the other woman a quick smile, before refocusing on her assigned task. “I’m not really shy. But Sam was right to a certain extent…I wasn’t ready to be around people.”
Lia pursed her lips as she considered Charity’s words and then nodded.
“Fair enough. And do you think you’re ready now?”
“Maybe.” For some reason, despite there being absolutely no pressure or judgment from the other woman, or perhaps because of it, she felt compelled to explain herself more. “My husband died a couple of weeks before I moved here three years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” The words were out before she could stop them. But the ones that followed were voluntarily offered. “He wasn’t a good man. And I didn’t want to watch my family mourn him.”
It was getting easier to admit that. Lia nodded again.
“I’m sorry that was intense, wasn’t it?” Charity said with a grimace, and the other woman squeezed her forearm reassuringly.
“I get it. I was engaged to a complete a-hole a few years ago. Possibly a different kind of jerk to your husband, but he wasn’t a good man either.”
The lack of probing questions and the unflinching acceptance of Charity’s claim that her husband had been a bad man was humbling to say the least, and strengthened her resolve to tell her family of everything she had endured at Blaine’s hands. If a complete stranger could be so accepting of her truth, then she owed the same opportunity to the people who loved her.
She cleared her throat and searched for a way to change the subject. “So how long have you and Sam been engaged?”
“A couple of years. He’s been pushing to get married, but I’m happy for now. We love each other, there’s no rush. And what’s going on between you and Miles?”
Charity felt her face going red and nearly choked on the slice of cucumber she had popped into her mouth a second before.
“N-nothing,” she managed, once she had regulated her breathing. “He’s my boss.”
“He clearly wants to be more. You should have seen the way he stared at you when you were talking with the kids, right before the accident.”
Charity wanted to probe, she was keen to know exactly how Miles had been staring at her, but her natural reticence stayed her tongue, and Lia grinned knowingly.
“I mean, I thought the way Sam looks at me is intense, but wow. I’m surprised you don’t have scorch marks up and down your body because it was haaaaawt.”
“We’ve grown closer these last few weeks.” Charity was horrified to find herself divulging so much private information, but Lia was so easy to talk to. Or maybe it was because it had been way too long since Charity had had anything resembling a female friend to confide in.
“Good for you.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little…inappropriate? I’m his housekeeper.”
“Please, most wives and live-in girlfriends are unpaid housekeepers. Kudos to you for making a living out of it. Does the situation feel inappropriate?”
“I feel like it should.”
“But does it?”
“Not really. I’ve worked for him for three years and never thought of him in that way…until one day I did.”
“And do you feel taken advantage of?”
“Far from it.”
“Then I think you should give yourself permission to enjoy it. To enjoy him.”
Charity wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that and appearing to understand her discomfort, Lia changed the subject. “So, you were pretty phenomenal back there. With the boy. You handled it almost…professionally?”
Not an ideal shift in topics. Charity could tell from the upward lilt in her voice that Lia, like so many other people present at the community center today, was going to be even more curious about Charity and her background now. In fact, she was surprised it had taken the woman this long to bring it up.
“It was basic first aid,” she dismissed. Hoping that would be the end of it.
“Are you talking about that business with Sinclair Ross?” Sam’s voice intruded, as the two men entered the kitchen through the backdoor with Trevor, Sam’s ever-present shadow, trailing behind them. Sam was carrying a tray of cooked meat, and Miles was clutching a couple of beer bottles.
“Yes, I was just telling Charity how wonderfully she dealt with the situation.”
“I was just trying to keep him calm,” Charity deflected. “He was terrified and in pain…and I dare say, a little embarrassed. He’s an attention hog, but that wasn’t exactly the kind of attention he was looking for.”
Sam laughed at her statement. “Oh, it got him the attention he wanted