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Drake stared at me with a deer-in-the-headlights kind of stare. He was probably thinking he’d dodged a bullet. I was still wearing overalls and my hair was in a messy bun. If that didn’t do it, I’m sure the sexy goggles definitely had him thanking his lucky stars he’d tossed me out with the trash a long time ago.
Izzy was saying something, but I had no idea what. Her mouth was moving but all I heard were The Killers screaming in my head and all the swear words I wanted to shout at my sister for not giving me a heads-up that Drake was extremely early, and for telling him he could stay here in the first place.
I clumsily took out my earbuds, and they fell to the floor. I didn’t care. I made no attempt to retrieve them. Instead, I clung to the ladder for dear life.
“Our guests arrived early,” Izzy said, with an evil glint in her eyes.
One would think with all the swear words going through my head, I’d be able to string a few coherent words together. But none came to mind while Drake stood there staring at me. I wanted so badly to hate him, but seeing him made me think of things I didn’t want to, like how it felt to wake up in his arms to his sweet and gentle kisses. Or how he could say my name and make it sound like he was reliving a dream.
“Sorry to intrude, but Mr. Foster needed to adjust his arrival time to compensate for a change in meeting times scheduled later this afternoon and into the evening,” the man I assumed to be Drake’s assistant said. Why was he calling him Mr. Foster? Drake had never been so formal.
I still said nothing. Drake and I were locked in a serious staring contest. Which reminded me, I could see him better if I took off the ridiculous goggles. I whipped them off and let them drop to the floor too.
Drake rewarded me with his dampened smile.
I couldn’t return it because all I saw was Jameson giving me that same smile. It was a stark reminder that the piper had come to call, and I had no idea how to answer.
When I didn’t smile back, Drake ran a hand through his hair. “Hi, Charlotte.” There he went saying my name like it meant something to him. He was such a liar.
Thankfully, I knew better now and had no plans to make any more poor choices when it came to men. Now clothing, sure, I was all about rocking the overalls and baggy flannel shirts that hid my slender figure.
“Hi,” I whispered back.
“I was just telling Drake and Martez how we bought the old place.” Izzy smiled, perusing Martez like he was a bag full of candy on Halloween. If I had to guess, he was about ten years younger than her and had some Cuban heritage, based on his name and handsome features. “Drake here”—she patted his back a little too hard, making him wince—“was awfully surprised,” she sang.
Drake narrowed his eyes at Izzy, not appreciating being touched, I was sure. He didn’t like people touching him. Well, at least not like that. I had to quit thinking about how much I had touched him. The butterflies in my stomach were on the verge of joining a merengue line.
I held my stomach. There would be no dance parties for Drake ever again. The man thought I was a mistake and would soon hate me for keeping Jameson a secret. Or worse, he would thank me for leaving him out of the picture and tell me “Thanks but no thanks” on the whole dad thing.
“Had I known,” Drake began to say, “I—”
“ . . . wouldn’t have come,” I finished for him.
“No.” He clenched his fists, telling me he was lying.
“Right.” I climbed down the ladder to retrieve the items I had dropped. “I’m sure you want to get settled. Izzy can show you to your rooms. I need to get back to work.” And cry. Lots of crying was in my future plans.
Drake turned to Izzy and Martez. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
I whipped my head in Izzy’s direction and begged her with my eyes not to leave me alone with Drake.
She shook her devious head no. “You got this,” she mouthed.
I so did not have this.
“Right this way, Martez.” Izzy acted like she was a The Price Is Right beauty queen and waved her hand toward the door as if there were a new car on the other side.
As soon as they left, Drake stepped closer to me.
I stayed on the first rung of the ladder and clung to it.
Drake shoved his hands into the front pockets of his designer jeans. “It’s been a long time.”
