Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (14 page)

She stared into those green eyes and tried to resist kissing him again. What could she possibly blame it on, then? “It’s okay,” she said.
 

“No. It’s really not,” he said, and lowered his hand. He ran it through his hair and shook his head. “It’s just that I am really attracted to you and I haven’t been with …”

Lucy’s heart hammered as Charlie seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. She could imagine where his mind was going and she prayed he didn’t bring it up.
 

His lips fell into a frown as he squinted his eyes and raised his left hand in the air. With a puzzled look, he asked, “Why haven’t you asked me about this?”

She looked at his wedding ring, the lights bouncing from the silver band, and thought carefully. How could Lucy get this out? Her mouth fell open and she closed it without saying anything. She took a deep breath, readying herself to make him go away—forever, this time.
 

“That came out wrong. That wasn’t me accusing you of anything,” he added, interrupting her thoughts. “I know you’re not like that—I know you wouldn’t sleep with a married man, Lucy.”

Tears welled in her eyes, so much so that she had to look away. “Charlie …”

She heard him step forward and could feel his stare. “I lost my wife a year ago,” he told her quietly. “She died after she gave birth to our son.”

Her tears were really coming down now. She had stepped right back in time to that horrible day and she couldn’t find the words to tell him that she understood more than he even knew. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, not only for his loss, but for her secret. She was sorry for finding him at the park, for looking at his son as if he were a lifeline, and for so much more that she didn’t even know where to begin.
 

“That’s not what I’m looking for, here,” Charlie said with a sigh. “Lucy, I can’t talk to you like this. Could you please look at me?”

Lucy lifted her chin and met his eyes again. They were almost pleading with her to understand or even to help him make sense of it all. One simple look and, for the first time, she saw the struggle he felt every day of his life. It was all there, all the pain and confusion.
 

“I do like you, though,” he revealed quietly. “I can’t seem to get you out of my mind, actually.”

Her heart shattered. She could feel it breaking away, exploding with each honest word he spoke. “I like you, too,” she whispered, trembling.
 

He nodded slowly, the pain still lingering. “I’m just … broken. I really don’t have any other word for it.”

Lucy nodded and put her finger to her eye, keeping her last tear away.
 

Charlie slid onto a stool. He watched her, his gaze looking inside of her rather than outside. It was as if he could see every emotion she had—even the truth that she just couldn’t seem to say.
 

“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked.
 

“I don’t know. To be honest, I would like to tell you to go away.”

His eyes widened with something she couldn’t place … fear, maybe? If only he could understand. If she told him the truth right now she would never see him again. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it; that would open a wound they were both trying desperately to close.
 

“But, at the same time, I think that would be really difficult, too,” she added quickly. “So, I don’t know.”

“How about,” he said carefully, “we try to be friends?”

“Friends?”

He smiled and nodded. “Friends.”

Lucy took that in for a minute. She didn’t want him to go away, even though she knew it would be the best thing for both of them. She needed more time to find her bravery, and for him to find his.
 

“Friends,” she confirmed. “I can do that.”

He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. “Charlie Jameson Mathews,” he said with a gorgeous grin.
 

Her hand felt tiny in his strong, masculine one, and her insides began to melt. “Lucy Marina Dalton,” she said with a beam of her own.
 

“Lucy Marina Dalton,” he repeated. “Pretty.”

Chapter Seven

“Hello, hello?” Dylan Mathews’ voice traveled into the house as she stepped in from the garage. “Mom?”

In the living room, Charlie sat on his knees and kept one hand against Jackson’s chest. “Not yet,” he whispered into his son’s ear, and laughed when Jackson shook with giddiness. Even though he had no idea what they were, he loved secrets.
 

“Where’s that little bag I put on the suitcase?” Charlie heard Ben ask. “I put it on top so you would grab it.”

“I know what you had in it,” Dylan answered with a laugh. “I’m not bringing a bag full of slinky lingerie to my mother’s house.”

“But I like the slinky lingerie,” Ben said.

“I know you do, baby,” Dylan said, fake sympathy in her voice. “I think you can live without it for a week.”

“Is it too late to get a hotel?” Ben asked, pout evident in his voice.
 

Dylan sighed. “We can still have fun.”

“I’m listening,” Ben said, his voice a bit too turned on.
 

Dylan giggled and lowered her voice. “You can even start downstairs at night and then pretend to sneak up to my room. Then you can slip into bed with me and—”
 

“Brother in the room!” Charlie grimaced and decided to release his son just to make them stop. “Okay,” he said to Jackson, “go ahead.”

A red-faced Dylan and a grinning Ben came out of the laundry room and looked down as Jackson walked to them.
 

“Walking!” Dylan exclaimed, and scooped her nephew into her arms. “You’re such a big boy!”
 

“Hey,” Charlie said, and stood up. He walked over to his sister and soon-to-be brother in-law and pretended to hit Ben in the stomach. “Do you think you two could reel it in a little?”

Dylan leaned up and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “No,” she said, and squeezed Jackson.
 

“Just a little verbal foreplay,” Ben said with a smile, and jumped back as Charlie went to hit him for real.
 

Linda raced around the corner and practically jumped Dylan and Ben. “You made it!” she said, and wrapped her arms around Dylan’s neck, squishing Jackson in between them. She pulled away and grabbed Dylan’s face. “I love your hair like that!”

Dylan raked a hand through her wavy, light brown hair. “I didn’t have time to dry it this morning.”
 

“Hey, Mom Two,” Ben said, and pulled Linda into a tight hug.
 

Linda wrapped her arms around Ben’s waist and Charlie rolled his eyes as she seemed to inhale him. She pulled back and smiled. “Hi, Son Five.”

Charlie was positive that his mother loved Ben the most, even though he wasn’t her real son. From the moment that Ben had come to their door when he was only four years old, Linda had loved and protected him with a fierceness that only a mother could possess. Ben had been a constant in the Mathews home for most of their lives. When he left at night, however, he went back to a house where he was either blamed, neglected, or verbally abused by his parents.
 

Two years ago, when his mother had committed suicide, Linda stood by Ben as she had when he was younger, even after he had hurt Dylan. She simply drew no lines when it came to Ben. In the end, Ben and Dylan had found their way back to each other, and now everyone was ready to see them get married in three months. As much as they made Charlie want to gag, he knew that they were made for each other.
 

“How was your flight?” Linda asked. “Are you tired?”

Dylan shook her head and nuzzled Jackson’s neck. “We slept on the plane.”

“We? No.
She
slept on the plane,” Ben corrected, rubbing Jackson’s head. He leaned down to meet Jackson’s eyes and said, “It’s kind of hard to sleep with Aunt Dylan using Uncle Ben as a pillow.”

“I did not,” Dylan said with an eye roll.
 

“Baby, you were literally on top of me,” Ben said, and shook his head. “The flight attendants kept saying ‘aww’ every time they passed.”

“Well, I don’t remember you complaining,” Dylan snipped.
 

Ben’s face flashed with something only Dylan seemed to be able to read. “Who said I was complaining?”

“Okay, okay.” Dylan laughed as Jackson began to squirm out of her arms. She placed him on the floor and he waddled back to his pile of toys. He threw a car into a stuffed animal and then made a loud growling sound as he stomped on a toy dog.
 

“He’s all boy,” Dylan said, and shook her head.
 

“He’s a Mathews boy,” Ben said with a laugh.
 

“He’s been spending too much time with Brandon, Hugh, and Jonah,” Charlie corrected.
 

“Where are they?” Dylan asked, and sat down at the kitchen table. “Is Jonah really living with you now?”

“Kind of. He hasn’t moved in all the way,” Charlie answered, reluctantly. This was not a topic his mother wanted to discuss. “Brandon has to go back home for work, so he’s going to take Hugh and Jonah with him. Jonah still has to get his stuff and Hugh’s going to help him next week, I guess.”

Linda shook her head and sat down next to Dylan. “Let’s not go there today.”
 

Charlie and Ben both smirked and gave each other knowing looks. Since Jonah had been Ben’s best friend since they were four years old, Ben understood that Jonah was a wandering soul as well as Charlie did.
 

Deciding to put the Jonah talk aside for his mother’s sake, Charlie smacked Ben on the arm. “You’re only here for two days, right?”

“He’s leaving on Monday,” Dylan said with a sigh. “Work, work, work.”

Ben walked over and placed a small kiss on top of Dylan’s head. “I’ll be back in a week,” he said.
 

Ben was in his last year of law school at Harvard, but he had also earned an internship in one of the country’s top firms. With a hefty trust fund, he didn’t need the money; he simply enjoyed the fight that went along with being an attorney. It was also no secret that he wanted to prove, not only to himself, but to the world around him, that he could do it on his own. He had done it all without help from his late father, a powerful Supreme Court judge.

“Why’d you even come in, then?” Charlie asked Ben.
 

Ben shrugged. “Your sister needed a pillow on the plane,” he said as if that were the dumbest question ever, and winked at Dylan when she touched his hand.
 

Linda smiled at their exchange. “You’ll be busy with the benefit planning, anyway, Dylan.”

Dylan blew out another breath. “I know.”
 

Shamelessly, Ben crouched down in front of Dylan. He looked up at her with the same adoration that Charlie had felt for Meredith, which sent a pang through Charlie’s lonely heart. Ben pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You also have a wedding to plan, Mrs. McKenna.”

Dylan crinkled her nose and leaned into him. “
We
have a wedding to plan, Mr. McKenna.”

A mischievous glint appeared in Ben’s eyes. “I’m more worried about the honeymoon.”

“Give it a rest,” Charlie groaned.
 

“Was the Institute of Art okay with you taking a semester off from teaching?” Linda asked Dylan.
 

Dylan nodded and rubbed the nape of Ben’s neck. “Lorenz just wanted to make sure I’d be back in the fall. He understands how important the benefit is.”
 

“Did you tell them about the gallery?” Ben asked Dylan.
 

Dylan shook her head. “I’m doing another gallery in New York next year.” She frowned, and added, “I just have to find the time to add more pieces to my collection.”

“She’s been painting at night,” Ben said. “Tell them about the piece you did of Meredith.”

Dylan smiled at Ben, who never seemed to hold back from showing the room that he was her biggest fan. “I’m not done with it.”

“You’re going to like it, Charlie,” Ben said without tearing his gaze from Dylan. “It’s great. The whole benefit and everything … it’s just perfect.”

The room quieted as it always did whenever Meredith’s name was brought up. Although it hurt, Charlie would never want anyone to stop. Each time she was mentioned, it seemed her presence swirled around them. He would never—
could
never—want that to go away.
 

“Thank you for doing this, Dylan,” Charlie said, his voice slicing through the silence. “She really would’ve loved it.”

Dylan’s watery eyes met Charlie’s. From the moment she had begun planning the benefit, he hadn’t said that to her and he knew he was an ass for it. They shared a meaningful look that spoke of nothing but appreciation and, more importantly, forgiveness.
 

“Oh! I want to have a little birthday party for Jack while you’re all in town,” Linda said. “You missed it last month.”