Page 60 of Second Chances

Her plaintive cry in his ear, he sought to show her how much he needed her, how much he worshipped her, and dropped to his knees, raising her supple legs so she met his mouth. With her knees on his shoulders and her hands clutching his desk, she gasped, giving herself over to him. Never in his wildest imaginings had Henry ever believed a woman like Charlotte would respond so ferociously to his attentions, and he counted his lucky stars as she exploded for him.

Still holding her prone body to his, he carefully slid up to stand. Her agile fingers worked at his belt buckle until his clothes fell to his feet. Henry kicked them aside and, unable to stop himself, swept one arm across his desk, clearing paperweights, pens, an extra pair of glasses, and an empty coffee cup to the other side, not caring what, if anything, fell to the floor. Lifting her to his desk, in a haze of hunger, he watched as she drifted back, resting her head on his cap, brown waves cascading across his desk. Her bare stomach quivered under his hand, and he traced the stretch marks there that made her more compelling, more fascinating, than any of the women he had been with in the past.

Burning for her, he denied himself as he held her trembling body close, until she demanded, “Come to me,” scraping her nails down his chest. Bending, his mouth possessed hers as his body did the same.

Charlotte dug her heels into the small of Henry’s back as wave after wave of pleasure shook her. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the intensity of this moment, and she savored it, in awe as Henry collapsed on top of her.

Leaning up on his elbows, Henry framed her face in his hands, adjusting her glasses, which had gotten knocked askew from their lovemaking. “Have I mentioned how radiant you are? You take my breath away,” he told her before groaning, “that being said, the next time you seduce me, could it please be in a bedroom? Yours or mine, I’m not particular. I might be too old for this,” he chuckled.

“Henry Livingston,” Charlotte gasped, smoothing the hair from his sweaty forehead. “I believe you are the one who started dancing with me.”

“But you brought me food, wearing those shorts. All I could think about was wrapping your legs around—” Henry stopped, suddenly realizing how she’d come into the shop. “The door!”

“What? Henry, what’s wrong?”

“The shop door! I need to lock it before anyone comes in.” When she laughed, Henry asked, “What?”

“The only intruder you’ll get in here is me.” She sat up to kiss him. “I locked it after I came in.”

“Really?” Recovering as quickly as he could from their earth-shattering lovemaking, Henry picked up her clothes from the floor. “Are you still going with the story that you didn’t come here to seduce me?”

“I was just bringing you some food—I never thought I’d get this instead,” she giggled.

Henry brushed strands of her gleaming brown hair from her face. “What happened to the food? I could definitely go for some right now.”

“Pretty sure it’s somewhere in that pile over there.” Charlotte pointed to the side of his desk.

As they redressed, Henry considered Charlotte, gorgeous, standing in front of him, and imagined she would appreciate a chance to have a few minutes to herself. “There’s a nice bathroom, for an auto shop, down the hallway, if you want.”

Smiling gratefully, she stroked his lips with her thumb. All she wanted was him, but the thought of freshening up was appealing. “And then what? Amy is occupied with a cowboy she met at the rodeo, so we have a few hours to ourselves.”

“We can go to my place,” he suggested with a kiss.

Teeth tugged on his bottom lip before she asked, “Are you going to bring your coveralls?”

“These are dirty, but I have a clean pair in my locker,” he joked. A long, bright blue fingernail slowly drew a line down his chest.

“You’re so sexy in them. I’ve never been one for a man in uniform, but you are no ordinary man.” His mouth dropped open as she sauntered away from him. At the doorway, she turned around. “I’m serious about the coveralls.”

Almost Thirty Years Ago

A ball of insecurity was slowly forming in Charlotte’s stomach, like one of the rubber band balls Brady kept on his desk that he insisted on adding to after reading the weekend edition of the Sioux City Journal. She fought back tears, missing her mom and dad desperately on this momentous day. Would she ever recover from the loss of her beloved parents? Growing up, she’d known her parents were much older compared to those of her classmates and friends, but nothing had prepared her to lose them within months of each other. Imagining a life where they wouldn’t be there for her or their precious granddaughter was impossible, and she held on tightly to her daughter’s hand as the two of them walked to Longfellow Elementary. It was Isobel’s first day of kindergarten, and Charlotte’s first day of classes at La Salle University. How would she manage everything? Amy had teased that today would be her first taste of freedom, but the idea carried far too much weight. Now more than ever, she would have welcomed the endless encouragement and unfailing optimism her parents had consistently provided as she turned this corner in her life.

“Mommy, when will I see you again?” Isobel’s teary brown eyes worriedly stared up at her as her bottom lip started quivering.

Charlotte knelt down, gently reminding her, “Sweetheart, Daddy will pick you up from school today, okay? That’s why he went to work extra early this morning. When I’m done at my school, I’ll rush right home.”

“Then we can make ice cream sundaes?” One thumb-sized tear trailed down Isobel’s plump cheek.

“Then we can make ice cream sundaes,” Charlotte assured her, hugging her daughter tightly, thankful she’d come up with an after-school plan both of them could look forward to.

“Excuse me, can I get in on this?”

Isobel squealed, “Auntie Amy,” and launched her tiny form at the woman who had saved so many moments teetering on the brink of collapse. Amy’s glistening black hair streamed over her shoulders as she bent to hug the girl she’d held two hours after her birth.

Straightening, Charlotte flashed a grateful smile at her best friend as she said, “Are you sure you’re not in high school, Issy? You look so much older than these other kids.”

“Aunt Amy, don’t be silly! I’m only five! Ooh, Mommy, there’s Jackson! Can we go inside now? I’m ready for school!” Isobel gleefully announced.