One Golden Summer(61)

“I don’t think you’re a self-centered ass.”

“That’s one of your flaws,” Charlie says. “But the fact that you have integrity isn’t.”

“I’ve done some work I’m not proud of because there’s a paycheck attached to it,” I tell him.

“You have no idea how much I relate.”

“Do you like your job?”

“Most of the time, not particularly.”

“Why do you stay if you don’t enjoy it?” I ask. “Trading must be extraordinarily stressful.”

Charlie’s gaze is as direct as his answer. “I like the money, Alice. I like it a lot.”

“Is that enough?”

“Sometimes. We never had much growing up. I can remember my parents at the kitchen table, sorting through the bills, so stressed. It seemed unfair since they worked so hard. They always figured it out, but I didn’t want that for myself. I didn’t want to be devastated by a car repair.” He leans across the table. “I’m very good at what I do, and I love being good.”

I digest this. “You’ve never really explained why you’re taking a sabbatical.”

There’s a moment of deliberation before he answers. “I needed a break.”

“How come?”

He stares at me across the table, and I can see a debate waging in his eyes.

“It’s just me,” I say, repeating his words back to him. “You can talk to me.”

His focus drops to the portrait he’s drawn, and he runs a finger over the squiggles of my hair. I’m not sure he realizes he’s doing it.

When Charlie meets my eyes, his gaze is discernibly sharper, like he’s locked onto something. “I bet you’d do anything for your friends.”

“I’d do anything for the people who matter to me.” I think he would, too.

His voice is slow, serious. “Do I matter to you?”

“Of course.” I don’t have to think about my answer. Charlie matters to me in a way that would have seemed impossible weeks ago. But the look on his face makes me question whether that’s what he wanted to hear. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he says quietly. “I’m a lucky man.” He sounds genuinely touched. “Earlier today, you said you didn’t understand why I wanted to do your bucket list with you.”

“I remember,” I say softly.

“When I was young, I took shifts at the restaurant almost every evening in the summer. I didn’t mind too much, because I liked the paycheck, and the place was my second home. Working in a kitchen is grueling, but there’s a rhythm and a rush that’s hard to find anywhere else. But I envied the cottagers having a barbecue on the deck or waterskiing just before the sun sets, when the lake is glass. Percy’s family used to do puzzles and watch movies together at night.” He smiles, but it’s bittersweet. He looks away for a moment before turning back to me. “This time with you and Nan is exactly what I imagined it would have been like for a regular family. You’ve given me the summer I’ve always wanted.”

My throat tightens. “Me too. You’ve given me what I wanted, too.”

“Boat rides and smutty books?”

“Fun,” I tell him. “That’s what I was missing. Until I met you.”

“That’s one thing I’m good for,” he says with a smirk.

Charlie may be able to read me, but I see him, too. I can tell the difference between when he’s flirting because he wants to play, and when he’s trying to keep his heart tucked somewhere safe. His gaze follows me as I stand and walk around the table to him. He pushes his chair back so I can stand between his legs.

“You are fun,” I say, setting my hands on his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. He’s one of those flame-like people whom we all gravitate toward like moths, soaking in their warmth. “I haven’t felt this comfortable with someone in a very long time. I haven’t laughed this much since I don’t know when. I can speak my mind without being afraid you’ll judge me. It’s so freeing. So, yes, you’re fun. That’s a gift, Charlie.”

He looks up at me with something like affection. “I’ll come to your show.”

“What?”

“If you decide to do it, I’ll be there.” He holds my gaze.

I imagine a pair of clear green eyes in a sea of blurry faces. “If I decide to do it, I’ll look at you when I give my speech. I’ll picture you naked.”

He grins. “You haven’t seen me naked.” His hands find my rib cage and run up and down my sides.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t picture it.”

He pinches my butt. I swat him on the arm, but he has the reflexes of a big cat, capturing my hand and bringing it to his mouth. He sucks on the sensitive pulse point on the inside of my wrist while his other hand sneaks under my caftan and up my thigh. Higher. His fingers pause when they reach the bottom of my bathing suit top. He gazes at me, his lips still pressed to my wrist.

“Ready for second base?”

I pull my caftan over my head. “I’m ready for a home run, bases loaded.”

Charlie chuckles, but his gaze has gone dark. “Trouble, and no.”

I give him a look of exasperation.