Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (20 page)

When the sensations had almost finished rolling through her, Charlie pulled his hand from her panties, and pressed his lips to her forehead.
 

She lowered her face to his chest and tried to control her breathing. She was very aware of how wrong she was for allowing that to happen.
Oh, no, no, no, no
ran through her head as the fog of lust lifted.
 

She was a terrible person.
 

She couldn’t look at him, especially when he was running his fingers through her hair in such a gentle way. He didn’t deserve this—this lie that she was living. He was one of the most tender and wonderful men she had ever encountered and she was a horrible person for allowing him to believe that she was good.
 

She let out an involuntary sob into his chest. Her body shook with each tear that dripped from her eyes.
 

“Lucy?” he asked so sweetly it nearly killed her. “Are you …”

“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she said into his chest, her voice muffled.
 

“What? Look at me,” he said, his voice panicked. He moved his hands to her wet cheeks and pulled her face up to meet his eyes. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, Charlie,” she said between sniffles. “You’re perfect, and sweet, and everything else.”

He let out the breath he had been holding and pushed the hair from her face. “Then what is it?”

“I’m just so … ugh … so confused,” she said, and wiped the tears from her eyes.
 

Charlie let out a small groan and shook his head. “This is my fault. I know. I said I wasn’t ready and then I do this.”

“No, no. I don’t think that, Charlie,” she said. She stopped and squinted, a thought taking over. “I should be wondering about that, but that’s not it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
 

“Stop being sorry. I practically begged you for this. Oh my God.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His lips found hers once more, but this time it was a gentle kiss—a kiss just as beautiful as the first.
 

“You don’t understand.” She shook her head and tried to clear her mind once more. Really, he was killing her with the perfect kisses. “I have to tell you—”

“Can we just not?” he asked, all the green in his eyes back as they penetrated into hers. “I just kind of let go with you and it felt really good. I don’t know what it means, but I just want to keep that feeling going.”

She let out a few more silent sobs and tried to catch her breath. She gazed at him with wonder. She could lose herself in those eyes; they were pools of beauty that had the ability to make her forget everything else. She nodded slowly, spellbound.
 

He held her until she had calmed down. He stroked her hair and made a few jokes. He definitely knew how to make her feel better. But the knowledge of what she had just done to this broken man stayed in the back of her head, where she would dwell on it until she just couldn’t take it anymore.
 

“Let’s finish up here,” he said eventually, lifting her from the counter and lowering her to the floor. “We still have to frost these.”

Lucy picked up her culinary torch from where it had fallen and set it back on the counter. “We should.” She looked around. “We should really, you know, wash our hands first.”

Charlie tightened his lips, attempting to stifle a bashful smirk. “Yeah, probably.”

Chapter Nine

On the sunny afternoon of Jackson’s party, Lucy headed back into Phoenix. She had made another batch of appetizers in the morning—buffalo wing cupcakes—and then dropped them all off at Charlie’s house before the party started. She’d had no intention of actually attending the party, but Dylan had looked so disappointed when she’d headed out to leave. It was clear that there was no way of getting out of it, so she’d promised to return after she freshened up.

She’d just missed Charlie, who Dylan had sent to the store to pick up last-minute things. She did, however, get help carrying everything in from Jonah.
 

“Charlie helped you with these?” he had asked, eyeing a box of cupcakes. “My brother, Charlie, who can’t even make a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Lucy had laughed at that. “He did a good job.”

“Well, he obviously had a good teacher,” Jonah had said, and left it at that.
 

It didn’t take a Ph.D. to understand that the Mathews had ideas of their own when it came to Charlie’s love life. She wondered if she felt flattered at that. For some reason, though, it seemed like they would be happy seeing him with anyone, no matter who it turned out to be.
 

After making herself look presentable—okay, maybe with some extra effort for Charlie—Lucy was on her way back to the party. The day was hot; it was a perfect day for a party, but she was already sweating through the thin layer of her yellow sundress.
 

The night before, they had finished the cupcakes without uttering a single word about what had taken place in the kitchen—on the counter. They’d finished what they were doing, flirting a little, but had parted ways with only a small kiss, which Lucy thought Charlie might have felt obligated to give.
 

She had to park down the road because the driveway was now full of cars. She grabbed Jackson’s gift: a play bake set, complete with a plastic whisk, spatula, soft rolling pin, mixing bowls, rubber muffin pan, and a cute chef hat that Lucy had sewn a bumblebee patch on, thinking of Jackson’s favorite word. She wasn’t sure exactly how that would be received, but she figured most people who knew him would get the joke.
 

Her skinny wedges clicked against the pavement as she made her way up the road. She hoped the door would be open and she wouldn’t have to ring the bell. It would be less embarrassing, somehow, to just slip inside without announcing her presence. How awkward.
 

Charlie’s house was a cute Spanish-style bungalow with a few plants here and there in the gravel yard. There was a palm tree to the right of the house high enough to bend slightly over the roof. The outside didn’t have a woman’s touch at all, which made Lucy wonder if Meredith ever lived there to begin with.

She let out a breath when she saw that her prayers had been answered and the front door was wide open. What she hadn’t thought of, however, were all the strangers that stood just inside the threshold.
 

Ugh
.

She opened the door and smiled at the group, most of whom smiled back and immediately returned to their conversations. Making her way past everyone she didn’t recognize, Lucy squeezed into the kitchen, where Dylan and two other women fussed with the food and drinks.
 

“You made it!” Dylan beamed, and pulled the present from Lucy’s hands. She stuck out her bottom lip. “You didn’t have to get him anything. Oh gosh, Lucy. You’re so sweet.”

“It’s just a little something I thought he should have,” Lucy said.
 

She scanned the room in search of Charlie, finally catching a glimpse of him through the window. He was outside, manning the grill and laughing with his brothers. Her heart stopped as she watched him—that dazzling grin and golden skin. He took a drink and she was mesmerized. Such a simple action had driven the temperature of her blood to a supreme point of boiling; everything involved in that drink: his lips, his throat, and those magical hands that held the cup … oh, she was in trouble.
 

“Hello? Earth to Lucy!” Dylan’s voice came through, interrupting her trance.
 

Lucy looked at Dylan and took in her amused expression. “Sorry. What?”

“I said,” Dylan began, her grin widening, “make yourself at home.”

“Thank you. Uh, where should I put my purse?” Lucy asked, and swallowed hard.
 

“Just toss it anywhere,” an older, pretty blonde woman said, while watching her with narrowed eyes. “Actually, I’ll put it in my son’s bedroom.”

“Your son?” Lucy asked, trying to put the pieces together. “Oh, as in Charlie’s mother?”

“Mom,” Dylan intervened, “this is Lucy. She made the cupcakes.”

Immediately, the woman’s suspiciously narrowed eyes fell into an expression of total surprise, gratitude, and something else that Lucy couldn’t decipher. “Oh? You made these?”

Lucy nodded and, for a moment, found herself getting lost in her green eyes. What was it about this family and their eyes? It was like the eighth wonder, that brilliant color of green.
 

The woman took Lucy’s hand and squeezed it tight. “You’re going to have to explain to me the whole buffalo chicken cupcake thing. I’m dying to know how you came up with that.”

Lucy could have hugged her; she was that warm. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

“I’m Linda Mathews, by the way. Charlie’s mom, Jackson’s grandma . . . whatever.”

“Lucy Dalton, friend of Jackson.” Lucy grinned, enjoying the sound of that.
 

“Oh, you’re so cute. Well, Lucy Dalton, follow me. Let’s take your purse to Charlie’s room.” Linda stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Or, look at me trying to take the lead. Do you already know where it is?”

“Mom,” Dylan scolded, shaking her head.

“No, ma’am,” Lucy said, bile rising in her throat.
 

“Just trying to put the pieces together,” Linda said with a giggle. “Trust me, honey, we’ve all looked at a man the way you were just looking at my son. Can’t blame me for wondering.”

Lucy drew in a long breath and turned an embarrassing shade of tomato. “Right,” she said, and wanted to die.

Linda pulled Lucy through the party and stopped to talk to other people. She introduced Lucy to everyone, explaining that she was responsible for the buffalo chicken cupcakes, which came with a lot of questions. Lucy was just grateful that no one had been afraid to eat the little appetizers. She had to admit, it was a bold creation.
 

With her hand still locked firmly in Linda’s, Lucy entered a bedroom with light blue walls and white furniture. Charlie’s bedroom. She looked around discreetly and decided that it had definitely been designed by a woman.
 

It was a realization that hurt like a thousand needles in her lungs. This was where that beautiful woman had lived; it was where she had slept with her husband and planned for her baby—for their
lives
.
 

How cruel life could be.
 

“Just toss it on the bed,” Linda commanded, and smiled at Lucy.
 

Lucy dropped her purse on the white down comforter and noticed that only one pillow look used.
Oh, Charlie
, she thought, and stifled a cry.
 

“Did you know Meredith?” Linda asked with a frown. “You look upset.”

Lucy shook her head a bit too quickly. “No. I didn’t know her, but I know she passed away.”

Linda sighed and crossed her arms. “Life is not always what we think, huh?”

Lucy sighed sadly.
 

“Here I am going all morbid on you,” Linda said with a chuckle. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I think your family has lost a lot,” Lucy said, and smiled when Linda locked arms with her.
 

“What do you mean?” Linda’s expression was questioning. “You mean about my husband?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Linda smirked and closed her eyes. “No, no. I mean, how do you know about my husband?”

“Charlie told me,” Lucy practically whispered.
 

Linda’s eyes widened. “Charlie?
My
Charlie told you about his dad?”

Warily, Lucy gave her a gentle nod.
 

“Interesting.” Linda clucked her tongue.
 

Lucy didn’t understand and she didn’t want to ask her to elaborate. She had already crossed the lines of awkward, invasive, and embarrassing about seventy times in the last thirty minutes.
 

“Anyway, let’s go mingle and talk cupcakes,” Linda said, and pulled Lucy out of the room.
 

They made their way back into the kitchen where more people had gathered. Lucy found a stool on the other side of the counter and tucked herself away in a corner. She still hadn’t said hello to Charlie, but she figured he was just being a good host. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to speak to him, anyway. Well, of course she
wanted
to speak to him. It wasn’t a matter of want; it was a matter of how she would handle it and what her cheeks would give away at his presence.
 

“Hey, Cupcake,” one of Charlie’s brothers said, a plate in his hand. She was pretty sure it was Hugh, but they all looked alike so she couldn’t be too sure.
 

Lucy looked from side to side and assumed he meant her. “Hugh, right?”

He grinned a beautiful Mathews smile, and dropped onto the stool next to her. “Very good,” he said. “No one ever gets that right. They usually say, ‘Hey, you’re Brandon and Charlie’s little brother,’ or ‘Hey, it’s one of the younger Mathews.’ I’ve even gotten, ‘Aren’t you one of the twins?’”