“Perfect.”

  “You’re the optimist,” Charlie raised his eyebrows. IF, and that was a big if, he and Emma got together, when it didn’t work out, he was going to have to see her every damn day. “And, let’s see if she lasts the winter. Women like her don’t last long in this town.”

  “Women like her?” Charlotte crossed her arms.

  Shit. He was digging himself into a hole – he probably should’ve just asked her if she was pregnant, it would’ve been less painful.

  “I’m still here,” she prodded.

  “You know what I mean.” Charlie tried to take a sip of his beer, but to his disappointment, it was gone. “You’re different.” Charlotte had grown up in Chance Rapids, she knew what she was getting into when she returned home after all those years. Emma had no idea how brutal the winter could be. He stood. “I’m going to get a beer. Would you like one?”

  “I’m okay, thanks.” She smiled.

  When he returned to the fire, Charlotte’s chair was empty – and so was Ethan’s. Emma was by herself. It wouldn’t be polite just to ignore her, would it? He took a breath, puffed out his chest, and took the first step of what seemed like the longest walk of his life, around the stone fire pit.

  As he approached, she turned to face him and smiled.

  “Flower girl,” he said.

  “Hipster Charlie.” She pumped her eyebrows at him and grinned. “I see you wore your hat.” Charlie’s heart leaped into his throat. Yep. He was in trouble.

  “Do you need a drink?” His voice cracked.

  She held up her beer, one of his, “I’m good.”

  “Is this seat taken?” It sounded so formal and he regretted the words the instant they slipped into the world.

  Emma patted the armrest of the chair beside her, “It’s all yours.”

  Charlie sat in the wooden chair, still warm from Ethan, and settled in. Before he could say anything, Emma shifted so that both of her knees were facing him, her legs crossed at the ankles. “Thanks again for helping me yesterday.”

  She was inches away, and if he relaxed, his leg would touch hers. He shifted and crossed his ankle over his knee, “No need, you’ve thanked me enough.” His mind immediately went to other ways she could thank him, and he squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to get his brain to start working. Sitting this close to Emma had awoken other parts of him, the parts between his legs, that now seemed to be thinking for him.

  They both stared into the fire, “It’s mesmerizing,” she said as the coals flickered and glowed. Charlie prodded the fire with a long, charred stick and sparks danced in the sky.

  “Humans have always been drawn to water and fire,” Charlie mused. “It’s in our DNA.” It wasn’t lost on Charlie that pheromones also drew humans to each other, and whatever she was putting out, he was picking up. They sat silently, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them, the surrounding conversations, and music had faded into a din around them.

  Freddie dragged a camp chair to the other side of Emma and sat down. “Now that’s a fire,” he smiled.

  For once, Charlie was thankful for Freddie’s bad timing. “Did the drywaller finish yet?” He leaned on his elbows, his face aglow in the firelight.

  “Tomorrow. There are a few patch jobs he has to come and finish up,” Emma said.

  “I heard you helped her get the framing done,” Freddie said, looking at Emma. “I know that was a huge help.”

  “It was,” she nodded in agreement.

  Charlie wondered what local gossiper had fed Freddie this tidbit. Freddie looked at Charlie, “Especially when you still need to get your own framing done.”

  Awkward.

  Charlie cleared his throat. “It’s almost done. The electrician still has to finish stringing the pot lights.” If Freddie could get a dig in at him, he was going to sling one right back. So far, Emma had been the only person who had been able to get Freddie to work at night, on a weekend, no less.

  Freddie laughed. “Soon, bud. Just as soon—”

  “You stole my chair.” Ethan’s voice interrupted Freddie’s excuse.

  “I didn’t realize this was yours.” Charlie looked under the armrest. “I don’t see your name on it.”

  Ethan squeezed Charlie’s shoulder. One alpha male against the other. “It’s alright, bud. I’m just joking.” He handed Emma a beer.

  “Thanks, Ethan,” she smiled. Charlie wondered if she was picking up on the silent standoff between the two men beside her. He glanced at Freddie, who raised his eyebrows, grinned, and then finished his beer. He was clearly enjoying himself.

  Emma tried to turn the beer cap in her hand and winced. She squeezed her hand and then examined her palm, the ridges from the cap had left a jagged red welt across her hand. “I don’t think it’s a screw-top,” she said and shook her hand.

  “Shit.” Ethan patted the pockets of his baggy jeans. “I’ll get an opener.”

  “It’s alright.” Charlie took the beer from Emma’s hand, positioned the cap just below the armrest of the chair, and the cap popped off when he hit it with the heel of his hand. He handed the bottle back to Emma as the foam bubbled out of the top.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” Emma raised her beer and Charlie met her bottle with his.

  Ethan took a step back, like he was ceding defeat, but then stopped. “Hey, Emma, when is your husband getting here?”

  Charlie’s lips drew into a tight line. His lie was about to bite him in the ass, he could feel it.

  “My husband?” She looked at Ethan, her eyebrow knitted. “I don’t have a husband.”

  “Oh, my mistake.” Ethan was drunk and speaking a little louder than normal. “I meant your boyfriend.”

  Emma looked to her lap, her cheeks were pink, and Charlie didn’t have to be a genius to see that she was embarrassed. “Ethan,” he interrupted.

  “What?” Ethan said. He swayed a little uneasily on his feet. Charlie wasn’t a fighter, but at that moment, he wanted to leap over the chairs and punch his friend in the face for embarrassing Emma.

  Freddie saw what was going on too. “Hey, Ethan. Can you look at my chainsaw? The carburetor is acting up again.”

  Ethan was like a golden retriever, easily distracted. “Yeah, man. I can help you with that.”

  Charlie let out the breath he had been holding as quietly as possible, his whole body had been coiled tightly, ready to defend Emma – and stop Ethan from embarrassing her any further – and if he was being truthful, exposing the lie he told him earlier. Of course, Ethan was pissed at him. He had lied, Charlie would’ve reacted the same way.

  What was he doing? Why was he acting like this?

  Freddie and Ethan disappeared into the woodshed. “Do you think it’s safe for either of those guys to be operating a chainsaw right now?”

  Freddie’s saw had been busted for a couple of weeks. It needed parts, not a drunk mechanic. “There’s no way those guys are getting that thing started tonight,” he laughed.

  The fire was dying down to embers and the rest of the partygoers had either left or were inside the house. Then, it was just the two of them.

  “Sorry about Ethan,” Charlie said.

  “Oh,” she waved her hand. “That’s okay. But I wonder why he thought I was married.” She rubbed at the ring finger of her left hand.

  “Gossip. Chance Rapids is the worst.”

  Emma shook her head. “And it’s not even true.”

  “It rarely is.”

  “Ethan is a good kid. He just needs to lay off the whiskey and stick to beer.”

  Emma smiled. “He seemed okay.” She clearly hadn’t picked up on the male posturing and how close he had come to breaking his fist into Ethan’s face. “And I don’t. she added quickly.”

  “Don’t what?” Charlie was confused at the change in the tone of her voice. It was softer, as though she were revealing a secret.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Whether it was the beer, the stars, the light of the dwindling fire, or No Woman No Cry, Charlie’s body seemed to take over – his mind was in the back seat as he stood, rested his hands on the arms of Emma’s chair and kissed her. He didn’t hesitate. There was no lingering should I, will she, is this a bad idea. No, as his lips met hers, she whimpered. His heart hammered in his ears as she dropped the bottle she was holding, to lace her fingers behind his neck.

  Her breaths were coming hard and fast and the gentleness of the kiss quickly progressed into something else. They kissed like it was urgent, like they were animals who had been caged, now freshly released into the wild. He ran his hands over hers, pulling them from his neck so he could draw her to her feet. She fell into him, her warmth meeting his, and this time it was her lips that sought out his. He cupped her cheeks and she clasped her hands behind his waist. It felt both like a first kiss, and a kiss shared between lovers who had known each other for years. Exciting and new, but comfortable and perfect. She squeezed him tightly as their lips explored each other’s, and he knew that she would feel the raging hard-on that was quite uncomfortably pressing against his jeans, testing the strength of the zipper. Instead of stopping, she pressed into him, and he almost lost control with the added pressure.

  She drew her face back, but kept her grip on his hips tightly, pulling his body even tighter against hers.

  “Charlie,” she whispered. Her breath warm on his ear, “I forgot to buy bear spray.”

  Charlie raised his eyebrows and rubbed his thumb on her cheek. Was she asking what he thought she was asking?

  “Will you walk me home?” she continued.

  Yes. Yes, she was. “Hell, yeah,” Charlie growled, knowing he could keep her safe from wildlife, but wondered how he was going to control the wild animal inside of him.

  Six

  Away from the warmth of the fire, the night air bit at Emma’s cheeks. It didn’t matter though; she was burning from the inside. Charlie’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder and she felt at home, protected under his wing. When they left Josh and Megan’s house, Emma was certain that she was doing the right thing. She knew that she was going to invite him in to do a whole lot more than kiss, but as they walked, the reasons why she should invite the muscular brew master into her sheets started to be outnumbered by the reasons why she shouldn’t.

  Even though she had only been in Chance Rapids for a short time, she saw how the rumor mill worked. When things went sour with Charlie, not only would everyone in town know about it, she would have to see him every damn day.

  They turned onto Aspen Lane from Main Street and a few drops of rain started to fall from the sky. Stopping under the shelter of a huge maple tree, Charlie drew Emma into his chest, his strong forearm hooked around her neck and he kissed the top of her head. She nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his scent – a mixture of cedar and freshly baked bread. They remained in their embrace long enough for their breathing to sync, and Charlie was the one to pull away. “I think we’re getting rained on,” he said.

  The shelter of the mature tree could only do so much, and somehow, while nestled into Charlie’s embrace, she hadn’t noticed that the rain had started to fall heavier, probably because Charlie’s body had been protecting her. She pulled away and immediately felt the drops from the laden maple leaves plopping heavily onto her head. “Should we make a run for it?”

  Charlie grabbed her hand, and she squealed as the two of them ran, as best as they could for being tipsy, all the way to the front porch of her rental home, hitting every single puddle along the way.

  “Charlie, --” Emma was interrupted by the scratch of Charlie’s beard as his lips pressed against hers. She melted against the red wooden door and arched against Charlie’s body as he pressed his into hers. She slipped her hands behind his neck, his dark hair silky on the back of her hands.

  “Yeah,” he pulled back an inch, his beard tickling her face with his words.

  “I want you to come in, I do,” she whispered and pressed her forehead to his chin. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, you know, being neighbors and everything.” She met his blue eyes.

  She felt the sigh of his breath as he kissed her forehead, “Or it could be perfect.”

  Emma had expected him to agree with her, to acknowledge that this was going to be a one-night roll in the hay that would lead to a series of uncomfortable encounters on the sidewalk in front of their stores – and sideways looks from everyone in town. She searched his eyes and felt like he was looking deep into her soul. She wanted to open the door and pull him inside her house. She wanted to rip off his three-button Henley and run her fingers up and down his abs. She wanted to feel his weight on top of her, pressing the breath from her lungs as she writhed beneath him.

  “Emma,” he whispered and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I like you. I get where you’re coming from, but tonight, when I saw you, I knew that there was something different about you. Something special.”

  Coming from anyone else, Emma would’ve laughed, but she agreed with Charlie. Her skin had prickled with excitement, wondering if he was going to show up at the barbecue, and when he did, a rush had passed through her body, leaving chills, the good kind, up and down her arms. She kissed his jawbone while conflicting thoughts raced through her mind.

  The dampness finally set in and Emma shivered. Charlie rubbed her arms vigorously in response. “If you’re here to stay in Chance Rapids,” he clarified, “We can take it slow. I don’t have to come in, but Emma, you’re incredible.”

  “I am here to stay,” she whispered. A drop of rain fell from Charlie’s eyelash and landed on her face. Then another. “Well, you are soaking wet. I can’t send you home like this.” She swiped her thumb across his forehead, stopping the next drops from falling down his face. “Slow?” she said. She held both of his hands.

  “As molasses in January.” He smiled and as if to provide an example he kissed her on the cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She grabbed the wet collar of his flannel shirt with her right hand and opened the door with her left, pulling Charlie into the mudroom of the bungalow. “Let’s get you out of this.” She pulled the shirt over his broad shoulders and he raised his eyebrows at her. “To put in the dryer.” She squeezed the shirt out over the peonies that were about to bloom and then shut the door behind them. She grabbed Charlie by the hand, his callouses a welcome change from the manicured soft hands of her ex and led him inside. “The bathroom is down the hallway, there are towels inside the closet. Hand me your clothes and I’ll put them in the dryer with mine.

  “Roger that, Flower Girl,” Charlie smiled and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Emma slipped into her bedroom and peeled the wet clothes from her body. She listened for any sound of Charlie approaching while she pondered over the options in her panty drawer. She held up her sexiest pair, lacy boy shorts, the cheeky kind that made her ass look great. “Slow, Emma.” she reminded herself and grabbed a pair of plain white cotton bikinis in the other hand. Neither seemed right. She settled on a cute pair of cheeky boy shorts with palm trees. She decided at that moment, IF she happened to get undressed with Charlie, the undies were going to stay on. But they might as well look cute. She dressed in blue striped cotton pajama pants and a white tank top. She was about to head down the hallway to get a towel for her hair, but when she caught a glimpse of her nipples hard and straining at the cotton tank, she pulled on a silk robe and tied the drawstring around her waist.

  “Charlie?” she rapped on the door with her knuckle. “Can you pass me a towel?”

  The door opened a crack and Charlie’s hand stuck out holding a towel.

  “Thanks.” Emma unfolded the towel. “Charlie,” she said quickly before he could shut the door again. “This is a hand towel, could you pass me a bigger one?”

  “There are bigger ones?”

  Charlie opened the door and Emma had to gulp down the water in her mouth, otherwise she would’ve spat it all over the floor. Charlie was standing naked, in her bathroom, with two hand towels tied together around his waist, barely covering him and his manhood. Emma snapped her gaze back to Charlie’s face and laughed. “They’re in the closet. Charlie turned and Emma let her eyes wander to the very indecent towel skirt wrapped around Charlie’s hips.

  “I can try to find you some sweatpants to wear until your clothes are dry.”

  “What, you don’t like my terry cloth mini?” He wagged his ass as he pulled a brightly colored beach towel from the cupboard.

  “You would get charged with indecent exposure, if you moved too fast.”

  “Yeah, bending over is definitely out of the question,” Charlie laughed. “It’s a good thing these big towels aren’t on the bottom shelf.”

  “Yeah,” Emma said. But if she were being truthful, she was hoping for one of Charlie’s knots to spontaneously release and give her the whole show. If his thick fingers were any indication, he was packing a girthy and long secret under that toga skirt.

  She didn’t get her wish. He wrapped the beach towel around his waist before undoing the ties on his makeshift coverup and then handed her a towel.

  “Thanks,” she smiled and twisted her long hair into the towel on top of her head.

  “I don’t know how girls do that,” he laughed.

  She touched the carefully wound towel on her head. “Says the guy who just fashioned a skirt out of two hand towels.” Emma’s stomach growled loudly, and she drew her hand to the front of her robe in embarrassment, as if placing her hand in front of her stomach could somehow quiet the whale calls.

  “I’m a little peckish myself,” Charlie smiled. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your fridge.” He passed by Emma and strode into the little kitchen, his face lit from the small light bulb in the refrigerator. “Oh my,” he said.

  He stepped back from the fridge and pulled out the second strawberry shortcake. “Can we eat this?”