Page 43 of Charlie

"I'll take the ride. Put the tailgate down and I'll sit on it," I say, throwing pride to the wind. He raises his eyebrow at me. "I'm muddy, Lach. I'm not getting in your truck like this."

"Fine," he says, annoyed. He places the bike in the truck bed and then lowers the tailgate, helping me up.

Thirty seconds later, we're pulling into the barn. I hop down, and a ball of black and white fur promptly knocks me on my ass. Mud soaks through my leggings in under a second. I don't even try to get up. I'm totally defeated, and it's not even nine a.m. Milo apologizes with long, hot licks up the side of my face. I pull him into a hug, blinking back tears.

"Easy," Lach chuckles, holding out his hand to help me up. Again.

I show him my scraped-up, mud-covered hands.

"A little mud never hurt anyone; come on." He reaches out and pulls me up smoothly. "There we go." His smile gives me butterflies. He drags his thumbs over my cheeks, painting a line with the mud. "War paint for my little warrior." His hands dwarf my face. I grab one and turn it over, tracing the veins with my muddy fingertips.

Lach clears his throat. "I have an idea," he says, his gaze intense. "You've missed out on doing normal things the last five years, right?"

I nod.

"Let's fix that. Tell me what you feel you missed, and we'll do it."

"I can't – I have to finish Arty's tree." Disappointment sours in my stomach, followed by guilt for being ungrateful for the job.

"Yes, you can. We can stay in the highlands. That way, you'll still have time to work."

I mull it over for a minute. I'm only worried about finishing the tree; I can handle that by setting goals for the time I have left. As long as I stick to them, I can make it work. "It's a deal." I grin, my cheeks stretching wide.

Lach takes a deep breath, the material of his shirt stretching over his shoulders and arms. "You're beautiful when you smile, Charlie." He runs his thumb over my cheek in a light caress. "I can't wait to see how you look when..." His voice fades out, his gaze unfocused. He groans, deep and low. It travels straight to my core. I release a breath that's dangerously close to a moan and his eyes snap to mine. I back away from him slowly, desperately needing some space to clear the lust from my brain.

Lach clears his throat. "What do you want to do first?" he asks; only two steps and he's beside me again, the tension suffocating.

"Take a shower," I say truthfully.

Lach stills, his jaw working. "Then what," he grinds out, his gaze heavy.

"I want a tour of the farm." I've been dying to see what Lach and Jay spend so much of their lives on, and this is the perfect excuse.

"Done. When?"

I look at my wrist, then back up at him. "Now?" Lachlan grabs my arm and pulls me into the barn, up a set of stairs I hadn't noticed before. "Where are we going?"

"You said you wanted a shower, so we're going to shower."

"Together?" I balk, stopping in my tracks.

He turns toward me, confusion swirling in his eyes. "Are you scared of me, Charlie?"

I scrunch my forehead. "No. Not at all."

"Then why are you scared to take a shower with me? I would never hurt you. We can shower in our underwear, for all I care." He pulls me toward him, caressing my cheek with his thumb. "It's my fault you're in the state you're in. Just let me take care of you. Please."

"That sounds nice," I admit.

Lach nudges my chin up until I'm looking at him. "Nobody has ever taken care of you, have they?"

I shake my head, feeling pathetic.

He bends down, his lips whisper-light on mine. "I will take care of you forever if you let me, Carebear."

I laugh. "Is that a marriage proposal?"

He licks his lips, his pupils dilating. "Would you say yes?"

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