Breaking through, p.3
Breaking Through, page 3
CHAPTER 4
Sam pushed the door open and guided Charlotte through with a hand on the small of her back. “You’re not sharing with anyone?” she asked, dropping her handbag onto a chair and glancing around.
“Noah, but he can figure something else out. Karma for his remarks yesterday on my smell.” He flashed her a grin and pushed the door shut behind him with his foot. “The way he and Marcy were getting on, it shouldn’t be much of a problem. In fact, I bet we are doing him a favor.”
Charlotte laughed, bending to slip the sandals off her feet. Sam stood frozen at the door, studying her. Isolated from booze and the intoxicating vibes of wedding romance, his courage waned. “Chuck, I—”
She didn’t allow him to finish. His back slammed into the door as her body crashed into him. Sam’s hands came up and caught her by the hips. Her arms encircled his neck, and she pulled his mouth down to meet hers. With the vigor she displayed in everything she did, Charlotte kissed him. Her tongue tagged his, sweet with the flavours of wine and peach lips gloss.
Charlotte’s round hips pressed against his. The muscles strained beneath his palms as she pushed onto her toes. A whimper vibrated in his mouth. Who it originated from, Sam wasn’t sure.
She pulled back, her lips swollen, her neck and cheeks mottled from the rub of his five o’clock shadow. “Where’s the condom?”
Sam stared at her for a moment, head swimming. “Condom?”
“Yes. You know, little rubber thing? Saves people from the consequences of their drunken nights much like this one?” Her dark eyes sparkled.
Sam let his head thud against the door. “Shit,” he mumbled.
“Shit?”
“How do I not have a condom?” he growled, allowing his head to flop against the door with a dull thud.
“God, Sam,” Charlotte groaned, pressing her forehead to his. “Are you serious? I thought guys packed them in their wallets from the time their balls dropped. Like the condom of hope? And it sits there so long it wears a ring shape in the leather!”
A powerful urge to cry with frustration strangled him. Attempting to battle enough blood back into place to form a plan, he shoved the hair off his brow. Charlotte thwarted his efforts to regain composure by using his tie to pull his face to her level and kissing him.
“Go. Find. One.” She growled in his mouth. “There was a basket of toiletries in the ladies’ room. There were a few in there. Let’s hope all the horny people in this place haven’t used them up.”
“Okay.” Sam nodded vigorously. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Go!” She smacked his ass as Sam turned and rushed out of the room.
One left, hidden under a stack of tampons. Sam resisted the urge to kiss the tin foil packet as he rushed out of the washroom.
“Sam? What the hell?”
In his haste, he nearly barreled over Carmen’s sister as she came around the corner. “Marcy. Hey—”
Her pale brows arched, and she cocked her head at him. “What were you doing in the ladies’ room?”
Sam looked at her, opened his mouth. Then snapped it closed again, unable to make himself care about politeness at the moment.
“Sorry, gotta go.” He slipped past her and ran down the hall. As he rushed back toward the elevator, a disgruntled “Shit!” echoed from the washroom.
“Chuck?” The room was silent as Sam eased the deadbolt into place with a click and turned. Charlotte lay curled up in the middle of one of the queen-sized beds.
“Are you awake?” He already knew the answer, but he had to try. His body wouldn’t have it any other way. With a sigh that slumped his entire body, Sam padded over to the other bed and pulled the comforter off. After covering Chuck with the quilt, he went into the washroom and cranked the shower to full blast.
***
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Carmen said when Sam entered the hotel’s dining room the following morning. Sawyer sat at her side, his head propped on his hand while he methodically shoved toast into his mouth. He looked as exhausted as Sam felt, but for presumably much more satisfying reasons. At Sam’s sigh, Sawyer cocked his head at his brother. There was a low hum of chatter from other guests, but they were some of the first to face the day.
“I wish I were a sleepyhead,” Sam said, slumping into a chair beside Carmen. “I’m not sure I slept a single wink.”
“Intriguing,” Sawyer said, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewing as he stared Sam down.
“Stop it, you’re freaking me out.” Sam dragged the coffee carafe in front of him and then stared longingly at the cream until Carmen sighed and passed it over to him. Sam groaned in response and sloshed a healthy dollop into his cup.
“You didn’t go to bed alone last night, so don’t even bother trying to distract me,” Sawyer said, seizing his coffee cup. Being presented with Sam’s discomfort and the foulness of his mood seemed to have invigorated Sawyer. He was eating like a starving man, and it only drove the sliver of frustration further into Sam’s heart. He glared across the table at his brother.
“Why would you think that?” he asked, turning his attention to his mug rather than face his brother.
“Because we ran into Noah sitting in the hall outside your door, flicking the Do Not Disturb sign and lamenting the fact he had nowhere to sleep.”
Sam winced. In the excitement of having Charlotte in his arms and his room, he’d forgotten about his cousin.
Carmen released a funny little squeak of excitement and put her mug down with a grin. “Don’t worry, Sammy, Noah found somewhere to sleep.” The look on her face told him she was about to burst at the seams if he didn’t hurry and ask where. He blinked at her once, slowly, because he was her brother now and had to torture her a little, then asked. “Where did he find a place to sleep, Carm?”
“In Marcy’s room!” Carmen announced in a voice that should have been a whisper but hadn’t known its strength. She clasped both hands over her mouth, then leaned closer to him. “Sawyer went out to get us more ice, and he saw him going inside.”
Carmen’s older sister, Marcy, had planned to bring her twin sons to the wedding. At the last minute, their grandparents on their father’s side asked if the boys could stay with them for the weekend. Sam sensed it wasn’t a straightforward decision for Marcy—he knew a bit about the family’s tumultuous history from Sawyer—but in the end, she left the boys and drove up alone. Sam shrugged. “Maybe your sister took pity on him and let him use the extra bed the twins were going to sleep in.”
Carmen’s red-brown brows drew together. “No, Sam Stevenson. They made love all night, and now they can’t live without each other. They are going to get married and have lots of babies. Got it?”
Sam stared at her for a long moment, then leaned toward his brother and said in a loud whisper out of the corner of his mouth, “You married a crazy lady.”
Sawyer’s face split into a ridiculous grin that showed his latest bite of toast. “I know,” he said. “But I look past it because she’s so damn hot.”
CHAPTER 5
“What about him?” Harper jerked her head in the direction of the table Charlotte had been serving. Setting down the tray of mugs, she stretched as if the weight had been unbearable. “He’s cute.”
Charlotte wrinkled her nose and studied the man at table ten. He came in once a month. Harper was right. He was cute, and she had noticed it before. Dark hair, kinked with a slight wave, fell above a pair of grey eyes. Charlotte sighed. “He’s so... predictable. He always orders the same thing.”
Harper raised her brows, confused. “So?”
“It’s only that... when someone is so boring about their food choices, don’t you think maybe they are the same way in other aspects of their life?”
“I’ve never thought that.” Harper frowned. “Though now I might.” She tapped one finger against her chin, her expression thoughtful. “Perhaps an experiment is in order.”
Charlotte pretended she hadn’t heard and went on. “Once table ten was occupied, so he left and came back when it was empty.”
“That’s a tad weird. But hey, we all are a tad weird.” She elbowed Charlotte on the way to the coffeepot. “Some of us more than others. You’ll get nowhere if you don’t try.”
“I try.” She so did not try. With a sigh, Charlotte sucked at her bottom lip.
“How long has it been now since your ‘wedding incident?’” Harper made air quotes around her words, penciled-on brows raised high.
“Three months.”
“Geez, woman.”
Three months since Sam had kissed her and splintered her entire view of their relationship. The man she had blithely considered a brother for over half her life had morphed into a sexual being Charlotte desperately wanted to kiss again. Then the next day, he was back, her old Sam, shy and awkward. He had never mentioned what had passed between them since, so she hadn’t either.
Harper snapped her fingers in front of Charlotte’s glazed eyes, and she jumped. “I’m beginning to worry about you. What if your vagina closes up from lack of use?”
“Oh, my God!” Charlotte hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.
Harper crossed her arms and frowned. “Do you want me to tell Carmen what’s going on?”
“Shit, no! Fine, I’ll ask boring table ten out.” Tossing a glare over her shoulder at Harper for good measure, Charlotte snatched the coffee pot and stalked across the café.
“Can I grab you anything else?” she asked when she reached the table. “More coffee?” She extended the pot and waggled her brows as the contents sloshed. “It’s fresh.”
“Well, in that case”—the patron, who may or may not be dull in bed, held his mug out to her with a lopsided grin—“but pour it slow so I can finally talk to you.”
Charlotte faltered, losing a few drops of rich brown liquid over the rim of the cup.
“Finally? Have you tried it before?”
He nodded. “To no avail. You’re always zipping around this place like Wonder Woman.”
“I apologize. In the future, I’ll attempt to be less wonderful.”
His laugh was sincere, and the timbre of it sent a pleasant sensation through her insides. She studied his face. His slate-grey eyes stood out against a rim of lashes so dark they were straight-up enviable. His jaw was square and clean-shaven. Charlotte couldn’t help the niggling suspicion he spent more time in front of the mirror in the morning than she did.
“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the tragic decline of your wonderfulness.” Fine lines fanned from the corners of his eyes when he smiled.
“My boss might ban you if he discovered you were behind it.” Charlotte set his cup back down an inch from his hand and hugged the pot to her chest.
“Then I wouldn’t be able to come in, sit in your section, and drink copious amounts of coffee, hoping to catch your attention.
“Hmmm, slightly creepy.” Charlotte frowned. “Maybe a little stalkerish. Would this be a good time to tell you that you only get one free refill?”
“Then your friend over there must like me more than you do, and I owe this place a lot of money.”
Charlotte sighed and shook her head. “She’s too soft, that one. No stomach for rule enforcement.”
“I’m glad the blame falls on her generosity and not my ability to be charming.” His smile held just the right amount of self-deprecation for him to soften his words. “So, are you going to tell me your name, or should we just stick with Wonder Woman?”
“I believe someone claimed that moniker a long time ago.”
“Hmmm, the real one, then? Or should we brainstorm another alias?”
“The real one, I suppose, though I see no reason I can’t think of an alias if the fancy strikes.”
He laughed, then raised a dark, expectant brow. “Well?”
“Well, what?” Charlotte asked.
“What is your name?”
“Charlotte. Charlotte Baker, though, speaking of alias, my friends have this lovely habit of calling me Chuck.”
This time, both his brows shot up. “No way.”
“I know, flattering, right?”
“My friends call me Chuck.” He extended a hand to her, and Charlotte placed hers against his palm. It was smoother than she expected, but his grip was firm. “Charles Walston.”
“So, the meeting of the Chucks.” She couldn’t help grinning at the absurdity, and she could admit Charles was pretty good at the playful banter for a boring guy. “I’m waiting for the lights to flicker mysteriously,” she said.
They both glanced upward, and Charles laughed. “I’m sure the universe isn’t overly concerned with us meeting. Somewhere the meeting of the two Sebastians, or Gabriels, is getting the monopoly on light flickering.”
Charlotte let out a snort of laughter. “Why Sebastians or Gabriels?”
Charles shrugged. “One is a way cooler name than Chuck, and one is angelic. Plus, they were all I could think of on the spot. So, dinner tomorrow night?”
Charlotte twitched at the abruptness of the subject change. “I—” She glanced over to where Harper still hovered by the till, unabashedly staring at them before she nodded. “Yes. All right.” Then, in her best shot at a game show host voice, “Let’s make a date.”
“You’re totally weird, Charlotte Baker,” Charles said. “I like it.”
Leaving Charles laughing at the table, Charlotte scooped up the coffeepot and walked away.
***
“Sam kissed me.” Charlotte blurted, then squeezed her eyes shut while she waited for the resulting implosion. Harper could not blackmail her by telling Carmen if there was no secret to tell. The rationalization didn’t quell the pounding of her heart.
Carmen had insisted on them both going for pre-honeymoon Mani-Pedis. Now, sitting in an overly white café off the spa, Charlotte had come to the uncomfortable realization she had to share the news with her friend.
Carmen spluttered on a swallow of latte and slammed her mug down, coughing until her face turned an alarming shade of crimson. “What?” she gasped. “When? How?”
Face hot, Charlotte lifted her drink, avoiding Carmen’s wide eyes. “At your wedding. And the normal way, lips to lips. We were drinking. We danced. He was so nervous about his speech, I thought he’d implode. Then, afterward, we were at the bar, and he gave me this... this look.” Goosebumps prickled along her arms.
Carmen leaned toward her. “What look?” she whispered.
“It was like he wasn’t Sam anymore. At least not the Sam I’ve known for so long. He was a predator, and I was some little mouse.”
Carmen snickered, then held up her hands. “I’m sorry! Just the analogy was fitting. You do squeak a lot.”
“Do you want me to tell the story or not?” Charlotte glared at Carmen until she nodded, then leaned across the table. “It was electric. We were sitting there at the reception, and I didn’t even care who was looking.”
She took a deep breath. Flushed when the air stuttered and jerked over her lips. “He took my hand and kissed my wrist.” She reached out and tapped the blue ribbon running beneath the surface of her friend’s nearly translucent skin.
“Then he slid his hand over my knee, grabbed the back of my leg, and pulled me against him.”
Carmen bobbed her head, never taking her rapt gaze from Charlotte’s.
“Then he took my face in his hands—”
“Like, a chin cup? Or between the palms?” Carmen interrupted.
Charlotte reached up and cupped Carmen’s smooth jaw in her palm. The warm press of Sam’s fingertips against her pulse echoed in her memory. Somehow, knowing Sam as she did, she understood he had been monitoring her. He was reading and considering her reaction to him and his proximity. Both women ignored the slack-jawed stare of the man at the next table. “Like that, only all the way.”
“Oh...” Carmen breathed. “That’s sexy.”
A high-pitched noise escaped Charlotte. A squeak of frustration or excitement, she wasn’t sure. She clasped both hands over her mouth, realizing she had proved Carmen right. “I know,” she whispered through her fingers. “Where the hell was I when Sam got sexy?”
Carmen gave her a pointed look but was kind enough not to voice the obvious.
“Did you notice? When you met him?” Charlotte asked, immediately regretting allowing the questions to slip out.
Carmen laughed. “I’m a terrible person to ask. I think all the Stevensons are sexy.”
“Even Alice?”
“Especially Alice!”
Their laughter drew several looks, ranging from curious to annoyed. Both women sank lower into their chairs, ribs straining with contained mirth.
“What happened next?” Carmen skidded her chair around the table, so they sat side by side.
“We went to his room. I wanted... oh, man, I would have, but we didn’t have protection.”
Carmen’s brow creased in puzzlement, “I thought guys always had one, like in their wallet in some secret condom pouch or something.”
“So did I! But he didn’t, and he went to look for one.” Charlotte heaved a deep sigh. “Well, I was drunk and—”
Carmen gasped. “You threw up my wedding dinner?”
“No! You know me better than that!” Charlotte let out a deflating sigh. “I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep?” Carmen echoed in a perfect Rachel Green impression before dissolving into another fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She waved a hand in Charlotte’s face. “Go on.”
“That’s it. I woke up covered with a blanket. My shoes were off. Sam was on the other bed, sound asleep. I went to my room and got ready for breakfast. I was planning to talk to him, but he acted all weird and... and Sam-like.”
“So, you guys haven’t talked since?”
“No.” Charlotte pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed. “I don’t know what to think.”
Carmen frowned. “You need to think about the fact you’re dealing with Sam Stevenson. That man is capable of going full hermit if we don’t keep an eye on him.”
“This is true. I’m just... I don’t know!”
