“What about a bribe as a peace offering?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
Her eyes light up. “Depends. What did you bring?”
I extend the coffee cup in her direction. “A red velvet latte with extra whipped cream from Lasso & Latte.”
She eyes it suspiciously. “Sugar-free?”
I shake my head. “Even I’m not that mean.”
It’s no secret she can’t stand sugar-free lattes or that her friends push them on her because of her diabetes. They mean well, but I’m of the mind that everything is okay in moderation, and if she likes her coffee sweet, she should have it. I’m also counting on it to win me a few brownie points today.
“That was really thoughtful, thanks,” she says brightly, eagerly taking the cup.
Her eyelids flutter shut as she takes a long sip, a quiet groan of approval slipping out that goes straight to my dick.
Fucking hell.
Figures Charlie would have a similar reaction to her favorite drink as she does when she’s having an orgasm. Those throaty sounds have plagued me for months, stirring up memories of her spine bowing off the bed, nails raking down my shoulders while she shattered around my cock.
I discreetly adjust myself, dropping my hand to my side seconds before she opens her eyes.
I shoot her a smirk. “That good, huh?”
“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no real bite to her words. “The girls brought me the sugar-free version yesterday, but it doesn’t hit the same as this.”
“I figured you would adjust your insulin or correct if you ran high,” I say.
She rocks back on her heels. “Oh, you an expert on diabetes now?”
I shrug, keeping my expression neutral. “I’ve been around you enough to pick up a thing or two.”
Wrong.
I started researching diabetes the night after I saw Charlie dancing on that bar top. Since then, I’ve learned everything fromrecognizing symptoms to performing emergency interventions, determined never to be caught unprepared.
That’s how I know that diabetes can complicate a pregnancy, making it higher risk and requiring additional monitoring. She deserves someone who will show up for her through every appointment, every challenge, and every milestone, and I intend to do just that.
“So what’s the occasion?” she asks, eyeing the bouquet in my other hand. “This level of effort always comes with a catch.”
I shift closer, dropping my voice. “Have you given any more thought to my proposal?”
“The answer is still no,” she states flatly, not even bothering to look up.
“Charlie, I get your hesitation, but I’d really like to—”
I stop mid-sentence as my gaze lands on the stack of bills behind the register, nearly all of them stamped with red “OVERDUE” and “FINAL NOTICE” warnings.
My stomach drops when it hits me that Charlie must be struggling financially—unless those bills are her grandma’s. But even then, with her in a retirement home, Charlie is most likely paying them.
I feel like an even bigger asshole than before. I spent years pushing her away when she needed support the most. She’s far too proud to ask for help, and I doubt her friends have the slightest clue what’s going on, or they would have intervened already.
This doesn’t change a damn thing. I still want her just as badly as I did five minutes ago. Hell, maybe even more now. My drive to provide for her and the baby has only grown stronger. If I have anything to say about it, she’ll never have to struggle under the weight of those overdue bills again.
“Hello? Earth to Heath.” Charlie snaps her fingers in front of my face, pulling me out of my daze. “You totally short-circuited there. Am I really that scary?” she teases.
I’m about to answer when I notice Ethel drifting closer in my peripheral vision. This is between Charlie and me, and now that I know the stakes are higher than I thought, I’d rather not have an audience.
I take the coffee from Charlie’s hand and set it on the counter along with the flowers.
