Kissing Charlie

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Kissing Charlie Page 17

by Elsa Winckler


  Lindsay touched the ring, her eyes also bright with tears. “This way, she’ll be with us all day.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Eleanor and Brooke,” they said together, and laughed through their tears.

  As she and Lindsay ran down the stairs, Charlie wiped her tears. She wanted to savor every moment of this day. She was getting married to the love of her life.

  Logan was watching the opening of the big marquee tent, when a waving hand caught his attention. It was Anna. She smiled broadly when he looked in her direction. Next to her were the rest of his team from work, who had all traveled to Alisson over the past few days.

  Neither he nor Charlie wanted a big wedding and everyone who was there that day was someone close to them.

  He returned his gaze to the opening of the tent. He couldn’t wait to see Charlie again. Although it had been a very busy day, he’d missed her.

  The past five weeks had been hectic. Fortunately, he’d discovered that Peter was very good at his job, and with Anna’s help, things were running smoothly at the office. He’d probably go to Seattle several times a month for meetings, but he had no problem doing that as long as he could always return to Charlie.

  She was in Alisson and that was home now.

  “You nervous?” Blake asked.

  Logan shook his head. “Just excited. Thanks for agreeing to stand here with me,” he said.

  “Of course,” Blake said.

  “Let me know when I can return the favor.”

  But Blake shook his head. “No, getting married is not for me. In my line of work—”

  But there was a movement at the tent opening and Blake stopped talking.

  The first one to enter was little Connor. He was carrying the small cushion with the rings and was clearly taking his responsibility seriously. He looked over his shoulder, and only started walking down the short aisle when Lindsay and Brooke, Charlie’s two bridesmaids, also appeared.

  The women looked beautiful, and Logan winked at his sister and new sister-in-law before quickly turning his gaze back to the opening of the tent.

  The music changed and there she was. Glorious in a white, layered skirt and a shimmering pearl-white top that left her shoulders bare, was his bride. On her brother’s arm.

  His heart just about jumped out of his body. Her beautiful, long hair was hanging loose, the way he loved it, and she was wearing the earrings he’d sent her that morning. She nodded and smiled at the small group of people on either side of the aisle before she looked up at him.

  Her whole face lit up, the way it always did when she saw him. His heart missed a beat. He adored the way she loved—openly, uninhibited, passionately.

  Gavin shook his hand, hard, before he joined Blake.

  Finally, he could touch her again.

  “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” He took her hand.

  “Missed you, too.” She smiled up at him. “What is this place? It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “The homestead next door is absolutely lovely.”

  “I’m glad you like it—it’s our new home. You did say you’ve always dreamed about living on a ranch.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can’t believe you remembered that I said that!”

  “I remember everything you’ve ever said,” he said as they took their place in front of the altar. “Lots of space for all the kids.”

  “Then we’ll have to get more than one dog.”

  “Of course.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Her eyes shone even more brightly than before.

  “Another thing—it’s the ranch my dad owned.”

  Gasping softly, she hugged him. “I’m so glad for you.”

  The pastor cleared his throat and they turned toward him. Time to get married. To his Charlie.

  It was very late when Logan finally carried Charlie into their new bedroom. He put her down slowly and she looked around her.

  “Wow, it’s so big!” she smiled.

  “For all those kids we’ll have.”

  But she was walking toward the big painting of herself his mom had done.

  “Your mom?” she asked as he put his arms around her from behind.

  “I wanted to buy it, but she nearly had a fit. Our wedding present, she says. You know what I saw the first time she showed me this?”

  “How much I love you?”

  “Exactly,” he murmured as his mouth trailed a path down her face, over the satiny curve of her shoulder.

  She lifted her hand and dragged his head lower. “And now I’m going to mess up your hair; you okay with that?” Grinning, she turned around in his arms.

  “Counting on it.”

  And then no words were necessary. He was finally home. With Charlie.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Melissa Keir and Inkspell Publishing for being a part of this journey – your support and encouragement mean so much to me.

  I also have to thank the lovely Jeannie Steinman, also an author, who lives in Montana and was willing to share her knowledge of the beautiful state with me – I so appreciate your time and help.

  Thanks to all the readers for your support and feedback – I couldn’t have done this without any of you.

  And as usual, a big thank you to my own real-life hero of 46 years, Theo, who cheers me on from the sides and who diligently reads all my words.

  I hope you’ll enjoy the journeys of the different characters as they find love in the fictional town of Alisson, Montana when they least expetect it.

  Love

  Elsa

  sNEAK pEEK AT Love, In Writing

  Chapter One

  Margaret stepped into the elevator. Her shoes—with the ridiculously high heels that had looked so pretty in the store—felt like vices. She pulled the neckline of the tiny black dress to cover as much cleavage as possible, and groaned. It didn’t help; there simply wasn’t enough material.

  Praying no one else would want to use the elevator, she pushed the button on the panel. Enough people had seen her near-naked state as it was. Another punch at the button indicated Margaret’s tide of frustration boiling up inside. Why wouldn’t the doors close?

  Perhaps going home was the best idea after all. She didn’t have to stay in her brother Josh’s flat. Her own comfortable bed in Kommetjie wasn’t that much farther from Sea Point. Only round the mountain, really. Yesterday, when her brother suggested she spend the night in the guestroom, it sounded like a logical way to avoid driving the extra fifty kilometers. At the time it seemed like a good idea, but after this disastrous evening, she only wanted to get home.

  Why couldn’t she stand up to her family? A vicars-and-tarts party. She shuddered. Trust her cousin Louise, who was turning thirty, to pick such a theme for her birthday party. She should have refused to go. She had hoped a night out would stop her worrying about the financial state of her bookshop for a few hours, but Louise’s catty remarks about how she was wasting her inheritance only made her feel worse.

  And of course, she should have refused Josh’s offer to stay over at his place in Sea Point. But mostly, for once in her life, she should have had the guts to stand up to Louise the minute her cousin had begun to coax her into changing her demure vicar’s costume for this scrap of fabric.

  And then Louise had insisted she meet a good friend of hers. Margaret rested her head against the mirror in the elevator and closed her eyes. The good friend’s eyes had never even met hers. His gaze had been glued to her cleavage the whole time. She’d finally managed to escape the octopus-like arms of Tim or Tom or whatever the man’s name was. It took time and the last shreds of her patience to convince him no, she wasn’t playing hard to get, she really, truly wasn’t interested in a roll in the sack, as he’d so movingly put it.

  The doors finally closed. She opened her eyes, only to stare straight into a pair of gorgeous, pale blue ones. An incredibly attractive man lounged against the wall of the elevator, arms folded, his insolent stare raking her from head to toe. Where had
he come from?

  Her first instinct was to try and cover up her cleavage, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She lifted her chin. Surely the elevator should have stopped by now?

  “You’ll be the second one tonight,” he said quietly, and smiled.

  Stupefied, she looked at him. “I beg your pardon? Second one?”

  Unhurriedly, he stepped closer to her. She was in the corner of the elevator and couldn’t move.

  “There was also one in the restaurant where I was trying to have my dinner. Who told you about my apartment? How did you know I’d be here? Who are you?”

  He stood awfully close to her making it hard to breathe properly. Tall, tanned, short, light brown hair. The bottom half of his face stubble-covered, making him look very sexy.

  His lips were moving, spewing out a barrage of questions but she couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. The doors closed and the elevator started to move.

  “Um...I’m sorry, what?”

  He was now standing so close to her she was forced to tip her head back. He reached out a hand and caressed her cheek, kindling embers smoldering just beneath her skin.

  “Look, you’re pretty enough and I really wouldn’t mind taking you up to my flat. Just tell me how you knew where I lived. You won’t be the first girl to stalk me and you probably won’t be the last, either. But tell me. How. Did. You. Know?”

  Margaret gaped. His mouth was moving but it took a few minutes for her befuddled brain to process what he was saying. She was fascinated by his face, the movement of his lips, the taut skin of his cheeks. Her eyes couldn’t move away from him. He was really beautiful. What was he saying? Gradually, his questions penetrated her brain.

  “What... Who are you? You must be mistaken. I was at a par—”

  He nodded and put his hands into his pockets. “Is this how you’re going to play it? You’re going to pretend you don’t know who I am?” He was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile.

  She had no idea what the man was talking about. All she knew was she had to get out of the elevator, and fast.

  Margaret swallowed and shook her head. Breathing had become so difficult and for a minute, she worried she might faint. He was standing right in front of the door and she started to squeeze past him so she could get out as soon as the elevator stopped. He turned with her, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Like I said, I don’t mind taking you up to my flat...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You really do have the most amazing eyes.”

  He walked closer, and she stepped back. And still he moved closer. She tried to step farther back, but was blocked by the side panel behind her. Their faces were so close together, she could see the tiny flecks in his eyes. His musky male scent seeped through her entire being. She swallowed. Althouhg he was scowling, she didn’t feel threatened. His gaze dropped and a hiss escaped through his teeth.

  Margaret looked down. The top of her lacy, red bra was clearly visible from this angle. Her eyes gaze flew back to his.

  Leisurely, his gaze connected with hers again. The sudden flash of desire in his eyes robbed her of the last of her breath. As if in a trance, he lifted his hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. With a look of fierce concentration, he trailed his fingers down her cheek.

  His eyes darkened; he cupped her face in his hand. Around them, the air sizzled with strange electricity. He had the palest of blue eyes. A sound penetrated her befuddled brain. Oh, my goodness, it had come from her throat. His eyes mirrored the confusion she was experiencing. Then, as if stung, he dropped his hand and stepped back.

  “But not tonight, okay? I’m too tired,” he said in a clipped voice. The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and he quickly disappeared.

  The doors closed again. Oxygen, she needed oxygen. Margaret gulped in some air and sagged against the wall. What on earth had happened here? Who was this man? What did he think she wanted? Too many questions to process at this time of night. She looked down at her hands. They were trembling. She had almost allowed him to kiss her. Even worse, she had nearly taken the initiative and kissed him. She had to get home quickly. Her heart was racing; her palms were sweaty. Why would she be in such a panic? Yes, the man was attractive, but she’d never reacted like this to other attractive men. He had completely mesmerized her.

  When the elevator stopped on the floor where Josh had his flat, she stared at the empty corridor for a minute then pressed the button to go down again. She’d finally made up her mind. After what had nearly happened, she was not staying in this building another second. She pressed her hand against her heart. It seemed to be settling down. Finally.

  On the way down, the elevator stopped on the second floor. The doors opened. The man she’d seen before stepped in and stopped in his tracks. Her heart began its crazy galloping again. The doors closed behind him and the elevator moved.

  “So you’re still around? Well, darling, if you really want to, I’m happy to oblige but I need to get something from my car.”

  Her eyes grew huge.

  He smiled at her. “You really are persistent, aren’t you?”

  What was he talking about? She tried to speak, but her mind was a complete blank. Meeting drop-dead gorgeous men in elevators was so not part of her boring life.

  It was crazy to react in this way. What was wrong with her? And then it struck her. Of course. This was “The Face” she’d been looking for. She’d been trying to find a face for the hero in her latest romance novel for over a month now. She’d browsed through magazines, searched the internet, tried to pick out that one striking face in a crowd, one who would be her hero’s, but it had never been the right one.

  And there he was. She’d found him. Tonight of all nights, when she hadn’t even been looking, she found him.

  ***

  A hardcore Science Fiction writer and a softhearted romance novelist clash on the sunny South African coast...

  Margaret Parker is a hopeless romantic whose fantasies fuel her writing. For Graham Connelly, science fiction is the perfect genre to express his cynical worldview. A chance meeting in a lift leaves them both interested and aroused — with no clue as to the other's identity.

  Margaret has been looking for a face to match her new fictional hero — and Graham's is it. Graham has been looking for proof that innocence and optimism still exist — and he's found it in Margaret. But fantasy isn't reality, and both Margaret and Graham are used to controlling their fictional worlds. Can they step off the pages long enough to find their own happy-ever-after?

  She writes romance. He science fiction.

  A relationship seems unlikely, can love find a way?

  Available Where Books Are Sold...

  About the Author

  Elsa has been reading love stories for as long as she can remember and when she ‘met’ the classic authors like Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskell, Henry James The Brontë sisters, etc. during her English Honours studies, she was hooked for life.

  She married her college boyfriend and soul mate and after 46 years, 3 interesting and wonderful children and 4 beautiful grandchildren, they are now fortunate to live in the picturesque little seaside village of Betty's Bay, South Africa.

  She likes the heroines in her stories to be beautiful, feisty, independent and headstrong. And the heroes must be strong but possess a generous amount of sensitivity. They are of course, also gorgeous! Her stories typically incorporate the family background of the characters to better understand where they come from and who they are when we meet them in the story.

  Webpage: www.elsawinckler.com

  Personal Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/elsa.winckler

  Author Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/ElsaWincklerRomanceAuthor?ref_type=bookmark

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/elsawinckler @elsawinckler

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6557709.Elsa_Winckler

  Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elsawinckler/

  Wattpad: http://www.wattp
ad.com/user/elsaw1

  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elsaw1/

 

 

 


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