Page 49 of What are the Chances

“Oh,” Richard says, releasing Danny’s hand. He crosses his arms over his chest as he looks down at us. “Danny and I just finished packing the car, so we came out here to say goodbye to ye both.”

“What?” Charlotte stands up, brushing the dirt off the back of her pants, then opens her arms and brings Danny in for a hug.

I stand up too, waiting for her to pull away. Charlotte still has her arms wrapped around Danny when I turn to Richard.

“You know you guys are paid up until tomorrow, right? Was something wrong? Did you not enjoy your stay here?”

“No, laddie, it’s not that,” Richard frowns and shakes his head. “We had a wonderful time. But this gentleman here,” he nods toward Danny who is still wrapped up in Charlotte’s embrace, “wants to get a head start heading home. We miss our dog, Bonnie.”

Charlotte pulls away from Danny and steps back to stand beside me. Her warm hand wraps around my bicep as she grabs my hand with her other and weaves her fingers through mine.

“Alright. Well, I’ll speak to Sam and we can refund you the last night,” I offer.

“No,” Danny waves me off. “Don’t worry about the money. We aren’t. Every cent we paid was worth it.”

“It’s been a pleasure having you both stay here,” Charlotte says with a smile. “We’re sad to see you go.”

“We are,” I agree, pulling Charlotte toward me.

“Ah,” Danny waves us off again. “You can’t be that sad. We’ve put you out long enough. With the other couple leaving, as well as us, you get the entire house to yourselves.”

Laughing, I wrap my arm around Charlotte and pull her into me. kiss her on the top of her head, then turn to Danny and Richard.

“I won’t deny you’re right on that one.”

Pulling away, Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.” With an outstretched arm, she points toward the house. “Come on, we’ll walk you to your car.”

***

After we say our final goodbyes to Danny and Richard, I take a quick shower, leaving Charlotte in the kitchen, starting a pot of tea. After stepping out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around my waist, I don’t find Char in our room like I had expected. Stepping into the hallway, I bypass the entry to the stairs and head toward my old room and my parents’ room. The door to my room is half open, my old Boondock Saints poster pinned to the wall visible from where I am.

“Char?” I push open the door the rest of the way and find her standing in the middle of the room, looking out the window. “What are you doing in here?” I ask.

Turning around, she grins and raises her shoulders, relaxing them with a heavy breath.

“I figured this is where I was going to sleep now.”

I slowly walk toward her, my bare feet pressing against the cold hardwood floor.

“You mean ‘we’, right?”

Suddenly, as if she hadn’t noticed, her eyes widen, focusing on my bare chest.

“Yes, I meant ‘we’,” she whispers. I watch as she presses her lips together, then swallows, her neck dipping from what seems like nerves. I find it endearing she’s still nervous around me. I can tell she’s comfortable, but I still somehow manage to stir something inside her. There’s a fire behind her eyes when she looks at me. Her touch is gentle, yet commanding. Much the same way I feel about her. I haven’t felt this way about a woman in… I don’t even know how long.

Finally, her eyes travel up to mine when she lifts her hand and rakes her fingers through my still wet hair. She pushes my hair back, away from my forehead, without a word. She doesn’t seem as nervous as when I first stepped into the room, now that my body is in front of hers.

I slide my hand along her hip and rest it against the small of her back, pulling her into me, her still clothed body warm against my cool skin. Lifting my hand, I tuck her loose strands behind her ear.

“Ye keep me warm, álainn.”

“Yeah?” Standing on her toes, she leans into me, bringing her mouth to the spot on my neck just below my ear, planting a soft, lingering kiss there before whispering in my ear, “Well, you keep melting me, Mase.”

I close my eyes and breath through my nose when I feel her hands move along my sides, dragging her fingertips across my waist, then down to the muscles of my hips. I’m immediately hard for her, thankful to be in a towel, not feeling the restrictive fabric of jeans or pants.

Gripping the top of my towel, she slowly unravels it, allowing it to drop to the floor. The cold air in my old bedroom hits my cold, freshly washed skin, and my heart thunders in my chest. Leaning back, I glance up and down Charlotte’s still fully clothed body, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, this doesn’t seem too fair, álainn. Don’t you agree?”

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