in the process … yeah, no thanks.”
Whit’s eyes glaze over, but it doesn’t take away from the anger I see in them. “Not everyone is Mom, Jett. And you can tell Charlie that you’re a cop, just don’t go into detail.”
I’m not taking any chances.
I shake my head and fold my arms.
“Then maybe you should wait to ask her out instead of whatever it is you’re planning to do,” Whit adds.
“And what is it that you think I’m planning to do?” I cross my arms and settle my hip against the counter, waiting for her answer.
“Lie.”
One word. That’s all she gives me.
“Lie,” I repeat.
“Until she knows the truth, any relationship you two create will be based on lies.”
Whit’s right, but I’m not changing my mind. Charlie is the first thing to come into my life that, for once, I know is a good thing. It seems her life is everything the opposite of mine, and until I met her, I never knew how much I craved a normal life.
“I think your blowing this way out of context, Whit.”
“I don’t think I am, Jett.”
“What do you want me to do?” I snap. Both our gazes follow the doorway when we hear the faint noise of Charlie’s door opening and closing. I step over to the window and see her and Sam digging for something in the trunk of her car.
“I want you to stop whatever this is you have going on,” she says. “Until you tell her the truth.”
“I can’t,” I argue. “I don’t want to.”
Whit lets out the most dramatic sigh I’ve ever heard her make.
“Just consider it, okay?” she asks and leaves me to stand alone in her kitchen.
I don’t have even the slightest idea what exactly Charlie and I are. Friends? More than friends? Just attracted? I have no idea, but whatever it is, the last thing I want is for it to end.
“I’m ready!” Sam shouts as he and Charlie step inside the apartment.
“I’m so sorry he just barged in like this,” she says, watching Sam run down the hall to Max’s room. Small voices and then a lot of cheering fill the apartment.
Looks like I’m playing soccer today.
“It’s no problem,” Whit smiles. “I’m pretty excited about this impromptu free time. Should we do something while he has the boys?” she asks Charlie.
“Heck yes, we should.”
“Ready!” both boys shout and run to the door.
I pass Charlie on my way out behind them. “You better start making a list of household work to be done.”
“It’s already made,” she smiles back.
Our eyes lock, and the urge to press my lips against hers is in full force. If Whit hadn’t cleared her voice just now, I’d have kissed Charlie right then.
“I’ll call you,” I say.
“You better.”
I turn for the door as my burner phone goes off with an incoming text.
Clint: My place. 20 min.
I glance up to see both Whit and Charlie starting at me. Whit’s gaze could set fire and Charli
e’s could make a man fall to his knees.
“I … um. I need to go to work.” I hold up my phone as if that will explain it all.
“Whatever,” my sister snaps and pokes her head out the door to call up the boys.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Charlie. “I’ll make it up to them next weekend.”
Her face holds no expression. No twitch of her nostrils. No eyebrow flicker. She doesn’t even blink as she steps toward me.
“Charlie—”
“Your job is important, I get it. I can handle it, but Sam’s just a kid, and the last thing either of us needs is someone who’s just going to let us down.”
She turns just as Sam and Max reach the top of the steps, with questions of why they can’t go anymore racing off their tongues. My eyes meet my sister’s as she smiles, crossing her arms.
“Will he take us another day?” I hear Sam ask.
“No,” Charlie answers without hesitation.
“You better go,” Whit says, taking Max’s soccer bag from him as he heads for his room.
She follows behind him without another word, and I release a heavy sigh.
Once both Clint and Jimmy are behind bars, they will understand. I can’t let criminals roam free in this town. Not when the people I care about are here.
I close the door behind me and head down the stairs.
Charlie will understand. Eventually.
Charlie
Sam comes first.
Whit told me Jett’s job was important to him, but I guess I didn’t realize it was make-plans-and-then-bail-without-a-second-thought type of important. I can handle it, just like I told him, but Sam … well, he deserves more than that.
My cell buzzes again. Jett.
I shake my head. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him to do everything I keep telling him we can’t do, and I hate that I still want him to.
God, I was doing so great, too. I wasn’t giving in, but then I let him have my number and it’s been hard to ignore him after that. He’s sweet and funny and crazy gorgeous. I started to let myself think he might be different, and after I didn’t hear from Clint … I don’t know. I thought things might start to look up for me.
My cell buzzes again and I groan. He isn’t going to give up. I snatch the phone and unlock it, ready to give him a piece of my mind. Instead, I freeze. It’s not a text from Jett.
Clint: I’ll see you soon.
My hands shake as I stare at the message. I haven’t heard from him in two days and now he sends me this. I’ll see you soon. When? How soon? At my apartment? At the bank?
“Did you still want to go to the movies today?” Sam’s interruption as he walks in the door is welcome. He went back across the hall to hang out with Max once Jett left.
“Yeah, did you pick out which one you want to see?” I ask, exiting the text so I can pull up the list of shows for today and book our tickets ahead of time. I have to act normal. I can’t let Sam know anything is going on.
“Well, some of the other guys from the team were going to the park to play ball. I was wondering if I could go with them. Max’s mom said he could go.”
“Yeah, we can do that,” I say. A crowd is a perfect idea.
“You don’t have to come, a bunch of other moms will be there,” he says quickly.
“You don’t want me to come?”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to come, but I mean”—he shrugs and focuses on the floor near his feet—“other kids from the team will be there, and if I show up with my parent, well …”
“You won’t look as cool,” I finish for him, trying not to smile.
“Tyler’s dad can pick us up, and if you want him to, I’ll have him come talk to you before we leave.” His hopeful eyes are hard to say no to. But that text …
“I don’t think it’s a great idea.”
“Please, Charlie.” His small hands come together in front of his chest and he sticks his bottom lip out. “I’ll ask to use Tyler’s dad’s phone and check in whenever you want me to.”
I sigh. “If Tyler’s dad comes up here and gives me his contact information and exactly what time and which park, I am fine with you going without me,” I tell him. But I won’t worry any less. I might even drive by the park at some point.
“Yes!” he cheers and runs back across the hall.
“You told him yes, too?” Whit asks, poking her head inside the apartment. Leaving the door open for the boys to go back and forth is becoming quite the norm. I look up and smile with a nod.
“Do you want to get out a bottle of wine while they are gone?” I ask.
She grins. “That is a fabulous idea, but, unfortunately, I have some errands to run. You could come with me if you want.”
“That’s all right. I think I’m just going to hang around the apartment a bit,” I tell her. I should go, keep myself busy, but a couple hours of silence never hurt anyone. Besides, if soon meant Clint showing up here, it’s best I’m alone if that happens.
“Well, you know how to reach me if you change your mind.”
“Will do,” I say and she winks as she heads back to her place.
Twenty minutes later and the boys are headed to the park and Whit has left for her errands. I wave as they drive away and turn for the mailbox before I head back upstairs.
A large white envelope is folded inside the small box, cramming all the mail I haven’t bothered to collect this week.
I pull out the envelope first, and the yellow sticky on top catches my attention. The lack of a postage stamp is the next thing I notice.
This has the paperwork you’ll need to deposit the money in its correct account. Rush the process.
I pull out the papers, and I don’t need to read them all to know what they are. What the hell does he expect me to do? Rob the bank to get it to him?
I shake the thought. I’m not even going to mention that.
I stuff the envelope under my arm and sort out the junk mail as I jam it into the trash can on my way up the steps.
I’m in unknown territory here. Can I just text the man who has made it clear he’ll kill me and let him know there is flaw to his plan? A flaw he clearly knows but is still failing to understand?
Once my door closes behind me, I freeze. Being in this mess makes me think of Kenzie more than usual, and the urge to watch one of the few short video clips of her that I have saved to my computer hits me hard. I know I shouldn’t, but even knowing that doesn’t stop me. I’ve maybe watched these a total of five times since she’s been gone. And now, even though my hands are clammy as I wait for a response from a man who contacted me only because of a position she put me in, I still miss her.
I grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, sit cross-legged on the couch with my computer in my lap, and press play. A laughing Kenzie and newborn Sam take over the screen. He’s got bubbles around his mouth and she’s kissing his cheeks, side to side. She was the best mom, and, secrets or not, she was the best sister, too.
The next thing I know, Whit is waving her hand in front of my face. I must have zoned out.
“Yeah,” I say, blinking to focus on her instead of the computer.
She grabs the bottle of wine and shakes her head. “Something serious must be happening for you to be sitting here with a bottle of unopened wine that is now warm.”
I look at the bottle and then to her.
“I was working on some stuff,” I say and glance to the computer’s black screen.
“Must have been something way good.”
“It was,” I say as she plops down next to me.
“Want to tell me about it?” she asks.
“Not right now,” I say and close my laptop.
“Have you talked to my brother?” she asks.
“No.”
“Well, I hope he pulls his head out of his ass soon.” She smiles flatly as her phone rings. She pulls it from her purse and her firm smile transforms to all teeth. “I have to take this. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”
<
br /> “Yeah,” I say and push the computer to the couch and stand to walk her out.
Just before I close the door, I hear her voice change and a soft, “Hey you,” comes out, followed by a laugh I’ve never heard before.
I wander back over to where I was sitting; there’s another text from Clint. It’s starting to get to the point where my stomach doesn’t lurch into my throat when I see his name. It’s his replies that make my stomach queasy.
Clint: I make the calls. Not you. You’d be smart to remember that.
Sitting on the couch, I let out a heavy sigh.
Okay, if I have this so-called money, where would it be?
The kitchen? No. Not possible because there isn’t anything big enough in there to hide it, and if there were, I’d have seen it by now.
I scan the living room. It’s not in the trunk the TV sits on. I used to keep blankets in there.
Moving from the couch, I walk down the hallway, glance into my room, and then I look into Sam’s. He’s got plaid sheets on his bed and a new soccer poster on the wall above it. A desk sits in the far corner under his window and a dresser on the other side. Nothing screams “money is hiding here.” Right before I flip the light off, I notice his teddy bear stuffed under his desk.
He’s long past the stuffed animal phase, but this certain one holds a memory for both of us. Kenzie gave it to him on the last birthday she had with him. It was three times his size when she gave it to him, which makes it half his size now. I’d never seen a teddy bear as big as this one till she showed it to him.
It’s so big it could … no.
There is a knock at my door.
Shit. This can’t be Clint.
My heart pounds with each step take.
Should I tell where I think it is?
No. Obviously. Wow, Charlie.
I sneak a look through the peephole, and it isn’t Clint standing there.
It’s Jett.
I open the door and cross my arms.
“I’m not the guy you think I am, Charlie. I’m better. I swear to you I’m better. Let me prove it” is how he starts the conversation.
I roll my eyes and gesture for him to come inside.
“Look, Jett, I won’t lie and say I’m not attracted to you, but there is clearly something between us that won’t let this be easy, and it should be easy and—”