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“One bag of pretzels,” says the irritatingly chipper attendant. “And one dry-roasted edamame.” He holds them up on either side of his grin.
“Thank you,” Charlotte says, reaching across me to take them.
Her ponytail falls over her shoulder and tickles the end of my nose as she leans forward, the coconut aroma igniting my senses. Every pore of my being wants to pull her to me, to bury my face in her hair.
The only way I can keep my hands to myself is by gripping the arm rests.
“Here.” She offers me the bag of edamame. “Please eat. We need you walking as well as talking.”
The attendant trots off, and I check both ways down the aisle to be sure there isn’t a line of others waiting to interrupt me again. Thankfully the coast seems to be clear.
Unsure whether I’ll have the nerve to restart this if I give up now, I inch around in my seat again to face Charlotte. The sunlight through the window catches the end of her nose, and my lips tingle with desire to kiss her right on that spot. But I hold onto my chair and plow on. “I think it’s important we talk about what happened this morning.”
“It’s fine.” She looks out the window and unscrews the cap of her water bottle.
“It could be a lot finer.” Shit. That didn’t sound great. “What I mean is, we can’t leave this hanging in the air between us.”
“There’s nothing hanging. It’s all fine.” She wraps her mouth around the top of the bottle and takes a sip. My brain wastes no time imagining those puckered lips wrapping themselves around the part of me that just twitched. The simple act of drinking water has never looked sexier.
I can’t let her dismiss this so easily. I know Charlotte well enough to be certain that if I don’t strike while the iron’s hot, while her memory is still fresh, her sensible side will kick in and tell her it’s inappropriate. And that will be that—the one shot I have will be gone forever, since the likelihood of us having the chance to spend time together like this again is almost zero.
I might not be the greatest at picking up on the signals of a woman liking me, but I have every confidence that Charlotte’s heavy breathing, the misty look in her eye, and the fact she leaned into my touch as I stroked her thighs means part of her wants this as much as I do. And that’s the part of her I need to talk to before she shoves it into a box and buries it for good.
She took charge of all the work stuff earlier, so now it’s my turn to take charge of this.
“There are some things I need to say, Charlotte.” She continues to gaze out the window.
I need her eyes on me. It’ll be harder for her to ignore how she felt if she can see a reminder of it in my face. “Could you do me a huge favor? Just look at me and hear me out? Just for a minute.”
She places the water bottle back on the shelf, flops back in her seat, and looks at me. Her beautiful face is tired and anxious. Dark circles sit under her eyes, and her jaw is tight.
“What happen?—”
“Nothing happened,” she snaps. And it sounds like she actually means it.
I rest my elbow on the armrest and lean in, lowering my voice. “Okay, well what nearly happened?—”
“Nothing nearly happened either.” Her eyes dart to the window again, and the bottom falls out of my world. “I just wanted to help fix your back so we could get you to the hub and back on the plane. That was all.”
She’s steely and firm. But she can’t believe what she’s saying. She can’t. She can’t deny the electricity between us or that if housekeeping hadn’t knocked on the door, my back would likely have received a very different kind of therapy.
The few inches between our chairs feels more like a canyon. And I need to build a bridge across it before we land.
“You didn’t feel it?”
She continues to stare, motionless, at the vast expanse of sky. Come on, Charlotte. It’s okay to admit it, for fuck’s sake.
“I think you felt it,” I whisper. “I sure as hell did.” I pause to take a breath. “And it was magic.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever said a truer word in my life. I thought I’d never experience the wonder of Charlotte feeling the same for me as I do for her. But in that moment this morning, I was certain she did. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her run away from it and pretend it wasn’t real or didn’t happen.
She sits bolt upright and turns to face me. The deep brown eyes that looked at me so lustily just a few hours ago are now equal parts determined and sad. “I know about the family agreement.”
“The family agreement?” What the hell is she talking about?
“The one Max made you, Connor, Walker, and Tom make.”
“You mean the pact?” I ask. “What’s Max getting us together when we were teenagers and making us all pledge to start companies and make a fortune, so we could give our parents an amazing life, got to do with you and me?”
