Play It Again, Charlie (18 page)

“I'm not ignoring her,” Charlie lied, and at the knowing silence on the other end he ran a touch through
his
hair. He had honestly forgotten to take his cell with him today. “She wants to... .” Will was way too close. Charlie inhaled, then dropped his voice. “Ella esta soltera y no me dejara solo.” His sister didn't want to be single alone. From a few feet away, he could hear Will's quiet gasp and then the muttering. He didn't look back. The droplets clinging to Will's hair made it too hard to focus. “Ella quiere... .” He couldn't think of any words to say what he was thinking so that his grandmother would understand. “Fix me up,” he finished finally. He wasn't going to tell his grandmother just who Ann thought was right for him. He didn't think she'd understand “twink,” and if she did, he did not want to know about it.

It would probably be a
telenovela
definition, anyway. But he knew the English words had made Will even more curious; he had dropped the towel.

“Carlos, you are
el patriarca
. The man. You lead by example. You marry, and your sisters will marry. And do not tell me I am old-fashioned.” Nana was upset enough to get up again. He could hear her banging around the kitchen, opening and closing things. “Katia talks big for a girl with a daughter and no man.”

He guessed that word of Katia's latest breakup had gotten back to Nana, probably through Ann. Katia would have earned herself a glare for a remark like that, and he tried not to smirk. She should have known better than to argue about modern values with the woman who had taken her in when she'd been pregnant and alone.

“How am I supposed to"— Charlie couldn't help a fast look over at Will—"
casarme
?” was all he said, as quietly as he could wonder how he was supposed to get married, and his abuela promptly told him to shut up.

“
Callete
, Carlos
precioso
.” She raised her voice, then sighed. “You are too like
mi nina dulce
, your mother.” Nana would be crossing herself at the mention of his mother, and Charlie lowered his head. “Like your sisters, you don't understand. So the men don't stay. They were fools, like your father.”

“Nana.” He did butt in this time when his face felt hot. “Abuelita.”

“Katia
con el idiota
on that motorcycle! Anita and her boss! And that
policia pendejo
... .”

“Abuelita.” Charlie exhaled and tossed another look at Will, who was watching him with round eyes. Charlie covered the phone again, but Will moved before he could speak, backing up toward the living room. It wasn't much of a distance, but it would do for now. He would have nodded gratefully, but Will was still listening. Nana kept on talking.

“Like your father, and you will never be happy if you don't realize this. They need to see a good man to know one. That is what they need from you.”

That didn't sound like anything from a
telenovela
. Charlie stopped.

“Have you and Tia Rosa been watching daytime talk shows again?”

“Rosa doesn't understand the world around her.” Nana could never resist the chance to dig at her sister, not that Charlie was Rosa's biggest fan either. She didn't like him babysitting unsupervised and had made that clear. “And it was not a talk show, the host was a
doctor
.” Nana mumbled something, and Charlie gathered that Rosa must have had more to say on the subject of how his sisters were sluts and Charlie was a pervert. Nana skipped right past that as though she'd never heard it, which was her usual reaction to her sister's opinions. “If you are not going to give me more grandchildren, then at least bring home a good, strong boy and manage your sisters.”

“I don't think anyone has ever managed my sisters,” Charlie commented dryly, but he let out a breath.

“Don't be stupid, Carlos. You know what you are, as they do. They are waiting for you.” It was no use pointing out that Missy was married with children and seemed happy enough. He almost mentioned that his grandmother ran the household and the family, that Tia Rosa ran her family with an iron fist and Tio Miguel had only thought he'd been in charge, but held it all back just in time.

“Because I am the man, okay.” He gave in and repeated what he knew he was supposed to say, then scowled and went to look around the corner into the living room. Will was leaning over the couch again. He was probably trying to coax Sam out of hiding, but he wasn't making a sound.

He slid his gaze to the side when Charlie appeared, but Charlie saw his grin. He supposed it was fair, since he'd been laughing at Will earlier.

“Hazme caso hijito, a tus hermanas, eres como un padre,” Nana told him, and Charlie shut his eyes.

“I know.” He really didn't want to talk about how his sisters thought of him as a father, especially now. At least he was pretty sure Will didn't speak Spanish and he was spared further humiliation. “Nana.”

“
I
will tell Ann to leave you alone,” Nana promised him, then she tapped the phone since she couldn't rap his hand. “For now.” It wasn't an idle threat, though if Charlie told Ann to butt out, she would cry. “As long as you are well.”

“I'm
fine
. I've done my exercises. I even worked in the garden today.”

“Good. Working in the ground— ”

“Is real work,” Charlie finished for her. “I know. I'll send you a picture.”

“Then if you can come and visit soon, yeah? It's been too long.” It wasn't a question, and Charlie smiled despite himself. “
Mijo
. You can come and I will make tamales.”

“Okay,” he agreed, lowering his voice again. It
had
been about two months. He glanced over at Will, being quietly nosy, and then at Sam, who appeared on the other side of the couch without Will seeming to notice. “But not for a few weeks. I... I'm... .” Will raised his head, then made a show of glaring at Sam. “Busy.” That explanation wasn't going to be enough, but for today it would do. “I need to go clean up now, Nana.”

“Por supuesto. And speak to your sisters.”

“Of course.” He sighed, tired again, but nodded.

Will slid back to his feet. He bent a little to wiggle his fingers at Sam, but Sam continued to ignore his efforts. Charlie cleared his throat and looked away from Will when he felt his smile starting to return. Nana couldn't see it, but she would
know
. “I love you. I'll talk to you again later this week.”

“I love you, Carlos,” she said, exactly the way she'd always done since he'd been fourteen and she had stopped calling him Carlito. “Be good.” Then she hung up. Charlie ended the call too and looked down as he put his phone in his pocket. Will straightened.

“Family?” he guessed. Charlie studied him for a beat or two, but Will was hiding his grin now.

“My abuela— my grandmother,” Charlie answered shortly, and Will's smile reappeared. He slid a few steps closer, the cat apparently forgotten.

“Don't tell me, you have a thing for Latin men.” Charlie sneered, though lightly. Will pooh-poohed that with one tiny wave.

“I won't lie. Like many things about you, Charlie, I found that very intriguing.” Will's look was sly, but he moved on. “But I think I mostly like the
way
you talked to her.”

Charlie stopped. “How did I... ?”

“Patient. Sweet. I don't know, I think I like that voice of yours best.”

“Best?” Charlie swallowed the question and any others about what kind of voices he had. He affected a shrug. “You know grandmothers... family,” he said instead.

“Right.” Will glanced to the side. “Family.” His voice was weak until he turned and focused back on the cat. Charlie tensed, but apparently Will's interest was all in Sam. “What's wrong with your cat? I know doesn't like me, but he's just
staring
at you.”

Charlie tore his eyes off Will and took in Sam, sitting quietly like he never did when hungry, no doubt because of Will.

“I think he's hungry. It's about his dinnertime.”

“It's late, isn't it?” Will pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. Charlie noted its reappearance with a hidden sigh and then a blank stare as he realized that he hadn't seen or heard it for hours. Not since the ride to the nursery.

Will glanced down at the screen, looking shocked. He probably had quite the buildup of calls and messages to deal with. Charlie waited for a second, then went back to the kitchen. He should start getting cleaned up.

“I had no idea it had gotten so late,” Will called out as Charlie chose some wet food and put it in Sam's bowl. Sam inched around Will, though he'd been nowhere near Will a moment before, and slipped through Charlie's legs to bury his face in his bowl. Charlie looked over on his way to rinse out the can to see Will typing. He finished with a flourish and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “You just got purred. Aw, he wuvs his daddy Charlie.”

“I think that's more for the food.” Charlie tossed the can in the recycle bin under the sink and walked to the edge of the room.

“Speaking of food... .” Will rubbed his stomach, “I could use some. Hey, I worked hard today,” he continued before Charlie could say anything. “And I only ate lunch, no breakfast.” As though he had to justify himself to Charlie for wanting to eat, he didn't stop until Charlie interrupted him. “Fast food isn't even really food.”

“That's my fault, sorry.” Charlie put up a hand so Will would take a second to breathe. “You did work hard.”

“Exactly!” It was a small hop, but still a hop. “So I deserve something good.”

“Well... .” Charlie made a vague gesture at the air to indicate stirring. “I don't know what your plans are, but you should have time to make something before you go out.” He wasn't sure if he should say he had a good time, if that was too formal of a way to let Will know it was okay to leave. He pushed out a breath at the lack of reaction from the other man, then gave up. “If you're going to cook.”

Will stared at him, then slowly shook his head from side to side. “First of all, it's afternoon, Charlie. Evening. Parties, the good ones, don't start until nighttime.” Will crossed his arms. “And second... . Cook?”

“You don't cook?” Charlie answered sarcasm with sarcasm, his face only stinging a little at the reminder of his lack of a social life and how easily Will had known that about him. “Cooking is ‘just chemistry'.” He crooked his fingers in exaggerated air quotes.

“Well, it isn't. I'm pretty sure it's some kind of magic.” Will uncrossed his arms to flop them helplessly. “Why else would they have all those cooking schools? You need a
degree
. It's like Hogwarts.”

“Tell me those aren't the last books you read.” Charlie leaned against the wall and saw Will's eyes spark.

“Why read when there are movies?” he countered, and it was only at the first brush of warm hands across his shoulders that Charlie's brain caught up and realized that Will had moved back in.

“I'm sure there's logic in there somewhere, but I'm not going to waste time looking for it.” The words slipped out, and then Charlie shook his head at himself. For some reason when Will was around he found himself either being sarcastic or barking out orders. “Why whenever I'm... .” He didn't want to say “rude,” that would be admitting too much. “Snarky,” he substituted, “do you seem so amused?”

“I like to think you killed a man. It's the romantic in me,” Will answered smoothly and grinned when Charlie stared at him.

“What the— ?” Charlie started, then he shook his head. “From a movie?”

“Somebody needs to educate you in the classics.” For someone trying to sound sad, Will mostly looked like he was about to burst. Alicia had the same look when she thought something was hilarious. “
That
was
Casablanca
. Not just
a
movie, but
the
movie.” Will tapped his mouth, still amused. “Come on, you must have seen a few movies yourself. You're not half bad at the banter once you get riled up, Charlie.”

“I'm not riled up,” Charlie huffed, because he wasn't, even if his heart was pounding. Will arched an eyebrow and looked smug.

“Maybe you're just hungry too. All that bending and lifting and sweaty, filthy work.” Will's eyes slid down and then up. Suggestive would have been an understatement. “I bet you're starving.” He stopped leering long enough to bat his eyelashes, and looked ridiculous doing it, not that Charlie was capable of laughing at the moment. “Charlie, don't you
want
to feed me?”

Charlie's chest tightened. On some level, he knew his stomach might have been growling. It was probably the same level telling him that he ought to resist all of Will's flirting for his own peace of mind. “I could be,” he admitted finally, ignoring any questions about what he wanted.

“Good.” Will patted Charlie's chest approvingly and stepped back. Charlie could breathe again. “So let's go get something. Do you want Mexican?”

“Why Mexican?” Charlie glared for all he was worth. That hadn't been a slip of the tongue, just Will being an ass. “You can't help yourself, can you? Somebody really should spank you.”

Will tossed him a thoughtful look. Charlie could have bitten off his own tongue.

“But I wanted to see you order.” Will's fingers made a delicate indication of delight. “You have to order, because you're
the man
.”

Charlie's own words in Will's mouth made his cheeks burn. He flattened his mouth, and Will was suddenly, startlingly quiet, his hands out, his voice low.

“How about sushi, Charlie?” he offered. “I know a good place. You wouldn't have to dress up.
I
don't want to dress up. I'm all worn out.” Will's hopping in place showed that as a clear lie, and Charlie still had a feeling that Will not dressing up would still involve Will looking gorgeous.

“You want to go to dinner?” Charlie hoped that didn't sound as stupid as he thought it did. It would be equally stupid to point out the difference between spending the day together and having dinner together. Will would already know, but when Charlie didn't answer right away, he swallowed.

“Or not.” He seemed disappointed, which for Will meant deflated.