With a smile, he cupped her face and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “On your time, Charlotte. Always.”
A FEW MINUTES later, Charlotte walked back to her house, carrying one of Mateo’s mugs filled with his own special blend of coffee that might as well have been crack, it was that good.
The sun had risen. Gorgeous but not anywhere close to warm. Snow clung stubbornly to the pine trees and the icy air burned her lungs. She didn’t care because it was still early, and Dr. Charlotte Marie Dixon was leaving a man’s house and she was smiling.
She felt amazing. Absolutely nothing had happened beyond breakfast, but it’d been the most intimate she’d been with a man in years.
When she stepped into her kitchen, she found Jane sitting at the table staring at a small flat box on the coffee table as if it was a coiled rattlesnake. She looked up at Charlotte with obvious relief. “Hey. Where were you? You were off shift an hour ago and your car’s here, but you vanished.”
Charlotte laughed. “Sucks, doesn’t it, the not knowing if someone’s okay?”
Jane grimaced in acknowledgment that she was guilty of not checking in as often as she should. “You’re the responsible one. You’re teaching me, remember? Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just come from Mateo’s house? From Mateo’s bed?” She eyed the mug in Charlotte’s hands, leapt to her feet, and gasped. “Oh my God, you did!” She hopped up to sit crisscross on the counter. “Tell all. Don’t leave a single thing out.”
“He cleared the snow for us, so I went over there to, um, thank him, and he made me breakfast.”
Jane stared at her. “Are you blushing?”
Charlotte clasped her hands to her cheeks. “No!”
“You are so!” She pointed at her. “He did more than make you breakfast.”
“If I’m blushing, it’s because he made me breakfast and didn’t expect anything more.” And she’d enjoyed herself so much more than she had in a very long time.
“Well, of course he didn’t expect anything from you. He’s Mateo,” Jane said, reminding Charlotte that Jane trusted Mateo, when Jane didn’t trust anyone.
Charlotte gave her a soft smile. “I’m starting to realize that.”
“Tell me the truth. You didn’t go over there to thank him for removing the snow.”
“No.” Charlotte laughed at herself. “I went over there to yell at him. I’d had a really bad night at work. I . . . lost someone. A young woman. Domestic violence.”
Jane let out a soft gasp and slid off the counter. “Oh no. Honey, I’m so sorry.” She pulled Charlotte in for one of those rare but magical hugs. “Are you okay?”
Charlotte held on tight. “Better now.”
“So . . .” Jane’s voice had a small smile in it. “You had a shit night, came home upset, found all your snow gone, and stormed over to yell at our sexy neighbor, and he defused you with his amazing food.”
Charlotte dropped her head to Jane’s shoulder. “Yes.”
Jane pulled back, keeping her hands on Charlotte’s arms, looking into her face. Jane didn’t touch people casually, so whenever she did touch Charlotte, it meant something. This morning, it warmed a part of her heart she hadn’t realized needed warming.
“I like it,” Jane said. “I like him for you.” She then turned back to the table to stare at the box some more.
“What’s that?” Charlotte asked.
“You tell me.”
“I have no idea.”