Page 68 of Second Chances

“It’s obvious to you and me, but Melanie believed he was settling, that he’s less here.”

“So when did she finally stop calling you?”

“I blocked her.” His body tensed beside her before he rolled over and sat up.

“Henry? Is something wrong?” With his back to her, she couldn’t see his face, so she got to her knees, pressing her chest against him, sliding her hands down his chest. One of her biggest turn-ons about him was his chest, so strong but not beefy, and the silky hairs sprinkled liberally over it.

“No, sorry. I should probably shower,” Henry kissed her gently on her cheek. “I need to run to the bakery for those muffins Josh likes. Mom is sending some breakfast burritos with Dad, and my nephew Daniel is making some kind of fancy biscuits and gravy.” Henry shrugged with a smile. “Something he serves at his restaurant in Chicago. It’s been a while since he’s been home, so I’m excited to see him.”

“Yes, Trixie was beaming last night, having both of her sons in one place.” She feathered kisses over his shoulders, teasing him, “I’d better get going, then. I know how much you love biscuits and gravy.”

“Not as much as I love…” Her heart pounded, waiting to hear what he said next. Was she ready for a declaration of love? “…seeing you in the morning,” Henry continued. Charlotte let out the breath she’d been holding, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed, “with your hair spread across the sheets.” His upper body twisted to face hers. “I love your laugh when I say something no one else would find funny.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “I love the way your eyes light up when you see me.” His mouth grazed hers. “I love the way you smile when we’re reading in bed and you finish a book.” She lay back on the bed, naked, with his eyes on her. “I love the way you smell, first thing in the morning.” He settled between her thighs. “And I love how soft you are, everywhere, especially here.” She shuddered when he filled his hands with her. “Damn, Charlotte, you are the sexiest woman alive, in every single way.”

She flipped them so she was on top, and she gripped the headboard, her mouth tightly closed as she held in a scream, before crumpling down on top of Henry. Would it be in poor taste for the two of them to simply show up to the wedding right before the ceremony started? Unable to help herself, she mouthed into his chest, “I love you.”

Stroking her shoulders, he told her, “Okay, for real this time, I’m going to shower.” Naked, he ambled across the room to the bathroom. Just as she picked up the newest Tana French novel on his bedside table, Henry’s phone rang. Thinking it could be Josh, she turned it over, ready to get out of bed to take it to him, when she read “Melanie” on the screen.

“What in the world?” Why was Henry’s ex-wife calling him? Had she somehow heard about Josh’s wedding, despite Henry’s assumption she hadn’t? But how was her call coming through if he’d blocked her? Maybe she was tech-savvy and had found a way around it, unbeknownst to Henry. Deciding it wasn’t her business, she placed the phone back on the table facedown, but couldn’t stop thinking about Melanie, who, to her chagrin, Charlotte had more in common with than she would’ve preferred. Both married at eighteen, Melanie to a boy she had only known a couple of months, and Charlotte to the only boy she’d ever dated. Both of them pregnant, or at least Melanie had thought she was. Both of them forced to put aside their dreams in deference to their husbands. Charlotte knew how overwhelming the feeling was of having choices taken from you, no matter how happy you eventually ended up being in your life. Part of her felt for Melanie, having to start her life over in a new place, with no one to confide in, really. Charlotte had done it, yes, but willingly, and as a mature adult, and there had been days after she had moved to Beverley when she’d experienced incredible loneliness. How had Melanie felt, at just eighteen, in a place so foreign to her? Trixie and Nora insinuated Melanie grew more content with her life in South Dakota after the birth of Josh, and it sounded like she’d been a doting stay-at-home mother, that it wasn’t until Diadema had come home to Clover Lake as a grieving widow that there was a noticeable shift downward in Melanie’s demeanor. Based on Charlotte’s own interactions with Diadema, she could imagine the havoc that played in Melanie’s mind, making her suspicious and insecure and unable to get reassurance from anyone. None of it excused her from abandoning her child, though.

In the shower, Henry sang an Eagles song, and she smiled, tempted to join him in the shower when her own phone buzzed. Ruth, asking if she could pick up doughnuts on her way to the park.

Wearing only a towel, a glistening Henry exited the bathroom. “I thought you’d join me in there,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

“I would have, but Ruth texted, reminding me that I said I’d bring breakfast.” She stood up to pull on a pair of shorts and couldn’t resist slicking her hand across his chest, the hair there damp and ultra-soft. “Why do you make me want you so much, Henry?” His reaction to her touch made her chuckle, and she ducked out of his embrace before his towel came off. “None of that until after the wedding festivities.”

“Temptress,” he laughed, grabbing her from behind and kissing her neck. “Have you seen my phone? I thought I took it into the bathroom, but it wasn’t there. I need to call Josh to see if he’s at my house yet.”

“It’s on the nightstand.” While she was putting her earrings in, she said as casually as she could, “You got a call when you were in the shower.” Wincing at her own false suggestion, she studied him in the mirror as he frowned, looking at his phone. No, not a frown, she amended as he raised his head. Anger. She hastily averted her gaze. “Was that Josh?”

He cleared his throat. “No. Wrong number, I guess.” A heavy silence sat in the bedroom; their buoyant mood gone. Charlotte gathered her hair into a high bun, worrying about how to break the tension, when Henry’s arms embraced her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She spun in his arms, wishing he’d tell her about Melanie calling him.

“I guess I’m a little nervous about today. I just want everything to be perfect for Josh, after everything he’s been through the last two years.”

“Are you…are you worried his mom might try to reach out in some way?”

“The thing about Melanie is that she has a way of twisting things…making herself out to be the victim. That’s why I blocked her—I couldn’t take anymore. And now, I definitely don’t want to hear from her at all. Not when…” he drifted off.

Heart pounding again, she asked, “Not when what?”

“Not when I have trouble remembering the last time I was this happy. No one, except my son, has ever made me happier. You light up every one of my days,” he said, touching her lips with his thumbs, “and at night, you dance in my dreams, even when we’re together. You make me feel things I never thought possible.” His mouth descended onto hers, minty from toothpaste. “When do you have to be at the park?” His hands slid under her shirt.

“Not for at least fifteen minutes,” she moaned.

“I can make that happen,” he promised, his towel drifting to the floor.

After wiping tears from her eyes, Cait hugged Josh and Effie, whose wedding had been picture-perfect. Certainly, her cousin and his new bride could convince even the most jaded soul that true love existed. Not her, of course. Love wasn’t in her future. She waved to her aunt Beatrice, who stood next to Charlotte at the end of the row of chairs. Her aunt must have said something funny, because the other woman tipped her head back and laughed, all while never taking her eyes from her uncle Henry. Henry faced Cait, and instead of the grin he’d worn all day, his mouth curved down into a frown. She wondered what was wrong, and then saw he was on his phone. Worried, she started toward him, but as she drew near, his harsh tone halted her. “I told you not to call me anymore. It’s not my problem you were not invited.” Who the hell was he talking to? Who wasn’t invited? His voice heavy, Henry said, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have left him.” Cait’s jaw dropped. Was Josh’s mom on the phone? Her uncle shook his head, swiped at his phone screen, and turned to speak to a woman around Cait’s age. A stranger, Cait had noticed her arrival at the wedding, on the arm of a dark-haired man who’d been impossible to miss. Not only was he dressed like a lumberjack, but his physique suggested he was someone with the capability of actually throwing logs around all day.

“Hey,” Ruth said, rounding the corner of the gazebo. “What’s up?”

“Do you know who Uncle Henry is talking to?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s Lana. I haven’t met her yet officially, but Tess pointed her out to me.” That was Lana? Cait thought scornfully. Figured. No wonder her brother had been a babbling mess for the past two years. Blessed with not only wavy, honey-blonde hair, “Lana” wore a vintage-style sapphire-blue dress that hugged every ridiculous curve. Curves that Cait had never had the fortune of developing. Average described Cait’s body. Well, average pretty much described everything about Cait. The hair of her brother’s dream woman cascaded down her back, in a way she was sure drove him mad, and Cait could see her eyes were a rare shade of dark blue. “Stunning, isn’t she? No wonder your brother tied himself up in knots over her. She’s also a genius, according to Tess.” Of course, she was. Why stop at being beautiful when she could also be brainy? “Do you know she graduated college when she was something like nineteen? And she was done with med school by the time she was⁠—”

“No offense, but I’m not interested in her right now.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ruth sniffed. “You were the one who asked me who she was.”