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Authors: Jen Frederick

The Charlotte Chronicles (28 page)

BOOK: The Charlotte Chronicles
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“I see.” And I do. Nick has to maintain a good relationship with his coach, and knowing that the coach dicked over a girl he likes wouldn’t be the way to do that.

“Chip got injured Nick’s rookie year and went from backup to quarterback coach in a matter of a couple years. He comes here regularly to rub it in Lainey’s face. And we grin and bear it because we don’t want to affect Nick’s relationship with the team. He only knows that the father is an asshole and . . .” her voice trails off.

Reese and I turn to see a tall, blond-haired man heading toward our table. He’s clad in a navy polo and chinos, but his coiffed hair has an expensive look to it. By the tightening on Charlotte’s face, this must be Chip.

“Charlie, looking gorgeous as ever.” He places a hand on the back of her chair and another on the table in front of her. The cage he creates shuts the rest of the table out and her in. To say this annoys me would be an understatement. But I get the dilemma for Charlotte and Reese. This is Nick’s coach and someone they don’t want to create conflict with for the sake of Nick, but they also clearly can’t stand him.

Reese has turned away to stare at a nearby television, and Charlotte is suddenly entranced by the napkin in front of her.

Fortunately I can plead ignorance, so I stand up and place my hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Baby, who’s this?”

At the endearment, Chip straightens and offers a big paw of a hand for me to shake. I take it and squeeze it tight. A slight grimace appears, but this is a guy who wants to be perceived as invincible so he tries to exert his own power over me. Back when he was lifting and throwing balls all day he might’ve had a chance, but as a coach he’s gone soft. You can see it in the softness of his hands and the slight paunch that he’s trying to hide behind his tucked-in polo.

“Chip Peters, this is Nathan Jackson, my fiancé and Nick’s brother.”

“You’re the Navy SEAL?” Chip pales beneath his dark tan.

“The very one.” I give his hand one more bone-cracking squeeze and then sit down, drawing my chair close to Charlotte.

Trying hard to hide his pain, Chip folds his bruised fingers in the palm of his other hand. “Nice to meet you. Sorry I can’t stay to chat, but I see my group’s waiting for me.”

We watch as he scuttles into a corner booth where two other similarly clad polo-wearing dudes are quaffing beers.

“So is Nick wearing her down, or is there absolutely no chance?” I ask.

“I think as long as she associates Nick with the football team, he’ll never see the inside of her bedroom.”

“What about you, Reese?” I turned to her other best friend.

“I’m a man in search of a soulmate,” Reese says loftily.

“I hope you find him then.” And I do. Maybe I should look up that old seaman and see if he’s still single. Fuck, wait, am I turning into Cupid? Shaking my head, I turn to Charlotte. “You ready to leave, baby?”

I comb my fingers through her soft, fine strands, rubbing the back of her head. Behind her ear, I trace the path of her shunt that drains the excess fluid off her brain. She’s a miracle. I don’t know how I lived without her.

Her head turns toward me, and the slumberous need in her eyes tells me the massage isn’t as relaxing as I had intended.

“When do you go in for a checkup?” I ask gently with a tap at her neck. Her early letters told of quarterly appointments.

“A couple of days.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Alright.” Her words are slurry, as if she has drank too much, but she’s not had a sip today. Time to go.

“See you later, Reese,” I say without looking at him.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys go on. Just leave me here all by my lonesome.”

“Sorry,” she says as she collects her purse.

“You’re not sorry,” Reese replies.

“You’re right. I’m not sorry, but I still love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She leans down and gives him a kiss goodbye.

As we step out of the air-conditioned bar into the hot, dry Texas night, Charlotte clings to my side.

“You worked up, baby?” I say, bending down so that my mouth is only inches away from her skin.

She breathes out heavily. “You know I am.”

“Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

“I’m hot,” she says. Her words are barely more than a whisper. “And wet. Aching.”

The desire in her eyes must be the kind that lures sailors toward sirens.

I drag her down the side of the building to the darkest corner I can find. Under the eaves of the roof and partially shaded by a bush, I push her against the rough brick exterior.

“You need to start wearing skirts,” I mutter as my attempt to find exactly how wet is stymied by the fit of her shorts.

Her face tilts toward mine, and I capture her mouth. It tastes of tart sweetness. She curls her hand around my neck to bring me closer, and I manage to wiggle two fingers under the tight lace of her panties.

Some exotic and sexy sound vibrates as I shallowly fuck her with the tips of my fingers, but it’s not enough for either of us.

“Not here,” she moans.

Why not here?
my cock asks petulantly. As I marshal the last bits of my self-control, I pull my fingers out. The honey of her cunt glistens on the ends of my fingers. She stares at me as I suck my digits clean.

“Let’s go then,” I say roughly. The ride to her condo is too long, even though it’s only a few minutes away.

We give the security team in her complex a show as I devour her in the corner of the elevator. If she had been wearing a skirt, I’d have been inside her. I content myself with pushing her up against wooden panels and rubbing my erection against her cloth-covered sex. She wraps her legs around my waist as I dry hump her, kissing her savagely. If there was sound on the security feed, they would hear her moans, my grunts, and the wet smack of our mouths.

She’s rabid for me. Her hands are fused to the sides of my head, angling me for better access. Her tongue stabs inside my mouth as if she’s fucking me. Her aggressive desire turns me on even more.

We barely reach her doorway before I’m unzipping her shorts. Her hands are down my jeans, and her nails are making tiny divots in my ass. I’m inside her before her panties hit the floor, and I’m coming before I’ve thrust into her more than a handful of times.

“I love you so goddamn much, Charlotte,” I say. When I pull out, a flood of come drips down her legs.

“I love you too,” she says. I swing her up and carry her into the bedroom, where I spend the next hour making up for my hasty lovemaking at the entrance.

42
Charlotte

R
eturning
to the office after a week away is intimidating. The paperwork has piled up so high in my full inbox it makes me never want to leave again.

“Free agency has started in basketball, and you have three new prospects. Antonio Spence has called twice,” Lainey announces, striding into my office with her tablet. “And Tuvane Richards got picked off the wire by the Wildcats.”

“Remind me never to go away again.” Tuvane got traded two years ago to the North Carolina Cougars and had me handle the move. In the meantime, he’s gotten married. Somewhere on the shelf is his notebook.

“You need to hire more people,” Lainey says.

“At least two.” I spot it. Tuvane’s notebook is on the bottom right in all its blue and orange glory. Thank goodness for team colors. It’s about the only way I can keep everything straight. “But I’m not sure I can even afford two at this point.”

I’ve only been officially in business for three years, and while the books are in the black, hiring two more people and opening another office is an expansion I’m not prepared for.

“Are you really leaving? Nick mentioned something last night.”

“Did you get your babysitter issue worked out?”

"Nice tactic," Lainey says with asperity. "Trying to avoid my question with an uncomfortable one of your own."

I smooth my hand over the cool surface of the walnut desk that my parents gave me when I opened my office here in Dallas. “Honestly the idea of moving is overwhelming. I don’t know anyone in San Diego. All of my friends are here. My business is here. My family is in Chicago. Half the time that I would be in San Diego, Nathan would be gone on some secret mission he can’t speak of. But if I want to spend any time at all with him, I have to be on the West coast because when he is not on a mission he would be in San Diego training.”

“And there’s no chance that he would leave the service to do something else?”

I give her a tiny shrug, which probably doesn’t convey the full amount of helplessness that I feel. “He said he’d quit, but I don’t think he would be able to. Even after telling me he would leave and come with me to Dallas, he kept talking as if we would be living in San Diego. It’s as if his brain wouldn’t accept the words he said to me. It’s a calling for him, so I don’t want to be living here five years from now with him resentful that he left.”

Lainey makes a face. “I get that you love him and have forever, but this is a shitty dilemma you are in.”

“There is no dilemma. The trouble is accepting the right decision.” I try to smile but fail. “Now cheer me up with some gossip. What happened last night?”

She shrugs as if Nick coming over to play house is no big deal. “We played with Cassidy until she fell asleep. That girl loves him so much.”

“He’s a good guy, Lainey,” I say for what seems like the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, her nose scrunches up as if something stinks in the room.

“In the two hours that he was at the house, his phone rang more times than a cash register on Black Friday.”

“He is the starting quarterback for one of the most watched football teams in the country. He’s rich, attractive, and has the body of a god. Of course his phone was ringing, but it doesn’t sound like he answered it.”

“Nick is a great guy to you because for all intents and purposes you’re his sister. To the rest of the female population, he is walking heartbreak.”

This is a familiar and old and boring argument, so I abandon it. No one is going to convince Lainey that the bogeyman in the closet is not a helmet-wearing, pigskin-carrying football player.

“Let’s hire a manager for the bar. You can run this office full time with Reese. I’ll cover all the West coast teams. You and Reese cover the South and Midwest. We’ll hire someone to cover the East coast.”

“I’ll put post an ad.” She makes a note on her tablet. At the doorway, she turns back. “I’m going to visit as much as I can. You’re not leaving your old friends; you’re making new ones.”

“I know.” But it’s sure nice hearing it.

My next task is a phone call is to my parents. It’s one that I’ve been putting off, but Nathan and I both agreed that they would need to be told today.

“Charlotte!” My father answers, and his deep voice is full of affection. No matter the distance or the time, I am secure in my parents’ love. I realize that it is not the move I fear, but the newness of Nate and my reconnection.

“Hey Daddy, when was the last time we saw each other?”

“Father’s Day,” he replies promptly. “You brought your friend that Nick has a hankering for and her sweet little girl. We all went up to the North Shore and had a picnic out on the beach.”

All but Nate, but he’s not been part of our “all” for a long time.

“That was too long ago.”

“Your mama and I can be on a plane tomorrow if you’re missing us. Besides, your mama’s got some news for you.”

His happiness tells me it’s good news. “What is it?”

“She and Noah are selling out their interests in the fund.”

I’m glad I’m sitting down. Dad sold out all his construction interests shortly after I finished treatment in Switzerland. He didn’t want me to be by myself, and he wasn’t interested in working like a dog anymore, as he put it. I loved having him with me, and it made my loneliness bearable when Nick went to college and Nate went AWOL on me. But Mom motored on, almost as if she was in a contest with Noah to see who could make more money.

“She’s tired of it and wants to travel. Noah was relieved. He said he’s been trying to convince her to chuck it all into the river for years now.” Dad laughs. I can see him sitting in the library in the penthouse, a low boy full of some expensive liquor in his hand and his feet up on a cowhide hassock. His face is probably tan against his hair. He says I’m full of my mother’s stock except for my blue eyes and blonde hair the color of wheat, which I inherited from him.

“I’m excited for you,” I say truthfully and then wonder if they’d come out to San Diego for a few months to help with my transition.

“I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something on your mind,” he rumbles.

“Where is Mom?” I don’t want to divulge the news twice.

“In the office. Want me to call her?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a series of clicks and then I hear my mom’s strong voice. “Your father says you have news.”

“Apparently you do as well. I didn’t know you were thinking of retiring.”

“It’s not so much as retiring as changing our scenery.”

“I assume this means hotels and airlines because you once said that camping was for people who hated life.”

“The outdoors and I don't get along.”

That’s an understatement. Mom’s idea of enjoying the outdoors is lying on a lounge chair next to a pool with a big hat shading her skin from the sun. “I’m sure Daddy appreciates the sacrifice you are making.”

He rumbles his amused agreement. “You’re welcome to come with us.”

“I was gone this week, and when I returned I found that my work was having babies faster than hamsters. So as much as I might like the idea of a vacation, I get enough traveling in the form of my job.”

“The invitation is always open. We’ll send you our itinerary, and if you find a break in your schedule, hop on a plane and we’ll take care of the rest. Now what’s so important that we are conferencing together?”

My delay tactics have run out. I don’t have a good way to break the news, so I just blurt it out. “Nate asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

There is a long silence on the other end of the line. So long that I wonder if they have hung up on me or if the connection dropped. “Hello?”

When I do hear a voice, it’s my daddy’s. “We’re still here, darling. We're trying to wrap our heads around the bomb that you dropped.”

“I hope you’re happy for me.” My free hand is clenched so tight around the metal pen, I’m certain I’m going to bend it in half.

Mom clears her throat. “I think the question that we need answered is, are you happy? This came out of nowhere. I didn’t even realize you had any contact with Nathan in years.”

“I was in San Diego getting a player situated, and I had to buy a gift at Tiffany’s for his wife because she wasn’t happy about the move. In the weirdest coincidence, I saw Nate in the store. I admit that for a while I had convinced myself that it didn’t matter that Nathan didn’t love me like I loved him. I thought I’d find someone else, but there wasn’t anyone for me.” My voice is cracking as I relive the anguish of the moment when I believed Nathan was buying a ring for another woman. My parents remain silent. “But as I looked at him through the window I realized I would never, ever love anyone else like I loved him. And something happened to him as well. He’s loved me all along.”

It all sounds terrible as I try to explain it. I wind down, and Mom asks me the question that’s been preying on my mind.

“Nathan lives in San Diego, and you and your business are in Dallas. How is that going to work?”

“Right. So I’m going to move.” I wait, then, with my heart in my throat as I ready myself for the disapproval of the woman whose respect I value more than any other female in my life.

Finally she speaks, “Your daddy and I are so proud of the woman that you have become, Charlotte. My first instinct was to protest because he has hurt you so badly. But you are a wise and wonderful woman who is capable of making her own decisions. We support and love you. And should this decision have a negative outcome, we will still support you. No matter what you do in life, we know that you are doing your very most to make the right choices.”

I can’t stop the waterworks after that.

Dad interjects. “Sometimes you’re the bug on the windshield, and sometimes you’re the driver of the big truck. That’s life. You’re the driver now. If this is the direction you want to go, like your mama said, we support you hundred percent. And if you need an expansion loan, your mom has come into some money recently.”

We all laugh a bit until Mom changes the subject.

“When is your next checkup?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll call you right after.”

“Alright, darling girl,” Daddy drawls. No amount of time in the Midwest has totally eradicated his southern upbringing.


H
ow did it go
?” Nate asks when we meet for dinner. He spent the day with Nick, having received special dispensation to watch practice.

“Better than I thought.” I take a long drink of my beer, which causes him to raise an eyebrow. “How about you?”

“Well, someone is planning the wedding already. You better call my mom if you want to have any say in the matter.”

“I think she probably already knows. I may have talked to her once or twice about it,” I say guiltily.

He smiles. “The shore?”

“Yes, a gazebo. Maybe late autumn or early spring.” I’d planned the whole wedding out when I was eighteen and still believed that Nathan would come back to me after a four-year stint in the Navy. “Your dad proposed to your mom at the shore. It’s perfectly symmetry.”

The side of his mouth curls up and he reaches across the table to capture my hand. Pressing a hot kiss in the middle of my palm, he says, “Let’s do it this autumn, Charlotte. Let’s not wait.”

“Okay.” His enthusiasm is contagious. And I want everything else settled. “I’m moving to San Diego. Lainey and Reese are covering the office here, and I’m going to take care of all the West coast athletes. I’m going to hire someone to handle the East coast.”

He wipes his mouth and carefully places the napkin beside his plate. “I thought I told you I was quitting.”

“I don’t want that. I’m more mobile than you are, and from everything I’ve read and heard, your time as a SEAL is finite. You can’t do this forever, and so while you still can, you should.” I continue to eat even as he stares at me. He can pin his unwavering Special Forces Navy glare at me, but I’m immune most likely because I know he’s done hurting me, both intentionally or unintentionally.

“So you’re up and moving your entire business so you can spend lonely months in San Diego away from your friends and family? No.” He shakes his head resolutely.

“I’m moving the base of my very mobile operation to San Diego to be with my love so that he can properly attend to all of my very demanding needs.” He’s still unconvinced, but I can see a glimmer of relief in his eyes. It’s enough that he’s willing to sacrifice it all for me. “When you’re gone, I’ll come back here, sleep in Nick’s guest room and keep him out of trouble.”

“And when I’m there, I promise to see to your every need,” he says. The husky timbre of his words sends a shiver up my spine.

“Are we done here?”

“We’re done having dinner.” He stands and lifts me to my feet. “But the rest of the night has just started.”

S
ated
, I draw aimless patterns on his chest. It heaves with every labored breath as he tries to calm himself. Nate’s body is a machine, one that he works hard to bring me pleasure. There’s something incredibly sexy about watching his big chest rise and fall in a rapid, uneven cadence. I did that.

His composure and iron will are somewhere under the bedcovers that lie in a haphazard pile at the end of the bed, and in these moments, in the afterglow, his power is banked and his aggression is tamed.

“What’s the story behind your tattoos?” I ask. The one on his arm is a skull covered by a medieval helmet. Out of the helmet are two curling horns that wrap around the biceps.

He turns his head slightly and lifts his shoulder to eye the one I’m pointing to. “Mostly drunken stupidness.”

“I thought that it was illegal to get a tattoo while under the influence?” The tattoo is still dark, but I can tell it’s not one of his newest ones. There’s a faded, subdued quality to the ink.

“Only in the U.S. I got this one in Finland. It’s the Norse god, Hödr, a warrior who was tricked into killing his brother. He was exiled, and Odin had another son, sired for the sole purpose of killing Hödr.”

“That’s morbid.”

“I’ve not been in a good place for a long time,” he admits softly.

BOOK: The Charlotte Chronicles
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