The Best Next Thing

That left Charity and Miles standing in the foyer of the hotel.

“Faith told me that you’ve arranged a room for us,” Charity said, her voice cold and curt. He tried not to be disheartened by all that ice and nodded.

“We’re in one of the cottages. It has two bedrooms. I wasn’t sure if you wanted your family to know about…about us. And I wasn’t sure how you would feel after what I did.”

She sighed heavily. “Let’s go. I need a long, hot shower. We’ll discuss this when we get to the cottage.”

Miles showered and changed for dinner, but he wondered if he should fry himself an egg—he could only get the self-catered cottage at such short notice—and give Charity and her family privacy to have their long overdue talk.

After he and Charity had reached the cottage, she had barely given the quaint abode a second glance, instead heading straight to her room…telling him that they would “talk later”. They shared a bathroom, and he had allowed her first dibs at the shower, before spending a torturous fifteen minutes in a steamy bathroom that smelled just like her.

Now, nearly half an hour after her promise to talk, he sat on the side of his massive bed and stared at the bedside clock, watching the minutes creep by, and wondering when later would be.

Fuck. This was ridiculous.

He picked up his phone to send Charity a text: I think I’ll stay in tonight.

Why?

Figured you all should have some privacy.

The staccato rap on his bedroom door startled him, and he frowned.

“Come.”

The door swung inward, and Charity stepped into his room, a wry smile on her lips.

“What’s funny?” he asked, perplexed by that unexpected grin.

“For nearly two years, whenever you ordered me, or anyone else, to ‘come’, I’d imagine you saying it in the exact same clipped way to your lovers.”

He couldn’t quite figure out what she meant and stared at her in bewilderment.

“Y’know,” she continued. “During your most intimate moments? Commanding them to come on cue.”

He felt his neck flush, and the tips of his ears heated up.

“I’m not going to lie…” she said. “I always thought it was a little hot.”

“Charity!” Miles knew he sounded like a scandalized old lady, but he couldn’t help it. To say he was shocked was an understatement. For some reason, because he hadn’t thought of her as a sexual being back then, he couldn’t imagine her—no…Mrs. Cole—harboring such raunchy thoughts about him. Despite logically knowing that all along, she had been this same stunning woman standing before.

And Christ, she looked spectacular right now. He didn’t think she could outdo the pretty pink of this afternoon, but tonight she looked empowered and sexy in a figure-hugging fire engine red dress that complemented her coloring marvelously. She wore the same vibrant shade on her lips. Her short hair had been slicked down, and she had done something to her eyes that made them smoky and seductive and mysterious all at the same time.

“I know right?” she laughed, in response to his outburst. “I tell you, I shocked even myself every time the thought crossed my mind. I deluded myself into thinking I’ve only recently started seeing you in a sexual light. But I’ve always found you attractive. I just wasn’t ready to cope with anything remotely erotic before now.”

“Are you still pissed off with me?” he asked hesitantly. She was in a strange mood. He couldn’t figure it out. Not nervous, though he had expected her to be, given the dinner she was about to have with her family. Not angry, despite what he had done. Not sad.

She seemed almost…ebullient.

“I’m not pissed off with you, Miles. Well…I was. I was furious. But I had a lovely day, and it’s hard to hold onto a good mad, when you’re having fun and so freaking happy to be surrounded by your loved ones.”

“That’s—”

“But,” she interrupted him, holding up an index finger to indicate that she was not yet done speaking. “What you did was so incredibly unacceptable and just because it worked out for the best, doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know.”

“Do you, though? Or was this a matter of thinking it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Because, if that’s the case, it’s inexcusable. This was my decision to make, in my own time. The reason I decided not to come to the party, was partly because, yes, I was being cowardly and delaying the inevitable…but mostly because I wanted to enjoy our extremely finite time together. It’s all we have.”

She plunged those words into his guts like a sharp knife, reminding him of his place in her life with a succinct twist. While simultaneously offering him hope that their finite time together was not yet over.

“I’m sorry. I’m used to deciding what’s best for everybody, and sometimes I stomp around like a bull in a china shop, without giving enough consideration to the harm I’m causing. I understand now that this situation required more delicate handling, but I just wanted to do something for you. Something useful. Worthwhile…something that you would perhaps value. And instead, I bollocksed it up. I’ll get you flowers next time.”