Pantene-slick, dark hair, her olive skin, and tall, slim figure that only belonged to models. And when Charles leaned into her and placed his hand on her wrist, I couldn’t take any more. I’d about-faced and walked Mary toward the other aisle to get cookies. I didn’t know why I had assumed Charles was single.
Maybe it was because, for the past few weeks, when he wasn’t at work, he was home with the girls.
He didn’t have people calling him other than his secretary and his brothers.
For the most part, his life was chill, laid-back, and routine.
But I should have known better. He was a good-looking man, who exhibited strength and a force like a god. Above that, he had a kind heart. Every sane, single woman in the vicinity was probably calling on him, and I didn’t even know it.
He didn’t owe me an explanation, and I wasn’t going to ask. So, I hadn’t expected him to shut the fridge after we emptied the groceries and corner me. His hand was heavy on the stainless steel as he towered over me, my back against the fridge.
He was so close that I could smell the mint on his lips, and his chest was only inches from my face.
“Vivian is someone I used to have relations with, but that’s done. It wasn’t anything serious, and it’s over.”
I pressed a hand to his chest to stop him from speaking further. “Charles, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
His heartbeat picked up speed underneath my palm, and the heat from his body radiated off of him in waves. “I know.” He held my gaze, and then his stare flickered to my lips. “But this is me. I don’t have the mental energy to let things fester, and not telling you bothered me all the way here.”
He was so damn beautiful; it hurt to look up at him. My next words came out as a breathless whisper. “But why?”
He let out a shaky breath, and his eyebrows furrowed, as though my question confused him. “I … I don’t know why.” He sounded lost, his voice soft, vulnerable even.
When someone cleared their throat, we peered up.
It was Brad, smirking, walking in with Mary. He raised both hands. “You guys getting water? Okaaayyy,” he drawled out.
He turned and was about to walk out of the room when Mary charged toward us, encompassing both of us in an embrace, forcing me and Charles even closer together. “Bubble of love,” she squealed.
My eyes met Charles’s, and he picked up Mary and squeezed her into him. “Two or more people in a hug is a love bubble,” Charles said almost apologetically, answering my unasked question. After he placed her on her feet, he patted her back. “Go get washed up. Dinner will be ready soon.”
We’d picked up a pizza on our way back because Mary had begged for it, so luckily, it was ready on the kitchen island.
I still didn’t know what had transpired at the fridge, but all I knew was that my cheeks were on fire, and I most likely looked like a red chili pepper.
“Let me go get Sarah,” I said, practically running out of the room, up the stairs, and into the bathroom.
I was right. My cheeks were red, as though I had applied too much blush and not stopped. After turning the faucet on, I ran my hands under the cold water and splashed my face. What I really needed was a cold shower.
It seemed as though I needed one frequently around Charles. I might as well prune up and stand under the cold water indefinitely.
That night, it wasn’t my cries that woke me; it was that of a young girl. My nightmare hadn’t taken me under because I wasn’t fully asleep yet. When I registered Mary crying, I jolted from my bed and ran to her room. Usually, Brad would be in there, consoling her, as his room was closest to Mary’s, but he’d gone out, and he wasn’t home yet.
I opened her room, and the night-light shone on her face. “Mary … did you wet your bed?”
Her answer was a muffled, “No.”
When she stretched her arm toward me, I padded over and sat at the edge of her bed. Pushing her hair from her face, I said, “What’s the matter?”
“There was this ghost, and he had teeth and a wand and a crown.” Her words came out in short, broken puffs.
“Aww … come here.” I crawled on the bed, resting my back against the