Page 59 of Second Chances

After thinking of Charlotte all day, here she was at his desk, as if he’d summoned her, wearing a pair of shorts that grazed thighs so delectable that he clenched his hands. When he first heard her calling his name, he’d been in the restroom washing his hands of the grime of the day. Not taking the time to bother with a paper towel, he hurriedly wiped them on the front of his coveralls. Completely unlike him, but what was a man to do when the enchanting voice of the woman who had been occupying his thoughts…his dreams…his desires…called out? Her round hip rested against his desk, reminding him of when he’d lifted her onto the table in his coffee shed last night and, under her skirt, the softness of her thighs awaited him. The hitch of her breath in his ear as his fingers sampled her damp silkiness until she had quivered around him haunted him all morning. No woman had ever responded to him the way she had, and he yearned for the delicious weight of her in his hands again. Overcome with wanting, he braced himself against his office doorway, where the sounds of the Eagles and the smell of his S’mores coffee swirled around to create an erotic experience, made more so once he glimpsed her bare toes painted an electric-blue. “I’m starving.” Just not for food.

“It’s just some food from the snack bar at the rodeo.” Heaven help her with the way his eyes singed her. Sexual energy hung heavy between them, rooting her in place in fear of doing something audacious. Like ripping his clothes off in this office. The trilling phone behind her rang, breaking the spell, and Henry took two steps closer to grab the receiver.

Not now, he thought as he answered, “Hello?” with nothing but faint breathing on the other end. Sure that it was his ex-wife, he simply hung up instead of demanding she speak, not wanting to make an issue while Charlotte was here.

“Wrong number?” she asked, troubled by the annoyed expression Henry wore.

“Yeah, I guess. We get them every once in a while.” Brushing any thought of Melanie away, he smiled at the sensual woman before him. “You brought me lunch.”

“I just…I was wishing you were at the rodeo with us, and then texting you made me want to see you.”

Certain his voice would crack with desire if he spoke, he first drank from a bottle of water in his back pocket. “I’ve been thinking of you all day.” For the first time, work had been impossible for him to concentrate on. “I was just going to wash up and head out there.”

Pink stained her cheeks when she said, “You were?”

He nodded. “We were busy earlier, but it died down about an hour ago, so I sent everyone home. Or to the rodeo, probably. Thank you for the lunch. I didn’t have time to eat anything earlier.” That, and the anticipation of seeing her later had filled him, along with worry that he might not, since she might be too preoccupied with her friend in town.

“Ellen Lefferts said to tell you ‘hi’. It seems Ruth saw us at the dance.” Would he worry now that their relationship was exposed to the town? Or even worse, upset with her for doing so?

“So what you’re saying is the entire town knows about us?” He didn’t care—let them all know. He wanted nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops.

“Well, I’m sure they don’t know we spent the night together, if you’re worried-”

“I’m not,” Henry assured her, leaning forward to cup her face. “Charlotte, I need you to know that you and me? I’m all in, whatever this is between us. At whatever pace you want. For everyone to know.”

“I want that, too,” she said quietly. “For so long, I didn’t know what I wanted. When my marriage ended, the only thing on my mind was figuring out who I was…who I had become as an adult, without thinking of myself as a wife and mother. The last thing I imagined was starting a relationship. But then I saw you. And you have interested me, intrigued me, called to me, incessantly. Even when months passed without seeing you, I felt the same way I did that first day.” Her hand scraped against his rough cheek. “Butterflies in my stomach.”

The intensity in her eyes conveyed her longing, and as her fragrance, a mix of vanilla and sunshine, invaded his nose, he entwined his fingers with hers. His other hand skimmed the womanly curve of her hip, dipping into her waist. When she shivered, he stepped closer, so her chest crushed against his ribs. Charlotte’s long, dark lashes fluttered, and she tipped her head back, moaning, “Henry…”

As “Best of My Love” played, Charlotte swayed in Henry’s arms, experiencing a mix of emotions ranging from desire to safety to something she wasn’t quite ready to put a name to. His body heat scorched her hand as she caressed Henry’s chest, the fabric of his shirt thin enough for her to feel his skin underneath. “Henry,” she stroked his cheek, relishing the blond scruff on his face.

Henry touched his forehead to hers, hating that he could be soiling her with his work garment, yet unwilling to release her. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he confessed, looking over at their hands, still locked together by their tightly threaded fingers. How small her hand looked in his…how perfect and unspoiled. He’d done his best to wash the oil and other residue from his hands, but had he known she’d be here, he’d have spent an hour ensuring he was pristine for her, even though no matter how hard he tried, sometimes he couldn’t remove the evidence of his workday.

“Where else would I be?” Looking into his eyes was dangerous for her heart. Standing here with him, dancing in this garage, wanting him in his office, all of it was reckless. However, nothing mattered but Henry. She’d meant it when she agreed that she, too, was all in, even if she was unsure of what the future held. “I’ve thought of nothing but last night. I’ve never…no one has ever…” Breathing deeply, she tried to calm her pounding heart. “I’ve only ever been with my ex-husband…I need you to understand that. I never dated anyone but him, never—” Henry’s mouth on hers silenced her.

“I understand,” he said, “probably more that anyone else. My dating life has been…unconventional and mostly non-existent.” Was it irony or fate that made their pasts so similar? “I was ashamed. I didn’t want to let anyone in, didn’t want anyone to know the mistakes I made after Melanie left.” Henry debated how to confess to Charlotte about one of his missteps.

She leaned back slightly to look up at him, anguish evident on his face. “Whatever you did, I understand. I can’t imagine being in your position.” Charlotte pressed closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

“I didn’t want Josh to be broken.” Henry, now ready to confide something he’d never told anyone, said, “I wrote a note to him, but made it look like it was from his mom. It was all I could think of to soften the blow. He was only twelve. Josh knows now, of course; he’d guessed it at some point.”

“Oh, Henry.” She stilled them and looked up, her eyes locking with his, her heart breaking for father and son. Every sacrifice he had made along the way, attempting to give Josh the best life possible, was here, in this auto shop. “Not many people would go to the lengths you did to ensure your son’s life remained as positive and unaffected as possible.” Yearning to make him smile again, to lighten the mood, her finger dipped into the cleft in his chin. “I have a confession to make now.”

Moving together to “Peaceful, Easy Feeling,” Henry gathered her closer. “Do you?”

“I do.” Her hand slid to the back of his neck, where his silvery blond hair curled just slightly, right below the baseball cap she had gotten used to seeing him in. “You see, Henry Livingston, your compassion, your generosity, your tender heart, turn me on, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet.” Rising on her tiptoes, she murmured, “And the more I learn about you, the more I want you, and that’s saying something, because I have thought of you every night, when I’m waiting to go to sleep. Fantasized about how you’d feel on top of me, how your hips would fit between my thighs.”

Henry groaned as her mouth captured his, and he tasted her with his tongue, savoring her sweet and salty flavor. “That’s good to know, Charlotte Berg, because you are all I have thought about since that first day. Now that I know how you feel, under me, around me, so soft, so silky-” and with his words, her mouth opened fully for him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

Charlotte tugged him closer, allowing no air to flow between their bodies, but he withdrew slightly. “We can’t, not here. It’s too dirty, and I’m filthy.”

Clutching the coveralls hanging around his waist, she said, “Well, you’d better take these off, then.” Moaning in response, he gently touched the tiny buttons on her shirt before his mouth fell, raining tender kisses at her neckline, where a sunburn was developing. She reached down, grabbed the hem of her top and wrenched it off, dropping it behind her. His hands easily plunged into the loose waist of her shorts, filling his palms with the curves of her bottom. Dizzy with need, Henry traced the scalloped edge of Charlotte’s blue bra with his tongue, in awe that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. One taste, thought Henry, he just needed one taste of her, and then he would put an end to things here and take her to his house. Dipping his head to the lush mounds of her breasts, Henry groaned as her hands tugged on his hair, knocking his hat off.

“Henry,” Charlotte cried, unable to put into words how she desired him…how she couldn’t wait to have him. Her shorts pooled around her ankles.

Henry brought his hands to her face. “You are so beautiful. Too beautiful for this. We shouldn’t…this isn’t…you deserve more than this auto shop.”

As quickly as she had divested herself of her shirt, his was gone with one tug from her. Flinging her arms around his waist, she used her mouth on his chest, biting and licking while she crushed herself into him. Dazed, Charlotte whimpered, “I need you, Henry.”