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Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte
Making love to Wes was like dying and going to heaven, or what I expected that to feel like. His hands and mouth knew just what to do to make my body crave more, crave all of him.
Even with what I had gone through, I wasn’t modest or reserved when it came to sex. It was a beautiful form of expression, and although I’d had one bad experience, I couldn’t remember it and didn’t let my mind dwell on it.
Instead, I loved Wes with every ounce of my being. The words were so close to slipping off my tongue as we held one another. The moments after were blissful, and a fullness slipped over me that I had only once before experienced. The day my daughter was put into my arms.
I was ready to forget my past, ready to move forward, and I wanted to do it with Wes. I knew that he would be an incredible husband and father, and suddenly, as I lay there with him drawing lazy circles on my hip, I could picture those four children that he wanted.
He lifted his wrist and looked at his watch, sighing. “As much as I hate to go, I should. I have to be at work by four, and I have some papers at home that I need to bring with me.”
“It’s probably a good idea. I have to work tomorrow anyway, and I’m not sure I’m ready to explain to Marisol why Doctor Young is sleeping in my bed.”
He chuckled and then rolled me over to kiss me again. “If you didn’t already know, that was pretty fantastic.”
“I surmised that.” I grinned saucily at him before he kissed me one last time and then climbed off the bed. I laid there and watched him, hating the thought of him leaving me, but knowing that it was the best. Someday he would stay all night, and maybe that would be when we shared the same bed all the time. I could only hope.
After he got dressed, I slipped out of bed and pulled my robe around my shoulders. He came to me, taking my face, “You have no idea how desirable you look with that sleepy, sex satisfied smile on your face.”
I didn’t respond, and he kissed me one more time slowly, taking my hand as I walked him to the door. Maybe my luck was finally changing, and I would get that happily ever after that I had always dreamed of.
At the door, he paused and turned back to me, pulling me to him. “I know this might be an odd time to ask this, but it’s been on my mind for a while this evening.”
“What’s that?”
“You told me when Marisol was injured that her father was out of the picture. Where is he?”
Every muscle in my body stiffened, and I tried to pull back, “I told you he’s not in the picture, Wes. That’s all I can tell you.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you want to talk about him?”
I stepped out of his arms. “Because there is nothing to say about him, Wes.”
“Who is he? Where is he? Is he alive, dead? Do you still love him?”
I spun toward him, “No, I don’t love him, and I never did. To be honest, I have no clue where he is, and I hope to hell that I never see him again.”
He studied me, and I knew he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. “Okay.” His voice was soft, husky, and he placed a final kiss on my cheek and let himself out.
I sank to the sofa and put my face into my hands. How had this wonderful evening ended on this sour note? I knew that I should probably explain to him what happened, but I wasn’t ready to do that. He did have a right to know about it, and where Marisol came from, especially if he was going to be a serious part of our life.
I was going to have to come up with the courage to tell him. Maybe while we were out at the party for the weekend, I could find time to explain it to him. He would understand, I knew he would. I just needed to get the courage to say it out loud.
And that’s where my luck went to hell.
* * *
It was Wednesday before the party and almost a week since I had last seen Wes. He’d had a lot of crazy hours to work, and I did too. We had texted every day and even spoke on the phone a few times. I loved the simplicity of it. The small things that I learned about him every time that I spoke with him. In truth, I loved him.
Marisol and I were meeting Wes for lunch. I had to pick up some paperwork for my job, and Wes was going to take his lunch break and join us in the cafeteria. I had a feeling that the two of us were going to get used to meeting for meals there since I would be starting at the hospital come Monday.
We were walking down a corridor when we came around a corner and bumped into a man. “Excuse us,” I said politely to him as I pulled Marisol to the side to get around him.
“Hey, wait. You’re Charlotte Bennett, aren’t you?”
I turned to him, letting my gaze drift over his face for a moment. He was vaguely familiar, and I assumed it was when Marisol had been in the hospital. Maybe he knew Jersey or Wes, and they had mentioned my name.
