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“Not tonight,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’ve got to help out down here and I’m beat.” She offered Caleb a smile, but it was tight and awkward because she knew they were being watched. She felt Alessio’s gaze on her, hot and possessive, and every cell inside her body began to quiver and reverberate. Suddenly, the kiss, the missive to ‘think about it’ took on a whole new level of complexity.
She stood, grabbing both of their now empty wine glasses on auto pilot. “I’ll see you later,” she said, barely looking at Caleb, before turning her back and moving towards the bar—but the other end from Alessio. As far from him as she could get, in fact. A few locals engaged her in conversation, and she responded automatically, placing the wine glasses in the washer. But there was no way to exit the bar without passing him.
There was nothing for it.
She breezed past him without looking even once in his direction.
She couldn’t.
She wouldn’t. She needed to take a moment to unravel how she was feeling, and the mess she’d unwittingly walked right into.
“No, it’s definitely bedtime,”she said with a laugh, as Dash loaded up the second Jurassic Park movie and pressed his palms together in a gesture of hopeful prayer.
“But…Jeff Goldblum. You know he’s your favourite.”
Charlotte nodded. “He is, and with good reason, but it’s late and my little headmaster award recipient needs a good night’s sleep.”
“Half an hour?”
“No,” she said, softening the demurral with a kiss on Dash’s forehead. “There has been pasta, a movie, ice cream and if you shower quickly, we’ll read a book together. Deal?”
He considered that. “But I get to choose?”
“Yes, of course.”
“O-Kay,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, then grinned, his green eyes—so like his mother’s—sparkling as they met hers. “I suppose I can’t complain.”
“Damn straight.”
“Charlie!” He pressed a hand to his mouth, and she lifted her shoulders.
“That’s a grown-up word, I know, but I am a grown up, so it’s alright. Now, go shower, Mister.”
She waited until the water was running then poured herself a second glass of wine, the pleasant warmth of the earlier glass having evaporated completely the moment she realised the object of her dreams was in fact the much-hated half-brother of one of her dearest friends.
The evening rituals with Dash were some of the best times of Charlotte’s day, but they were also some of the worst, because it was impossible not to be cognisant, as his little body snuggled into hers and grew heavier and heavier as he fell asleep, how much Maggie and Michael were missing.
He’d chosen one of his most beloved books, one that Charlotte knew by heart, so she read it softly, with her eyes on his face rather than the page, and even when he’d drifted off, she kept reciting the words, turning the pages, relishing the moment until finally, it was all done. She kissed his forehead, stood, and moved to the door of his room. With one last glance at the sleeping boy, she turned off the lights, except for his little bedside lamp, and closed the door with a soft click, smiling to herself as she moved back to the kitchen.
Charlotte wasn’t a night owl, but there was a restlessness in her bones, and she couldn’t shake it. She felt…more alive than she knew possible, utterly full of energy and adrenaline, like she needed to go for a long run. She couldn’t settle to anything—not to a book, nor a TV show, not even to the prospect of trying a new recipe. She felt jumpy, and it didn’t take long to understand why.
Alessio.
How come he hadn’t told her the truth? It would have been the easiest thing in the world to mention his connection to Caleb and Winnie. She’d spoken of her bosses on multiple occasions, and he’d referred to his family, and the difficulties he had with them? So why not be honest?
Had he intentionally meant to deceive her? Had he enjoyed knowing she was in the dark? And why did that bother her so much?
* * *
“Good morning,”his voice was low and deep and unraveled right in her gut, low down, haunting her, teasing her, spreading inside her body like wildfire, so she felt warm from the inside out.
His arrival, though unplanned, wasn’t unexpected.
With a mask of polite disinterest on her face, Charlotte looked towards the door of the kitchen.
“Good morning.” Her tone was cool, definitely not inviting further conversation, but he stepped deeper into the kitchen anyway.
“Did you think about it?”
