Page 107 of Charlotte's Reckoning
“It’s understandable after the headaches they’ve caused you, but you understand, some of the money they stole was yours, right?”
Not having considered that possibility, her brows drew together in a frown. “There is that I suppose.”
His lips against hers made her forget about money and sent spirals of warmth racing through her body. Too bad it was over far too soon.
He raised his head, his eyes locking with hers, and explained, besides the kiss goodbye, his purpose for coming.
“I’ll be late getting back, if I’m back at all tonight. I talked to your neighbor, George Gleason. He’s got an extra room—”
“And a younger sister whose mother wouldn’t want me around her young daughter.”
“There’s another option. Janelle and Jenny Jackson suggested—”
She shook her head, interrupting again. “Their husbands wouldn’t approve.”
“They were on board—”
Preferring to be at home rather than causing trouble for her friends, she insisted, talking over him, “I’ll be fine on my own, Seth. Really.”
He laid two fingers across her lips. “Will you at least hear me out? They suggested you stay with your ladies at the Jackson cabin.”
A beat of silence passed as she weighed the notion, then she decisively rejected it. “After the judge’s decision, I might be here permanently. I have to learn to fend for myself.”
His grin had vanished, replaced by a scowl. It made him no less handsome.
“I don’t like it, Charlotte. I worry.”
“I know,” she replied, sliding her hands up his chest and linking them behind his neck. “When you get back, we’ll have target practice. Maybe when you see I can defend myself, you’ll feel better about leaving.”
And in the meantime, she would ask Wisteria to return for another lesson to make sure she could back up her claim.
“I’ll never be okay with you being here alone for days on end, but target practice is always beneficial,” he said grudgingly.
“Be careful and come home to me in one piece.” She stood on her toes, straining to meet his lips but coming short.
He met her halfway, saying, before his mouth covered hers, “I refuse to call your shack a home, but you give me something to return to. So that’s a promise I intend to keep.”
The kiss quickly escalated. Despite his claim not to have time, he swept her inside and laid her on the rickety kitchen table. Charlotte didn’t utter a single complaint, rucking up her skirt and helping him with his buttons. His length fell heavy into her hand, and she guided him to her heat. They both sighed with pleasure as he filled her. Their hungry kisses with tongues entwined, drowned out all other sounds except the rhythmic smack of skin against skin. It was much too fast for her liking, but he brought her to pleasure as always.
Afterward, one of the legs splintered with a loud crack while he helped her up.
Charlotte spun. The old table, always uneven, tilted more to the right. “It’s a wonder we didn’t end up on the floor.”
“Ah, the splendor of Chez Charlotte,” he muttered, still not happy with the situation. He framed her face with his hands, giving her one last lingering kiss. Releasing her, he declared, “If this place is still standing come spring, I’ll eat my hat!”
“It has a hidden charm that’s growing on me,” she called after him as he strode to the door, buttoning and adjusting his pants and gun belt.
“Yeah, it’s so well hidden, no one can see it but you,” was his parting comment.
Chapter 26
Take Your Best Shot
After Seth left to hunt down another bad guy, Charlotte saddled Willow and headed to town to buy tools and seeds for her garden. It was a beautiful day. The rain and humidity of the past week had moved on, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Her hard work might be for nothing; she put little trust in the justice system siding with a disreputable woman over a man, even a disgusting toad. Winning the case, a long shot to her way of thinking, would make the cabin and garden unnecessary. Losing meant a long, vegetable-less winter if she didn’t plant now. The more time that passed without a resolution, the more certain she became of defeat. So, she prepared for the worst.
The trip to the general store was surprisingly uneventful. She’d kept to the hardware section, except to venture an aisle over to select a wide-brimmed gardening hat. Even then, she only received a few curious glances. Perhaps they didn’t recognize her new, more rustic appearance. Her pink nose and cheeks from days before had turned to a light golden brown, and she spent hours outside every day keeping it that way, hauling water, tending Willow, and picking the raspberries that grew wild in the woods on her property. She’d even spied a few freckles in her hand mirror that morning. And, because it was easier, she had taken to wearing her hair in a single braid that hung to the middle of her back.
