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Authors: Rachel Harris

BOOK: You're Still the One
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Chapter Seventeen

Okay
didn’t describe Charlie the following night as he paced his side of the duplex. Twitchy, frustrated, and climbing out of his skin were more like it. Any minute that guy Evan would show up for his date with Arabella, a date Charlie had all but forced her to go on. If an award existed for world’s biggest idiot, that trophy would be his.

The sound of a closing door hurtled Charlie toward the window. Evan was in another pair of pressed khakis, this time with a button-down. Did the guy even own jeans? Arabella was searching for excitement and adventure. Dressed the way this guy was, the only adventure she had in store involved polo matches and watching the freaking opera.


…Incredible.”

The stupid walls muffled Evan’s voice, but one word rang clear. Charlie swallowed hard, steeling himself for seeing Arabella walk out her front door, dressed to impress if Sherry had anything to do with it. But he shouldn’t have bothered. All the swallowing and steeling in the world couldn’t have prepared him for when she met Evan outside.

Arabella was in a new dress, one he hadn’t seen before, a teal-green color that seemed to shine in the moonlight. Her arms were bare, a diamond pendant glittered within the deep
V
of her cleavage, and the flirty skirt of her dress hit just above the knee, revealing long, tan legs. Her slender neck was exposed with her dark hair piled on her head, and Charlie’s mouth watered remembering how silky her nape felt against his lips.

No, Arabella didn’t look
incredible
…she looked breathtaking.

And she was leaving with another man.

As he watched, Arabella slipped her arm through Evan-the-waiter’s and followed him toward the parked car,
away
from Charlie. Standing there like a chump, unable to stop her, was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Evan opened her door and helped her in, then jogged around the front to his side, eager to leave. Why wouldn’t he be? He had quite possibly the world’s most perfect woman seated beside him.

Where was he taking her? Did he know what made her laugh? Did he plan to bring her back to his place for a late-night drink?

A burning sensation rippled at Charlie’s spine, and his vision ran red.

Yeah. That wasn’t a healthy train of thought. But the images and questions didn’t stop. For hours they came, long after the couple sped away. This was his fault, Charlie had allowed this to happen, and now, he was paying the price.

Knowing that Arabella would have fun and go on dates while he was hundreds of miles away on tour was one thing; having it happen on his watch was entirely something else.

Charlie’s skin crawled at the idea of Evan touching her. Imagining him disappear through Arabella’s door and then hearing the faint sounds of her pleasure seep through the thin walls had him going insane.
Fuck
that
. Earplugs didn’t exist that could drown out the sound and keep Charlie from charging over, tearing the man off her.

A few hours later, pacing had led to quiet seething. Not at her but at himself. When another car door slammed, Charlie rushed to the window, his erratic breaths steaming up the glass. Arabella’s hair remained a perfect pile on top of her head, which either meant Evan was a piss-poor lover, or they hadn’t stopped at his place. In a pinch, Charlie would accept the first, but he was betting hard on the latter.
Thank Christ.

At her door, Evan leaned in, pressing close to Arabella’s body with a small smile, telegraphing his interest in a good-night kiss. Charlie’s knuckles cracked one by one. Evan ducked his head and she tilted her chin up…and it took everything Charlie had not to fling open the door and toss his khaki ass in the dirt.

He was a fucked-up masochist watching this shit.

But at the last second, Arabella turned and Evan’s lips brushed across her cheek, and a roar of possession tore through him. Charlie knew firsthand she was a passionate firecracker. When it came to kissing, Arabella wasn’t shy—not when she was interested.

The frantic need to claim her surged through him, burning away every reason he’d had to keep his distance. She was
his
, dammit. He was done fighting. Whatever Arabella was willing to give him for the time they had left, he was happy to take.

Through white-knuckled patience, Charlie waited as Evan said good-bye and then drove away, looking disappointed. The second the car disappeared down the street, he was out his door and banging on Arabella’s.

“Did you forget…?”

Doe eyes widened as she pushed open the door, but Charlie didn’t give her a chance to speak. He just kept right on walking, leading her back inside until his hands were buried in her hair, messing up the perfect strands, and his lips were on hers. Back where they belonged.

“Oh!” Clinging to his wrists she opened her mouth, matching his intensity kiss for kiss, moan for moan, and nibble for nibble. Charlie kicked the door closed and strode until her back hit the sofa. When it did, he bent and scooped her up, seating her on top of the frame and wrapping her legs around his waist.

“What…?” Arabella’s head fell back as he feasted on the skin of her throat. “What are we doing? Did you…did you change your mind?”

He paused long enough to catch a breath. “No.” He licked his lips, tasting her on them, and squeezed her hip. “We can’t be together the way you want. The way you deserve. You’re young, baby, and you’re headed back to Nashville. I’ll be on tour, and the timing sucks.” She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, and his knees went weak. “But I can’t fight this anymore. I want you too bad. You’re all I think about anymore.”

Arabella’s chest rose with a breath, and her hungry eyes tracked his. “Tucker, I’m not asking for a ring.”

The words froze him in place. For a second, he thought she was pulling a Stacy/Sarah. He’d gladly give Arabella anything she wanted, for as long as they had together, but it would kill him to hear her say she only wanted him for his body or his image or his name.

She was different from the others. She meant more.

“All I need is
you
,” she told him, and relief rushed his blood. “I feel alive when I’m in your arms. I’ve never felt this way before. Even if it’s only for a night, I want to come undone under your mouth.” A smile of wonder curved her kiss-swollen lips, and something loosened deep inside him. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear. “Then take me, sweet girl.”

Arabella’s eyes glowed warm with excitement and then, she attacked him.


Gloriously sated. That’s how every muscle in Arabella’s body felt as she stretched beside Charlie, naked as the day she was born. After the Fourth of July, she’d known he was an incredible kisser, but there wasn’t a word in existence to describe what that man could do between the sheets.

Lying here, his mouth nibbling her neck as they enjoyed the afterglow, Ella felt like she was in some sort of dream, one she never wanted to wake from. Had she known that making love could be like this, she would’ve added it to her top-ten list. But then, she doubted it was always this way. This was the result of their amazing connection.

Charlie made her feel cherished. Their lovemaking had burned her mattress, but it had also been passionate. Playful. Spine-tinglingly romantic. Now that she’d gotten a taste of how it could be between them, her heart was bursting with whatever sentiment came
after
love. Adoration, respect, appreciation, they all applied. He’d been so gentle, as if she were made of fine china, and seeing the rough-and-tumble bad boy gaze at her with such affection had her throat clogged.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Charlie swept her hair aside and pressed his lips to her neck. It seemed to be his favorite spot. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“God, no.” She tilted his chin up with her fingers and smiled softly. “I’m perfect.
It
was perfect.”

He closed his eyes before inhaling and scooting up to cradle her in his arms. “It was.” The thick knot in his throat bobbed, and Ella laid her head on his chest, the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat confirming what he couldn’t.

Ghosts had been in his eyes when he’d shown up at her door, listing all the reasons why they couldn’t be together, yet telling her he couldn’t stay away. She had tried to reassure him as best she could—she wasn’t pushing for more than he could give—but those same ghosts were back, clouding his eyes as his fingers skimmed her back.

“What are you afraid of?” she whispered, wondering if he would tell her. His chest rose and fell beneath her, and he pressed a kiss against her hair.

“Hurting you,” he admitted. “You haven’t seen the world from this side of the business. It’ll eat you alive if you let it. A news day is twenty-four hours long, and people are out for blood to fill it. When they can’t find any dirt, they invent it.”

There was a sharp edge to his voice, and she knew he was referencing his most recent scandal. Curiosity ate at her. Maddie Clark wasn’t a close friend, but she’d met the young woman at several Nashville functions and, when the story broke, Ella hadn’t believed the tabloid version one bit.

“What really happened with the mayor’s daughter?”

Charlie sighed, long and regretful. “We’d actually met to discuss Life & Lyrics. A mutual friend had hooked us up, knowing about my plans for the foundation and Maddie’s heart for the cause.”

He hesitated for a second. “Maddie has…experience with depression. It’s a cause both she and the mayor champion, so our friend thought she’d be the perfect person to help get the foundation underway. Maybe solicit donations. As you know, I’m great with ideas, but shit with execution, and that afternoon Maddie agreed to help with funding and organization—as long as her name stayed out of the papers. That wasn’t her stipulation, but the mayor’s office was adamant about her not being linked in fear of their personal story coming out. As protective as I am about Abby, I completely understood.”

Arabella shifted up onto her elbow. “So the two of you met to discuss Life & Lyrics, and what? Your hand accidently found its way up her skirt?”

She gave a small smile to show she was teasing, but she was honestly confused. She hadn’t believed the published story, but his version clearly left out a vital detail. Most business meetings she’d attended didn’t end with a friendly grope.

Charlie rolled his head against the pillow. “I have the worst luck in the world. Seriously, ask Tyler, it’s a proven fact.” He sighed. “Maddie and I had finished lunch and I offered to walk her to her car. She was by herself and parked a few blocks away, so I was trying to be a gentleman. Do the right thing. You see where that gets me.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “We were half a block away when I spotted the first camera, but by that point it was too late. We picked up our speed and ignored him, figuring the fallout couldn’t be that bad. What could they print, a story about two acquaintances sharing a meal? No one had heard about Life & Lyrics yet, and without a scandalous picture, whatever random story they cooked up would die within a week.”

Arabella nodded her agreement. She’d seen enough to know photos were the money shot, and while two people talking might lead to a few rumors, especially considering who the two of them were, interest would’ve faded soon enough. Especially if they hadn’t given them anything new to work with.

The problem was that they had…the ultimate money shot.

“It was a warm day,” Charlie said, resuming the slow tracing of her spine. “But being near the river, there was a breeze. Not too much, but enough that you knew it was there. I didn’t think anything of it until it picked up out of nowhere. Walking where we were, on a side street between buildings, it created a tunnel. Growing up with five sisters, I knew what could happen in that situation and I dove on instinct, trying to help Maddie hold down her dress before the photogs got their pictures. I was a half a second too late. Her dress was already up…and instead of an embarrassing photo of her underwear, they got one of me with my hand on her ass.”

Ella winced, envisioning the scenario he was describing play out. It was mortifying. But still, something didn’t add up. “But the pictures—”

“Made it look like we were making out,” Charlie cut in with a scowl. “Yeah, I know. It was the camera angle. That or some sort of voodoo magic in Photoshop, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I’ve never kissed Maddie Clark, and I don’t plan on it, either. She’s a nice enough girl, I guess. But she’s not…” He hesitated and his hazel eyes flicked to hers. “She’s not you.”

Outside it was raining. The gentle patter of raindrops hitting the window filled the silence after his confession. Arabella wanted to ask what it meant. Charlie had told her, repeatedly, that they couldn’t be together, but then he went and said heart-melting things like that. Obviously, he wanted her in
some
way, he was in her bed, after all, and the way his eyes traced her face made her believe he felt something for her.

So, where did that leave them?

“Touring makes relationships impossible,” he said, clearly reading her thoughts. “I’ve been there once, in the beginning,
before
things got crazy. Now a tour for us involves crossing the country and hopping the pond. Distance like that can make a solid relationship crumble, but one just starting out?” He shook his head. “Phone calls and video chats aren’t enough. I won’t do that to you, Arabella. Hell, I don’t know if I even have it in me.”

Ella fought to maintain her expression, pretending that his words didn’t hurt. Charlie was the most caring, sensitive man she’d ever met, despite the rough exterior. Either he didn’t realize that, or he didn’t want her enough to try, and she’d vowed she wouldn’t push. He cared for her, in his own way, and it was already more than she’d expected.

That would have to be enough for her.

If a few weeks was all Charlie could offer, she wanted it—wanted
him—
for as long as she was here. She was a big girl and there was no shame in temporarily enjoying each other. Lana did it all the time.

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