Charlotte took this in. Jane was . . . blushing a little. And not making eye contact. Fascinating. “You going to do it?”
“He brought me my locket back.”
Charlotte felt a smile crease her face. “You’re going to do it.”
“I don’t know. Wait— How do you know I sat by his bedside? You were in surgery.”
“Someone told me.”
Jane stared at her. “Dammit. Now I’m going to have to kill Mateo.”
Mateo. The only man who could make her feel like she didn’t know what she was doing. At any given moment of any day, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to wrap her fingers around his neck and squeeze or climb him like a tree. Not that she would admit either under threat of death. Nope. Her ridiculous little crush on the man who was sexier than the legal limit was going to stay her own personal secret. For a whole bunch of reasons, not that she could name one at the moment.
“I knew it!” Jane pointed at her. “See, you don’t want him dead.”
“Well, I never said I wanted him dead, did I? I said I wanted him to stop flirting with me.” A total lie.
“Admit it,” Jane said. “You have no idea how to deal with a good man trying to get your attention. I mean, you’re not quite as screwed up as I am, but you’re close enough.”
True story. Charlotte’d had a good childhood, but she’d also had her share of trauma, which had left her just as awkward and uneasy at romantic entanglements as Jane.
“He wants to go out with you.”
Charlotte ignored the butterflies in her belly at that thought and shook her head. “He’s a flirt. That’s what he does. He flirts with everyone.”
“Wrong,” Jane said. “Mateo’s one of the rare good ones. Yeah, he’s nice to everyone on the floor, from surgeons to nurses to the cleaning crews. But there’s only one person he flirts with, stares at, moons over, brings coffee to. And that’s you. And—Ohmigod.”
“What?”
Jane squeaked and ducked low, beneath the table.
Charlotte stuck her head under the table. “You drop something?”
“Yes, my marbles! I think my grandpa saw me— Oh my God, don’t look!”
But Charlotte was already looking, feeling her heart harden on the spot. “I want to see the man who deserted you when you were eight.”
“He didn’t desert me.”
“Bullshit,” Charlotte said.
“He wasn’t well.”
“And you were eight.”
“Yeah,” Jane muttered. “Hence me being under the table like I’m still eight.”
Charlotte stuck her head under the table, softening when she saw Jane’s genuine panic. “Honey, what have I always told you?”
“Um . . . Men suck?”
“Okay, and what else?”
“Always make the time for lip gloss because we’re not animals.”
“Aw! You were listening.” Charlotte felt so proud. “And . . . ?”
“And . . . family is earned, not inherited.”
Charlotte nodded. “So you have to decide. Are you ready to go there? Open up some old wounds?”
The look on Jane’s face said she was undecided.
Fair, given what she’d been through. “Whatever you decide,” Charlotte said softly, “you know you have people who love and support you.”
Jane hesitated, then nodded. “I’m still getting used to that. I let you barge in past all my walls.”
Accurate.
“And Mateo too,” Jane said. “And now maybe Levi? It feels like too much. It’s like . . . the quintessential nightmare of going to school naked. I’m out there hanging out in the breeze, vulnerable, just waiting for someone to say it’s time for me to move on.”
“I’ll never say that,” Charlotte said fiercely. “And you know that no matter what happens with your grandpa—or doesn’t happen—you’re going to be okay because . . . why?”
Jane gave a reluctant smile. “Because I’ve got you at my back.”
“Aw. You’ve grown up so fast—” Charlotte caught a glimpse of the tall man in scrubs who strode into the diner. She gave an unladylike squeak and slid all the way out of her chair and under the table too.
Jane stared at her. “What the—”
“Mateo’s here,” Charlotte hissed.
Jane blinked. “And?”
“And this is not a drill! Congratulations, you’ve taught me how to be ridiculous. Hope you’re proud. Now scoot the hell over and make some room!”
Jane snorted, but scooted, just as Mateo spoke from above them. “Morning, ladies. Did you drop something?”
Jane smirked at Charlotte.
“Don’t you dare leave—” But she was talking to air because Jane was gone as if she had the hounds of hell on her heels.
Not Charlotte. It wasn’t the hounds of hell chasing her. It was her past.
Which felt just as scary.
Chapter 8
Levi woke up to the unmistakable sound of paws scrambling in his direction, but he didn’t move or open his eyes, hoping he was invisible. Not likely though, as he was on the pullout couch in the Cutler family den slash office.
Which was how a very hot, wet tongue was able to lick him from chin to forehead.
“Thanks, Jasper,” he murmured.
Apparently encouraged by the greeting, his mom’s goldendoodle slash Wookiee leapt on top of him, wiggling all ninety pounds with the grace of a bull in a china shop, breathing his doggy breath all over him.
Levi managed to hug the silly, lovable dog while protecting his favorite body parts, not an easy task with Jasper’s four massive paws. “Good boy, but time to get down.”
Jasper lay down—on top of Levi.
He had to laugh. Who’d have thought he’d actually miss his childhood bedroom? But after Tess and Peyton had moved back in for the duration of her ugly divorce, his room had been turned into a proud princess palace. They’d offered to move out for his stay, but he’d refused, saying the couch was fine.
Not that it mattered where he slept in this house, because he’d always felt just a little misplaced in it. The square peg shoved in a round hole. For one thing, he’d been an oops baby to his parents, who’d thought they were done after having Tess nearly ten years earlier.
The three of them had been a tight unit by the time he’d come around. Levi had done his best to fit in. He’d been a good skier and probably could’ve gone somewhere with it, but even though he’d gone to the University of Colorado, where he could have skied competitively, he’d concentrated on getting his data science degree instead. Which of course had baffled his parents beyond belief. As far as they were concerned, he’d taken his athletic talent and walked.
Looking back, Levi understood their point of view, but he also knew they’d never understood his. He’d worked at the family store growing up, putting in his time, even if he’d always had his nose in a book or been on the computer creating software and apps, and then later working in tech before, during, and after college to support himself.
More than Levi being good, he’d been lucky, making the right connections, and now his start-up, Cutler Analytics, was thriving. Yes, he missed the mountain. Actually he missed the mountain a whole bunch, but hadn’t missed feeling like that square peg again.