Page 116 of Charlie

"Not crazy!" she gushes, bouncing up and down in her seat, "It's perfect! That way, he knows he's special to you and won’t feel like he’s the third wheel—well, the fourth wheel in your case."

I scrub my hands over my face, trying to stave off the sleepiness that comes from a full stomach and sleepless night. "I’ll have to try to find a ring on Friday. Do you know where I can get something he’d like for cheap? I don’t have a ton of money to spend."

"I have off tomorrow – why don’t you let me find it for you?"

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Tears well in my eyes, exhaustion heightening my emotions.

"Of course! Just tell me what you want. I can send pictures, so you're picking it, not me."

I give it some thought, trying to imagine what he’d like. "It has to be old and have some cool history behind it, something that would mean a lot to him."

"Old. Check." She makes a checkmark on an imaginary list. "What else?"

"Something he can wear when he’s out in the field – I don’t want him to worry that it’ll get ruined."

"Got it," she says, grinning. "This is the most excitement I’ve had in years." She slaps her knees and stands up. "Okay, I hate to run, but I have to head to work soon. Make sure you get some sleep."

"I'll try," I promise.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you some beef stew for dinner. You just need to heat it on the stove." She hands me one last to-go box.

"How will I ever thank you, Isla?" I ask, my chin wobbling. "You have no idea how much your friendship means to me."

"As long as you’re there for me when I finally find my man, we’ll call it even," she says, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Only one man?" I tease, sniffling.

"I can barely handle one – I don’t know how I would ever manage more," she says, making a face at the thought of it. She stands up and throws her food container in the trash. "Gotta run. I hope tomorrow goes exactly how you’ve always hoped... and that’s all I’m gonna say because he’s my brother, and it’s gross."

"Thank you. Have a good night at work." Nerves set in as I close the door after her. I think about Jack, his muscled arms, his sexy tattoos. Heat blooms through my body, forcing me to shut down that line of thinking. Instead, I pull the curtains in my bedroom closed, falling asleep quickly only to dream about sweaty bodies and tangled limbs.

I wake several hours later to a text message from Jack:

Make sure you rest up tonight, mo chridhe. You'll need your energy for tomorrow. Sweet dreams.

Butterflies fill my stomach. I wonder what he has planned. Fucking me in every room in the castle like he told me before? God, I hope so.

63

Iwake to Jack sliding into bed with me, wrapping the covers around us like a cocoon to keep in the heat.

"Fuck, you're warm," he murmurs, his lips moving against my neck. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against his body, the heady scents of whisky and leather taking over my senses.

"Why do you smell so good?" I ask sleepily, burrowing my face into his shoulder and breathing deeply.

"Probably the beard oil Lorna makes for me."

"Don’t ever change it," I whisper, pressing my lips to his skin. I blink, my eyelids heavy, and begin to drowse off when the reality of today slams into me like a freight train. Adrenaline floods my veins, making my heart race. His callouses leave a delicious trail of fire as he flattens his palm over my stomach, fingers spanning from my rib cage to the crease of my thigh. I suck in a breath when his thumb grazes the underside of my breast, my nipples greedy for his touch.

"Your heart's beating like a hummingbird," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my pulse, sucking the delicate skin into his mouth. Groaning, I drop my head to the side to give him better access. He flexes his hips against my backside, and I push back, grinding against him.

"Charlotte," he groans, his voice rough, "If we don’t get out of bed now, I'll keep you here for the next twenty-four hours. Longer if you’ll let me."

"And how is that a bad thing?" I ask, turning in his arms. Golden eyes search mine, drinking me in, a smile pulling at his lips. There’s a roughness about him – a raw sensuality – that has me curling my toes, desire engulfing me like an uncontrollable wildfire.

"It's not," he chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, then running the back of his fingers over my cheek in a soft caress. "Except for the fact that I'll have some calls to make to cancel our plans."

"What kind of plans?" I ask, doubtful that anything could rank higher than staying in bed with him for the entire day.

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