The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)
He lifted his lips from hers and stared down into her eyes, a tender smile gracing his mouth.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He released her and took a reluctant step back, putting some space between them. “Where are these platters you need me to haul?”
“Uh…you grab those two,” she said, pointing to the two on the reception desk, and lifting the third that he had taken from her earlier.
“What’s happening with the clean up?” His gaze travelled around the room. There were champagne flutes and paper plates adorning various surfaces. Confetti and streamers on the floor. A few helium balloons drooping in the corners.
“I have a professional cleaning service coming in tomorrow morning. One of Daff’s connections, they’re doing us a huge favor coming in on a Sunday. But the place has to be shipshape by start of business on Monday.”
“You must be terribly excited.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling boyishly at the corners, and she caught her breath at the welcome sight of that familiar dimple.
“Right now, I’m more excited about seeing you,” she told him honestly. His smiled faded, and she mourned its loss. Not sure why her words had made it disappear.
“Let’s get out of here.” He was so somber, and it scared her. Miles was a naturally reserved man, but a lot of his reticence had melted around her during their time together. She wanted that relaxed, happy man back.
She followed him mutely to the door, her movements stiff and mechanical as she juggled her purse and the tray to lock up behind them.
George was waiting for them outside. It was a lovely summer’s night and, despite the late hour, there was still a fair number of people out and about. George grinned when he caught sight of Charity and Miles. He looked insufferably self-satisfied.
“Nice surprise, right?” he crowed, his rugged brown face beaming beneath the streetlamp. “I had you fooled, hey? You didn’t have a clue what we were up to.”
“Nobody likes a gloater, George.” Charity chastised, but there was only warmth in her voice, and George chuckled.
“I following orders. Miles wanted it to be a secret.”
“Miles?” Charity mouthed at the silent man hovering beside her, and Miles rolled his eyes with a short shake of his head.
“He and my mother have spoken every day since she left,” he explained beneath his breath while George loaded the platters in the back of the SUV. “I can’t very well expect my mother’s long-distance boyfriend to call me Mr. Hollingsworth.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I don’t know what else to call him. They’re—”
“I’ll take this one, Mrs. Cole,” George interrupted their hushed exchanged cheerfully, returning for the tray in Charity’s hands. She had asked him time and again to call her Charity, but for some reason, he always slipped back into the habit of calling her Mrs. Cole. It was funny that he found it easier to call Miles by his given name than he did Charity.
Miles lightly grasped her elbow. His warm hand on her naked skin sent goosebumps skidding up her spine. She had missed his touch. Thirsted for it. When he released his hold on her seconds after she had settled in the back seat, she disguised her disappointed groan behind a cough.
He rounded the back of the vehicle and climbed in next to her, but remained on his side of the long bench seat. There was a yawning chasm between them…and Charity was tempted to bridge the gap by scooting across the seat and snuggling against him.
She was on the verge of unbuckling her seatbelt and doing just that, when he dumped his briefcase between them. Leaving her with not only a chasm to cross but a mountain to climb.
In the end it was simpler to stay on her side of the car.
George was humming beneath his breath and seemed oblivious to the simmering tension in the back seat.
They sat in silence for the entirety of the drive. Charity wasn’t sure what to say. Now that he was here, she found herself uncertain, overwhelmed, nervous, and excited all at the same time.
She toyed with her phone, needing something to occupy her restless hands, and sent Faith a quick message. Her sister’s almost instant reply made her grin.
OMG! Duck! I mean DUCK! That’s so DUCKING fantastic! HAVE FUN!! Call me first thing in the morning!
She sent a second message to her mother to let her know where she was.
Her mother responded with a comical open-mouthed emoji, followed by:
Let us know how it goes. We love you, angel, and we want you to be happy.
After learning about Blaine’s abuse, her parents had been understandably mistrustful of the men Charity had dated since her return from Riversend. But they had also understood that Charity had had years longer than them to deal with everything. And she was ready to trust again.