Chapter Twenty-nine

Owen

“Shall we?” I hold out my arm for Charlie to take. She loops her arm through mine and looks up, smiling.

“We shall.”

I parked on the street, and we’re walking up the sidewalk to her parents’ house. Chaos reigns around us as soon as we step foot inside. Two dogs come running, and one wags its tail so hard it knocks over a decorative vase on the coffee table in the living room. Charlie’s niece, Libby, is upstairs in what I think is supposed to be a timeout. She’s screaming and crying and banging on a closed door.

Her youngest nephew cries from somewhere deeper inside the house, and the TV is blaring Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

“I have no idea why you left,” I say and take my shoes off. “It’s so quiet and peaceful here.”

She rolls her eyes and takes off her heels. “Right?” Taking her phone out of her purse, she turns just in time to see one of the dogs pick up her shoe and run off with it.

“Drop it, Chewy!” she calls, chasing after the dog. “Those are Gucci!”

The other dog jumps up at me, tail wagging.

“Hey, buddy,” I say and kneel down so the dog stops jumping. Looking through the foyer and into the living room, I’m taken back to the last time we were here.

This is where we sat when I broke Charlie’s heart. When I told her I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship and wanted to have fun.

Fuck, I was an idiot.

If I hadn’t done that, I wonder where we’d be. Would that be our kid upstairs throwing a huge temper tantrum? Would we have two unruly dogs? Or—gulp—a dozen or so cats?

“Libby, if I hear one more—oh, Owen!” Carly comes through the dining room, looking up at the stairs.

“Hey, Carly. Long time no see.”

“Oh my God, yes!” She sets down the toddler in her arms and gives me a hug. “I feel like you got taller. Did you get taller?”

“Maybe you got shorter.”

“Fatter, that’s for sure, but I don’t know about shorter,” she laughs.

“I see they’re about to break ground on your lot soon.”

She picks up the little boy again. His eyes are red and swollen from crying and he rests his head against her, obviously ready for a nap he doesn’t want to take.

“I am so flipping excited. Not that I’m not grateful to be here, but it’ll be nice to have room to have all our things spread out again.” Her eyes go to the formal living room, which is doubling as a playroom for now.

“Got it,” Charlie says, coming back into the foyer holding her shoe. The dog follows behind her, playfully jumping and trying to get the shoe back. “These are going in here for safe keeping.” She grabs her other shoe and mine as well and puts them in the front closet.

“Do you want a drink?” Carly asks over Libby’s screams. The kid’s got an impressive set of lungs on her.

“Sure,” I say, and Charlie eagerly nods.

Carly leads the way into the kitchen, and I put my arm around Charlie, pulling her close. “You still want to have sex, right? I’m making sure now in case you get shit-faced again.”

She laughs and pushes me away. “I did not get shit-faced last night. And about the other thing.” She purses her lips together and shrugs. “Let’s see where the night takes us.”

Carly goes around the island counter and crouches down, opening the wine fridge. I take her distraction to my advantage and grab Charlie around the waist and bring her to me. We’re around the corner, but if Carly takes a step back, she’ll see us.

“What are you doing?” Charlie hisses. She goes to push me away again, but I can see the lust in her eyes.

“Trying to sway you.” I put my lips to hers and she melts against me. Heat pours off her body, and she wraps her arms around my neck, standing on her toes and pushing her hips against mine. My tongue slips into her mouth and the same desperate passion we felt last night takes us over. I press her against the wall, and she groans as I deepen the kiss.

“What about red Moscato?” Carly asks and sets a bottle on the counter. Charlie and I break apart, both breathless.

“Not fair,” she whispers and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yeah. Carly, that sounds good.”

“What about you, Owen? I can try to make you something. I know there’s whiskey in the pantry.”

“Wine is fine,” I say and adjust my pants when she turns to grab two glasses. It was just one kiss and yet I’m getting turned on. Charlie plants her hands on the counter and lets out a breath. It’s safe to say she is too.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She took Matt for a bike ride,” Carly tells her.

“How old is he?” I ask.

“Six.”

“My nephew lives a few blocks away. They’re around the same age.”

“Jackson, right?”

I nod. “That’s him.”

“They played at the park together just yesterday. Jackson is a cute kid.”

“He gets that from me,” I say with a smile.

Carly grabs three glasses and pours the wine. “How’s Tulip?” she asks Charlie as we sit at the island.

“She’s doing much better.”

“Good. I still feel so bad about that.”

“You should,” Charlie says seriously before laughing. “I don’t blame you entirely.”

“Just a little?”

“Oh, of course.”

The screaming upstairs stops. Carly takes a big drink of wine. “Finally,” she sighs.

“What’s Libby in trouble for?”

“Jack took one of her Barbies and instead of letting me handle it, she yanked it from his hand and pushed him. He hit his head on the dresser, of course.”

“Awww, poor baby.” Charlie picks up Jack. “You just wanted to play dolls, huh, little guy?”

He mutters something and reaches for Charlie’s hair. She and her sister look alike. Charlie is much prettier, but I’d never say that to anyone out loud. Jack has light brown hair and dark blue eyes. He looks like his mother, which in turn makes him resemble Charlie.

She’ll make a good mom someday, and before I can even stop myself, I think of her pregnant with my child. Of us living together, happy, married and in love.

How it should have been.

How it will be.

This is my chance and I’m not going to blow it this time.

“I should go check on her.” Carly drains her wine and goes upstairs. Jack nestles down into Charlie’s arms, head resting on her breasts.

“Kid’s got the right idea,” I say and Charlie glares at me. “I’ll have to steal his spot later.”

“Owen,” she scolds.

“What? Thinking about us is getting you all hot and bothered, isn’t it?”

I expect her to tell me no, to get my mind out of the gutter and grow up. Something like that. I don’t expect her to sink her teeth into her bottom lip and agree with me.

“I want you to kiss me again.” Her voice comes out all breathy.

“I want to kiss you again too.” I scoot my stool closer to hers and run my fingers through her hair. Her eyes fall shut and she lets her head fall in my direction.

Then the back door opens, and her other nephew, Matt, comes running into the house. His face is red and his hair all sweaty from wearing a helmet out in the heat.

“Hey, Aunt Charlie!” he exclaims, startling Jack, who was starting to drift to sleep. “Who are you?” he asks me.

“Hi, I’m Owen. I’ll be your neighbor when you move into your new house.”

He looks at me and then at Charlie. “Are you two having sex?”

Charlie’s mouth falls open. “Matt! Y-you—where did you—no, we’re—how do you know what that is?”

He shrugs. “Jacob’s brother told us about it.”

I let out a snort of laughter. “How old is Jacob’s brother?”

“Fourteen.”

“Kids are starting younger and younger these days.”

“That’s so not the point.” Charlie shakes her head. “You shouldn’t talk like that,” she tells him.

“What’d he say now?” Carly comes back into the kitchen.

“I asked if they’re having sex,” Matt says proudly, and I have to turn away so the kid doesn’t see me laughing. It’ll only encourage him to keep saying it if he knows people find it funny.

“Matthew James Tully. We talked about this. That is not appropriate.”

“Keith says everyone does it.”

“Lord have mercy.” Carly grits her teeth and shakes her head. “Your father is going to deal with this one. Go wash your hands, please.” She waits until he’s out of earshot to talk again. “He doesn’t know what sex is. Justin and I talked to him about it. I thought he’d forgotten about it. I am so sorry.”

“I think it’s hilarious,” I laugh. “Jackson went through a phase where he talked about how babies get put inside a mommy by a daddy.”

“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.” Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“That was all on Dean, actually. Even I know better than to open that can of worms.”

“The last thing I need is him asking people at school this fall if they’re having sex.”

Charlie laughs. “It is kind of funny.”

“It kind of is. Like when Libby said penis all the time when she was three. But it’s embarrassing if it’s said to the wrong people.”

“We’re not the wrong people,” I assure her. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks. And I do wonder…” She looks at her sister and raises her eyebrows. Charlie swats her away and Jack climbs out of her arms, wanting his mom to hold him. Mrs. Williams comes into the house a moment later.

“Owen!” I get up and hold out my hand, but she pulls me into a hug instead. “How have you been, dear?”

“Good. Busy with work, but life’s been good.”

“Hopefully it’s only getting better,” Carly mumbles and Charlie elbows her again.

“Dad is bringing home steaks to cook on the grill,” Mrs. Williams tells us. “He should be here any minute.”

“Need any help with dinner?” Charlie asks and her mother shakes her head.

“I got everything else prepared already. Libby was a good helper with the pasta salad.”

“I’m going to try to get this one down for a quick nap before dinner,” Carly tells us and takes Jack into the living room.

“Is Justin working late tonight?” Charlie asks. I think Justin is Carly’s husband. Charlie and I had already broken up by the time her sister got married. I don’t even remember her dating anyone named Justin.

“Yes, he’s been working all the overtime he can get lately.”

“I can’t blame him,” Charlie says and looks at me with a wink. The house is chaotic and crazy. I might work extra to avoid it too. I went from living at home, living on campus, to living with Logan. I wonder how it would be to live with my in-laws.

Mrs. Williams pours herself a glass of wine and we move into the sunroom at the back of the house. The dogs follow but have settled down by this time and lie down on the cool tile floor. Charlie sits next to me on the loveseat, and I put my arm around her out of habit. She doesn’t move away or flinch this time. Does it feel like habit to her too?

It’s weird, how it feels both new and old.

When Mr. Williams comes home, I go out on the back porch with him, talking as he grills the steaks. I always liked him, and he reminds me of my own father in some ways. We talk about work and business and he doesn’t bring up how I broke Charlie’s heart all those years ago.

We were kids then. I’ve changed. She’s changed. We’ve changed.

*

“That was nice.” Charlie pulls the seatbelt over her lap and clicks it in place.

“It was.” I start the engine. “Did you drink enough wine to get all frisky again?”

She laughs. “You know I don’t need wine to make me frisky.”

“Mmm, that sounds promising.”

Shaking her head, she rolls down the window. The sun is just now starting to set. We stayed at her parents’ later than planned. After dinner, we all sat around talking. I can tell Charlie’s missed being around her family after being away in New York for years. And I really have always liked the Williams.

“It’s such a nice night.” She sticks her arm out the window. “That breeze feels so good. Would you think it was lame if I asked if we could go on a walk after we get back to your place?”

“Not lame at all.”

“Great.” She smiles and brings her other hand across the center console and rests it on my thigh. I flick my eyes down, watching her long fingers spread out. I imagine them wrapped around my cock. I need to stop before I get a hard-on right here in the car. “I’ll change my shoes first. These were expensive as fuck but not comfortable at all.”

“Quinn likes all that designer stuff too. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t really either,” she admits. “I do like some of it, like the bags and the belts, and think they really are of good quality, but some of the other stuff is just ridiculous. There was an unwritten dress code at my old firm, though, and I’m ashamed to say that I wanted to fit in.”

“I don’t think there’s any shame in wanting to fit in.”

“Really? You’ve always done your own thing and not cared about what others think.”

“Well, I’m awesome and the exception to the rule.”

She laughs and runs her hand up my thigh, fingers inching toward the inseam of my jeans. “I wouldn’t really say I’m a follower or anything, but I really did want to be in with my co-workers. I tried hard for the first year and then realized it was stupid. I wore the same clothes, carried the same bags, and went to the same overpriced salon, and still felt like an outsider.”

“Why was that?”

“Because I was an outsider. It took me a year and thousands of wasted dollars before I admitted it to myself. You said it yourself. I’m not a big city person. I like the excitement of the job, but not the lifestyle or the pressure to look a certain way. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to show up looking put together, clean, and professional, but does wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit make me any better than the lawyer in the eight-hundred-dollar suit?”

“Even eight hundred bucks is way too much for a suit.”

She laughs. “It is.” Taking her hand off my thigh, she turns on the radio. It’s synced to my phone, and she flips through my playlist until “Defying Gravity” comes on.

“Maybe I should take this secret to my grave,” I start. “But I still know the words to this song.”

“You do?”

“Remember that weekend trip we took to Tennessee? You listened to this on repeat the entire time.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “Why did you let me?”

I shrug. “If I knew I was getting some, I was willing to do just about anything back then. We were, what, nineteen?”

“Yeah. It was so hard to get my parents to let me go down there with you. They didn’t think it was appropriate for me to be with you overnight.”

“How’d you convince them to let you come?”

“I pretty much admitted that we were already sleeping together at that point and it didn’t matter if we were alone over the weekend or just an hour.”

“Solid logic, actually.”

“Right? I never got why they cared so much about me being with you at night. And we’d gone through a whole year of college together.”

“We did have a lot of sex then.”

“We certainly did.” Her hand lands on my thigh again.

“We can have lots of sex again.”

“We can,” she says in a level tone. She’s not saying we’re going to go home and get started on that right away but is more stating it as a possibility. I grip the steering wheel and resist moving my legs so her fingers inch closer to my cock. Though if she actually does start jacking me off while I’m driving, there’s a good chance I’ll crash.

She keeps her hand on my thigh the rest of the ride home. We go in and she goes upstairs, carrying a bag of clothes she brought back with her from her parents’ house. I almost told her to bring all her stuff over, but I didn’t want to freak her out and make her think things were moving too soon.

She still intends to move into her own place next month. And she should, right? But she could also stay here with me. Starting a relationship over when there’s already so much history between us is tricky.

We’re not a new couple. We still get each other, even after all these years. Yet those years did happen and rushing back to where we were before just isn’t possible. Still, she’s in a unique situation and needs a place to live.

And I have that place.

I’m overthinking, which isn’t something I usually do. I’m a shoot first, aim later kind of person, and while some may say that’s reckless, it’s always steered me in the right direction.

And right now, I feel like having Charlie move in with me is admittedly a little impulsive, but will put us right where we’re meant to be: together.