Tricks (Take It Off #6)(48)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I didn’t love Charlotte. Not yet. I wouldn’t let myself. But I knew when—if—I ever lowered those walls within me, even just a little, that loving her would be the easiest thing I ever did.

I didn’t bring up Nathan’s suggestion to Charlotte because I knew how she would react. She was back to pulling long hours at work, getting up and working out in the early morning hours, and while I knew she wanted me here, I couldn’t help but notice how she went out of her way to avoid my touch.

I might be able to get past that she used to be my brother’s, but I wasn’t sure she ever could.

I understood it.

And now it was time for me to move on. For me to go home.

The key in the door was a distinct sound, and I glanced over from my position on the couch, watching Charlotte let herself in.

She was wearing a no-nonsense suit, heels, and her hair was severely brushed back from her face. The exhaustion in her face was clear and so was her unhappiness.

“Hey,” I called.

“Hey.” She dumped her briefcase and bag on the island and stepped up beside the couch. “How did your appointment go today?”

“Doc gave me a clean bill of health.”

“Oh,” she said, not sounding as happy as I expected. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yep,” I said, deciding to test the waters. “He said I was okay to travel. So that means I can go to North Carolina.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice mildly alarmed yet resigned.

And that’s when I knew.

I knew I couldn’t walk out of here without at least trying. I wanted her too badly and I hoped she wanted me too.

“Nathan can’t do all the work at the PI firm forever.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, backtracking into the kitchen.

Backtracking = running away.

A few cabinets opened and closed, and I heard some liquid being poured into a glass. I stood and glanced at her. She was pouring a glass of wine.

I stifled a grin.

“What are you doing home so early?” I asked, noting it was only early afternoon.

“I wanted to see how your appointment went.” She took a sip of wine. “And now I know.” Another swallow of liquor made it down her throat.

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to get me off the couch and have the bathroom to yourself.”

Charlotte grabbed the glass of wine and spun, putting her back to me. “You do snore.”

I laughed.

When she kept her back toward me, I knew she was upset.

“Come with me,” I said.

She stiffened and spun, clutching the glass in front of her. “What?”

“Come to North Carolina with me. The firm needs a good lawyer to keep me out of trouble.”

The longing in her eyes practically stopped my heart. Damn. I knew she felt something for me, but I was always afraid that it hadn’t been as strong as what I was feeling.

I was wrong.

The sheen of tears coated her eyes, making them sparkle against the afternoon sun filtering through the kitchen window. “I can’t,” she said, her voice catching.

Charlotte spun away again, turning so I couldn’t see her face. The apartment grew still and quiet. Neither of us moved.

I asked. She answered. I should have walked away before it got any harder.

Fuck. That.

“There’s more to living than just being alive,” I said softly. My voice was like the pin drop you could hear in a silent room.

Her breath hitched and I knew I had a captive audience.

“There’s more than just going through the motions of daily life.” I took a step forward.

When I moved, she looked over her shoulder, our eyes colliding. It was as if we were tethered together, tethered by the words that rushed softly out of my mouth.

“More than putting on a suit and sitting behind a desk for eighty hours a week. More than scheduling time for everything from eating to brushing your teeth.” The distance between us closed with every step I took, and it was like there was this invisible pull—this gravity that was pulling me toward her.

She swallowed thickly. I felt the movement more than I saw it. I knew how she felt. I knew exactly what her insides felt like.

It was the feeling you got just stepping off a tilt-a-whirl that spun you in erratic and random circles. It was the feeling that you experienced when you got shocked by something charged. Little sizzles of electricity raced just beneath the skin, causing everything to vibrate, everything to hum.

I knew that’s what she was feeling…

Because I felt it too.

I stepped up close and her body swayed toward me, like fighting the pull between us was proving too hard. “I know you want to make your father proud,” I said, reaching out to release her hair. “You want to follow in his footsteps, but he wouldn’t want that for you. He wouldn’t want you working so much and so hard that you have a fatal heart attack.”

The clip slid out of her hair effortlessly, and I let it fall from my fingers onto the floor. Cascades of thick honey-colored hair waved out, falling down her back.

I grasped her by the shoulders and guided her around so I could delve not one, but both of my hands into the thick mass and pull my fingers through the silky waves, spreading it out over her shoulders.

“You’re too beautiful for this,” I whispered, tugging on the very tips of the strands. Her breathing caught when my knuckle grazed over her breast. “You’re too beautiful to spend your life closed off from everyone, doing only the things you’ve made a list to do and refusing to veer from that path.”

Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips, just enough to tease the fullness of her mouth, but not enough for complete contact. When I brushed against her again, I tasted the damp saltiness of a tear. I cupped her face, tilting her head back, and looked into her eyes. Single, silent tears were falling over her lashes and melting into my skin.

“Come with me, Charlie. Take a chance on life. Take a chance on me. I’ll make you happy.”

I captured her lips. I held her face firmly in my grasp and ravaged her mouth. I poured everything I had into that kiss, teasing and tasting. Taunting and giving. Her lips were a buffet and I planned to stuff myself until I was full.

Charlotte wrapped her hands around my wrists and squeezed, pressing just a little bit closer, applying a bit more pressure against our lips. Her tongue traced the outline of my lower lip, and she sucked it into her mouth, making me groan. I tilted my head in the opposite direction and kissed her that way, and I stroked her with my tongue.