Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (32 page)

Chase looked at me, startled. He knew. He had to know. Do I talk to him now? I hadn’t even had a cup of coffee.

“What happened to you calling me Charlie?” he asked, completely derailing me.

“Oh,” I whispered. “You want me to call you Charlie?”

His eyes welled up. “More than you know,” he said walking back over to me and taking my hands. “But only if you want to.” I watched him swallow hard.

My heart chose to ignore my head at that point, and took over. I lifted a hand and cupped his scruffy face. I brought my lips to his and tenderly brushed mine to his. “Okay, Charlie.” At that, he pulled me tight into him and placed a hand at the back of my head. He pressed his lips to mine harder, licking at the seam, and I immediately opened my mouth to him. Our hands clutched at each other and our tongues tangled and caressed. I realized that the licorice taste in his mouth had become my favorite flavor. I moaned with the deliciousness.

When we parted, I asked. “Do you always taste like Good’n Plenty candy?”

He laughed. “Probably,” he confessed. He went over to the gumball machine and twisted out a handful of candy and brought it over to us. He offered me some, and I chose a pair of pink candy coated cylinders and popped them in my mouth. “My dad got me hooked on ’em. It was his favorite candy. Now it’s mine,” he said popping the rest into his mouth. When he was done chewing, he continued. “It’s actually how I got my name.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he started to sing the jingle from the commercial of the 1950s.

Choo choo Charlie was an engineer,

Choo choo Charlie had a train we hear,

He had an engine and it sure was fun,

He used Good’n Plenty candy to make the train run.

This next part of the song, I knew and joined him.

Charlie says ‘Love my Good’n Plenty…’

We both started to laugh. I pointed at one of the pictures on the wall. “I thought you were named after your dad?”

“That’s not how he told me the story,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Is that your dad?” I asked.

Cha—
Charlie
pulled one of the photos off the wall, smiling.

“Yeah. He died when I was just six. We used to have so much fun.” Charlie jumped up and sat on the work surface. “I used to sit right here and ‘help’ my dad.” He fidgeted with the watch. “This was my dad’s, too,” he whispered, and took a slow breath. Staring at the watch, he said, “Then one day… massive stroke. No one ever saw it comin’.” He turned his attention back to the picture a moment, then pinned it back to the wall.

“Wanna help?” he asked, jumping off of the worktop and pointing at the car.

“Other than pumping gas, I’m useless,” I replied.

“You just need to turn the key,” he laughed.

“I can do that.” He opened the door, and I slid behind the wheel. My feet wouldn’t reach the pedals, so Charlie helped me adjust the seat and pointed out the gear shifter and ignition. I half feared it was going to be a tricky car with a clutch, but was grateful that it was an automatic transmission. I admired the vintage dashboard, shiny chrome and simple numbering. The radio had the pushbuttons and dial that I had seen in older movies. The steering wheel was thin and delicate looking, but solid to the touch. Off on the passenger side of the grooved metal band that spanned the front of the car was a script medallion that said “Thunderbird.” I mentally patted myself on the back for correctly identifying the kind of car it was.

“Okay, when I say,” he said grabbing a couple of wrenches and leaning over the edge, his head under the hood. All I saw sticking out from the edge of the car, was his ass. Memories of my hands on his ass and his hips thrusting into me…my pending orgasm climbing and climbing… I felt my arousal heat up between my legs with the recollection. I squeezed my legs together, desperately seeking some sort of release.

“Phoebs?”
Charlie
said, peeking at me from behind the hood, catching me ogling his derrière. He smirked as my face grew hot from embarrassment.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“You can turn it over now.”

“Oh! Right!” I reached for the keys and gave a turn. There was a grind, grind, grind, but nothing was catching to start the engine.

“Hang on a sec,” he said and adjusted a couple of things. “Again,” he called.

I turned the keys. “Give her just a little bit of gas, but not too much,” he instructed.

I did as he said, but just the whine of an engine unwilling to cooperate.

“Shit,” he said, tossing the tools on the workbench. “I just wish I could get this baby going.”

“Maybe you just need a good breakfast,” I suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, opening the door and pulling me from the car. Hand-in-hand we headed to the house. Something about being next to Charlie just seemed to make the world right. At least here in Georgia. In New York I would break it off. As soon as he turned back into Chase. I would enjoy Charlie for a little longer.

I helped
Charlie
make breakfast for the four of us: hash browns, bacon and scrambled eggs, letting him handle the bacon and eggs, while I shredded the potatoes and onion and started them in the large cast iron skillet. Cooking alongside Charlie wasn’t something I ever saw myself doing. We worked well together. To see him in this environment was so different from his on-set persona, all cocky and full of himself, and always “on.” Here in the country, at home, he was confident, but reserved, casual, and even vulnerable. I wondered what it would be like if he were more like this to the public. I had a suspicion that he would never be like
this
to the public, but his shaved head would certainly give pause when he returned to the paparazzi.

S
omething wasn’t right. Phoebe was off. I’d noticed it when she came into the barn. Something was in her head, and it was all wrong. She was trying to distance herself. What did I do? What did I say? Was last night too much in the light of day? Did she regret saying that she loved me? I knew she was a private person, but skinny-dipping in a private lake, making love under the stars, those were romantic things.

I was trying my best to open up to her. To show her how much I cared, and who I really was. I’d never done that before and it was scaring the shit out of me, but for her, I’d take fear. I’d use it. She was the only thing that made sense. I needed her strength. I just hoped I could give her something in return.

B
reakfast was a little awkward. I sensed that Shannon was looking for a sign that Charlie and I had talked about the test. Silently, I decided that I was going to wait. I wanted to see what he’d be like when we got back to New York. Our flight was early tomorrow, and what was just one more day, right?

After breakfast, we cleaned up and Charlie asked me to take a walk.

We started walking in silence around the lake.

“So, I have this thing in LA next week. Friday. A screening for
Book Ends.
I’d love it if you would come.”

He was asking me to fly across the country for a screening? Okay, maybe now was the time.

“Chase—”

“
Charlie,
” he interrupted.

“
Chase,
” I insisted. I winced as his face fell. But it had to be done. “I think we need to face facts. We are just two very different people, I’m just out of a bad relationship and was looking forward to being single for a while, and…” I couldn’t finish. The look on his face choked me up.

“Phoebe, I’m trying here. This isn’t normal for me. Opening up and all. Risking things…But for you I want to change. I… I…”

“We can still be friends,” I tried.

“Fuck! Not the ‘we can be friends’ bit. No. Phoebe… what we have… It’s real! It’s not some passing whim. What I feel, when we are even just making breakfast, it’s amazing. The sex, well, I don’t think I have to tell you that what we have there is off the charts. You get me. I think I get you. We fit. We connect. We. Are. It.”

He was right. How could I deny it? But when he learns…

“What happened from last night on that pier to this morning? What happened that caused you to change your mind? I can’t keep up with you.”

“It’s not that simple, Chase.”

“It’s Charlie, damn it!” he spat back. His eyes grew dark. “I don’t care what you say, Phoebe. I love you, and you love me. It’s
that
simple.” He cupped my face and I couldn’t help but to lean into his large, strong, capable hand. He brushed his thumb over my lips, and my insides coiled. He looked deeply into my eyes with his amazing violet-blues and I teared up.

Why was I doing this? Why was he doing this?

“Tell me,” he whispered, then placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “Tell me what I can do to fix whatever it was I did wrong. Tell me what I have to do to not lose you. I can’t lose you, Sweets.”

My heart pounded against my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was because Chase was so close, and touching me, and his voice, and those eyes… or if it was out of pain for Chase, and his plea to ‘not lose’ me…I thought of his dad, his step-dad, Abbie, and now his mom was facing mortality.

“I love you, Phoebe. You don’t have to say it back, but know that I love you. And I will do anything to prove it,” he said, his southern drawl really coming forward now.

I couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. I hiccuped and the tears that had been damming, burst from my eyes. Chase… Charlie… pulled me in tight. His arms and scent soothing me the way nothing else in the world could. I loved how his scruffy chin brushed on my temple. I wanted desperately to tell him that he was right. But I was so scared. It was only a matter of time.

A phone started ringing. It wasn’t my phone. It was Charlie’s.

“Shit. That’s Michael,” he said reaching for his back pocket. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. Either the apartment his gal found accepted my offer or has a counter offer, or it’s about NYU. Or both. I’m serious about sticking around for you, Phoebe. You’ll see. I’m not acting.”

“I’ll let you talk to him privately. I have to use the ladies room, anyway,” I said, and I headed to the house.

I spent the afternoon hiding in the kitchen with Shannon. We baked a storm of cookies for a fundraiser her church was having. Thankfully, she didn’t push me about the looming 600-pound gorilla. Charlie, graciously giving me space, popped in stealing cookies from time to time, but he spent the afternoon back in the garage trying to get the T-bird running.

When it came time for dinner, I was exhausted and only slightly curious as to why we hadn’t talked about what we were going to cook for dinner. Just as I was about to ask, a horn honked outside. Shannon’s face brightened and she gasped, drawing her hands to her face. “He did it,” she muttered.

Not even removing her apron, she dashed to the front of the house and out onto the porch, and I was right behind her. There sat Charlie, in the red Thunderbird convertible, in the driver’s seat of the car purring like a wildcat. He revved the engine and Shannon shot down the stairs to admire the car. She slipped into the front seat. Charlie shot me his stellar smile, the one that showed just how happy he was, and blew me a sweet kiss, and the two took off, laughing.

I sat on the porch steps and admired how close Charlie and his mom were. He knew how happy getting that car working would make his mom, and he didn’t give up. But that was his mom. Unconditional love of a mother and son. Would he take his love back from me when he learned of my shame? As I sat and worried myself sick over my situation with the pregnancy I never wanted, and Charlie’s proclamation, and feeling so welcome in this little family, and my job—omigod, my job. When we get back tomorrow and they all see what Charlie did to his hair, his beautiful hair, would I even have a job? And what was my mother going to say? And Dickwad? And… and… and…

I stewed for a good ten minutes before Charlie and his mom came back up the driveway, Shannon now behind the wheel. She parked the car, and Charlie jumped out and ran around to open the door for her. They came running up the steps laughing, arm-in-arm.

“Go get dressed, Sweets. We’re going to Spotlight Sam’s,” Charlie boomed.