Any one of them may have ended like a fantasy.
36
Cole spent the rest of the rehearsal kicking himself.
Never mind that he’d been wanting to ask her that question for days.
He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d dipped back into the box of letters and found one from when Charlotte and Jules were in ninth grade. In it, Charlotte recapped Julianna’s first kiss, peppering her with questions about what it was like What did it feel like? and How did you know what you were doing? and Was it slobbery?
He could only assume this was in response to whatever Julianna had shared in her previous letter.
And it was sweet and innocent, but if he hadn’t already been wondering about her dating history, he certainly was now.
Because Charlotte Page had the kind of lips that needed to be kissed. Full and soft and the perfect shade of pink.
She made him think, for the first time since Gemma, that maybe it would be worth it to try again.
They finished the rehearsal and Charlotte gave him a polite smile. He’d turned the air awkward between them, and he was desperate to change that.
“You hungry?” The words were out before he could properly consider them. She looked as startled by them as he was.
“Kind of,” she said.
“I’m guessing you’ve never been to a fair,” he said.
She frowned, but a smile played at the corners of her lips. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a hunch.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been to a fair.” She turned off the Bluetooth speaker and faced him. “Why?”
He shrugged. “They have corndogs and funnel cakes.”
She laughed. “Two things I cannot imagine myself eating.”
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” He was trying to keep the tone light, but he feared he was failing. He didn’t do “light.” Heck, he didn’t even do “friendly.”
Apparently, he did do “forward” and, he feared, “creepy.”
“Nobody told me there was a fair in town,” Charlotte said.
“Just outside of town,” he said. “Small towns love their fairs and festivals. Pretty much one every weekend in the summer somewhere around here.” He watched her. “Wanna go?”
“Sure,” she said quickly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiled.
Why did he feel like he’d just won the lottery?
And why did something like a warning bell ring out at the back of his mind?
Time with Charlotte was dangerous, but he wouldn’t do anything to risk his heart. Not again. He’d just take her out for fair food and make sure she had a good time.
Something she would’ve written about to Julianna if it had happened before his sister died.
Not a date. Just two friends hanging out.
Never mind that he couldn’t get her vanilla scent out of his mind or that he was resisting the urge to put a hand on the small of her back and lead her out to his truck, as if she needed guiding. As if she were his to guide.
“Well, I guess I can cross ‘going to the fair’ off my bucket list,” she said.
“Along with ‘eat a cinnamon roll,’” he added, opening the passenger side door to the truck. “And get flowers from a good-looking man.”
Her smile dazzled. Wow, she was pretty.
“And also ‘take a hopeless cause and teach him to dance.’” She pulled herself up into the truck and he closed the door, unable to keep from smiling at her flirtation.
Maybe it was dangerous. Maybe all this could ever be was him taking a girl to the fair for her very first funnel cake.
Or maybe this time it would be different. More like Julianna and Connor and not at all like he and Gemma.
Was it too much to hope for?
He didn’t know, but as he started the engine, he realized a very real part of him wanted to find out. He wanted to test the waters, to take a chance.
And while that excited him a little, mostly it scared him to death.
37
Charlotte and Cole maneuvered through the crowd of people, the smell of popcorn and something fried permeating the air. Twice she’d nearly been knocked over—once by a woman carrying not one, but two children (easily forgiven) and once by a guy on his phone who didn’t even say he was sorry (not so easily forgiven).
“You okay?” Cole said after the second one nearly landed her in the dirt.
She nodded.
“I’m afraid the fair isn’t making a good first impression.” He held his hand out to her, and she stared at it like it was a foreign object.
“My crowd survival skills are excellent,” he said.
Slowly, she slipped her hand in his. It was an altogether different experience than when her most recent dance partner, Jameson, took her hands. First of all, Jameson got regular manicures, so his skin was smoother than hers. Second of all, holding on to Jameson had never once elicited the kind of spark that her skin on Cole’s had.
“Why did you ask if anyone had ever kissed me?” The words were out before she could consider the ramifications of asking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that.”
He glanced over at her as he led her through the crowd. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said.
They cut through the throng of people and he stopped. “I was curious, I guess.”
“Are you still?”
“Curious?” He eyed her. “Yeah.”
She swallowed, then licked her lips, a horrifying reflex and the result of thinking about the fact that she most certainly had never been kissed.
Did that make her pathetic?
She looked up and realized they were in a line. “Have we reached our destination?”
He followed her eyes to a small white trailer that advertised an assortment of delicious snacks, all of which were certainly not on her diet.
“We have,” he said.
They seemed to realize he was still holding her hand at the same moment, and he quickly dropped it as if he’d done something wrong.
“You know I can’t eat here,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah.” He brushed her off.
“I’m serious,” she said with a smile. “It would only take a few bad meals to undo years of discipline.”
He dropped her hand and leveled her gaze. “Who told you that?”
She looked away. Marcia. Always Marcia.
“Someone filled your head with a lot of nonsense,” he said. “You’re at the fair for the first time ever. You’re going to eat fair food.”
The sound of a live band rang out in the warm night as fireflies danced on the breeze. She followed the sound to a large white tent, dimly lit inside with tables around the perimeter and a dance floor in the center.
“Have you ever done that?” She motioned to the tent with a nod.
“Sure,” he said. “They have good bands in there.”
“But the dancing,” she said. “Have you ever done that?”
They moved forward in line. “Uh, no. I haven’t.”
She eyed him for a long, amusing moment.
“What?”