Page 70 of Charlie

"What do you need help with?" he asks as I slide the eggs onto the toast, topping them with cheese and bacon.

"Absolutely nothing," I smile, handing a plate to him. "I'm happy to be able to do something for you finally." I press the coffee and pour it into mugs, motioning for him to sit before I hand it to him.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not keeping score. Being near you is enough."

"Stop," I protest, sitting next to him, setting my mug on the ground where I'm less likely to spill it all over myself.

"I'm not going to stop, Charlotte. You center my soul. I feel as if I've barely been living for a long time now – just going through the motions to get through every day. That night in the pub... God, I wish you could have felt what I was feeling. What I still feel." He takes a massive bite of his sandwich, licking the yolk dripping down his finger with one long swipe of his tongue. My stomach tightens. I take a bite, barely tasting it, emotions crowding out my senses.

"I felt it too. Still feel it," I say softly, picking up my mug and taking a careful sip. "It's like fate manipulated every part of my life to bring me to that one singular moment." I meet his gaze, my heart in my throat, vulnerability threatening to strangle the breath from my lungs. I swallow around the lump in my throat. "I think I?—"

"Love you." Jack finishes, one side of his mouth tilting up in a sheepish smile.

"You do?" I blow out a shuddering breath, hope clawing its way up from the deepest pits of hell.

"Yes, Charlotte. I love you more than I thought I could ever love someone. It's infiltrated every single molecule in my body, pierced the core of every atom until I'm positive I wouldn't exist without you."

"How?" I ask, exasperated. "I fucked one of your best friends, and I've done everything but with the other. How can you still want me?" I blurt it out, finally voicing the niggling doubt that has been inside me this whole time.

He stands up and leans over me, palming my throat, his thumb pushing my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Nothing you do could ever make me love you less. Do you understand me?" I don't answer right away, and his eyes darken with frustration. He lowers his mouth to mine, pushing his tongue past my lips in a fiery kiss that steals my breath away. "Do you understand?" he asks again.

"Yes! Fuck!" I croak, the enormity of the situation crashing over me. "This is going to be so messy. The visa, the divorce, I'll have to find a job and somewhere to stay."

"You won't be doing it alone, Charlotte, we'll be right there by your side the entire time," he assures me. "We'll sit down with Lach when we get back and get in touch with Cam. Then we'll take it day by day, okay?" He cups my jaw, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

I nod. Can I really do this? Move thousands of miles for two – maybe three – guys that have changed my entire world? My other option is to go back to the meager existence I had before I came here. Returning to shades of gray when I've been living in technicolor for the last two months. I can't imagine going back to that life any more than I can imagine going back to Rob.

Jack pulls me into his arms, tipping my chin to capture my lips with his. I open for him, finally surrendering to the inevitability of this. Of him. Of them.

"What do you say we pack up and head back? I'm anxious to tell Lach about Cam and figure out a game plan," Jack says, his lips trailing along my jaw as he speaks.

"He's not going to be mad, is he?" I ask.

"God, no. He'll be ecstatic. He and Cam had a thing going for years but stopped after Emily broke things off. The feelings are still there, though, as far as I'm aware." He folds the chairs and throws them into the truck. "You have no idea how good it will feel for all of us to be together again."

"If Cam agrees to go along with it," I remind him. "How are we going to get in touch with him?"

"Is he still in Africa?"

"I think so. I haven't heard from him in a couple of weeks."

"Lach has a satellite phone on his boat. We'll try that first," Jack says as he begins breaking down the camp.

"How do you know who to call?" I ask as I help him fold the bedding.

"I don't, but I'm hoping the university does."

"Where exactly does he teach? Like what part of Scotland?" I ask, imagining some creepy old school in a remote part of the highlands.

"Lewis."

I gape at him. I never dreamed it would be so close. "Wait,where does he live?"

"Did the two of you skip the whole getting to know each other part?" he asks, chuckling as he closes up the back of the truck.

I shrug. "Kind of? I know him but not about him, if that makes sense."

"I'm just teasing you, Sassenach. He lives in the east wing."

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