Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

BOOK: Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1)
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When
his hands slow I ask, “W . . . why’d you do that?” My voice is breathless.

He’s
rubbing the sensitive tickled skin on my stomach and sides. My breath is
hitching from laughing so hard. I push his conciliatory hands away; he can’t be
trusted from a repeat attack. I’m lying on my back, hands and arms covering my
naked breasts as much to protect myself as to prevent his prying eyes from
feasting on my body.

“Because
I don’t want you to be down in the dumps.” When I don’t budge, he more
seriously says, “Charlie, I want to be with you. I didn’t care about your past
before, and I don’t care about it now. We’ll make it through.” His eyes are
warm, sincerity emanating from the deep blue hue. Rubbing his hand along my
shoulder and down the side of my arm, he caresses the skin to provide comfort.
 

I’m
really confused. “What do you mean you didn’t care before; before what?” I ask
while sitting up, bringing the sheet with me as the conversation changes
direction.

His
face remains exactly as it was, no movement, absolutely still for a long
moment. I can see his mind working, formulating a response. Finally, taking my
hand, his fingers lightly follow the outline of it as he says, “Only this: last
night didn’t change anything for me. You are very forthcoming about your
family, your life when you became a Carter, rarely talking about life prior to
the age of fourteen, alluding it’s private. I knew you had something you
weren’t ready to share. I didn’t care about what that was because I enjoy being
with you and I’m very happy you’re here.” His fingers wrap through mine,
holding my hand tightly. “Now that you’ve told me, my feelings haven’t changed.
You’re a very strong young woman; I admire that about you.”

Is
he for real? How can he be so perfect? “You know this is hard for me to
believe, right?” I say incredulously. “Colin, you’re running for president; did
you forget that?”

Shaking
his head, brow drawn in a
you're making absolutely no sense
look, he
says, “Yes, Charlie, I’m very aware of what I’m doing at the moment. It’s hard
to forget. I’m also here with you. You’re a part of my life now, and I will
support you anyway I can.”

My
mouth drops open. Hmmm. “Let me lay this out for you the way I see it. I,”
poking at my chest for emphasis, “am damaged goods, Colin. I’m not Ivy League,
debutant, angelic and pure Charlise Carter that can socialize with heads of
state. I’m a lost girl, lost in the world of the ‘system’, raped and driven to
abortion when I was in a mental state not worthy of humanity.
Comprendo
?”
My voice is rising with each word. “You're a Republican candidate for the
president of the United States, supportive of pro-life initiatives. My past
will hurt you, not help you. I can’t believe you’re of sound mind when saying
to me you don’t care!” I end frantic and winded, staring at him like he’s
mentally unstable.  

“Are
you quite finished?” Colin says, his eyes hard, unmoving. His jaw clenches so
the muscles bulge in and out on his cheeks, his breathing rushed.

Nodding,
he continues, “I don’t ever want to hear you say that you’re damaged goods
again, Charlise.” He draws out my given name, his tone low and impassioned.

“I
assure you I’m of sound mind and
body
. I have lived my life in
preparation for the presidency. I make decisions to ensure nothing will taint
my reputation. I’m calculated and in control of my destiny and my future. None
of that has changed. So, let’s review your attributes, shall we?” His eyes are
scorching. 

“You
are a beautiful, intelligent, well-educated, well-spoken young woman raised by
loving parents. Period. I can’t change what happened fifteen years ago.” He
cringes as those words fall from his lips. “What I can do is support you, help
you get through whatever it is you need to. I'll say it one more time: I don’t
care about your fucking past.” He’s breathing hard, nostrils flaring.

In
time his blue eyes gentle, and his lips move slowly, enunciating each word to
ensure I understand what he’s saying. “However, I do care very much for you.”
 

“Oh”
is my genius response. He cares very much for me. I stare for a while, thinking
about what he said and what I have left to say. Finally starting again, I say,
“I just don’t get it, Colin. Look at you.” I wave my hovering hands over his
chiseled, god-like perfection, exaggerating my movement. “How can you want to
be with me?” Now I wave my hands in front of my face in a circular movement.

“You
surprise me sometimes, Charlie,” Colin says, wide-eyed. “Have you taken the
time to really look at yourself? Have you seriously thought about the qualities
you possess? Have you paid attention to the number of men that want in your
pants?” he asks crassly.

“What
men?” I stupidly ask.

His
right eyebrow rises. The right brow I love. The right brow that’s sexy as hell.

“Shall
I give you a list? Okay, let’s start with just last night; the waiter who
refilled your glass every five minutes, Bill Jensen and Alex Miller.” His eyes
flare.

“Are
you jealous?” I ask, stupefied. That is nonsensical.

“It’s
not an emotion I’m very familiar with, Charlie, and I don’t pretend to like
it.”

“Colin,”
it’s my turn at exasperation, “you are the last person in the world who should
be jealous. Have you met me? Let’s start again,” I say very sarcastically. “Hi,
I’m Charlie Carter.” I reach out to shake his hand. “I’ve never been with a
man, except in a forcible situation that frankly turned me off from engaging
with any other man for fifteen years—that is until I met Mr. McPerfect McKenna.
Smoking-hot, sexy-as-hell, perfect-gentleman Colin McKenna, the man I can’t
keep my hands off, nor keep my pants on when he’s around. The only man I have
ever wanted. The only man I will ever want,” I finish breathless, repeating
again what I’ve said to him before.

We
stare at each other for minutes before he breaks the silence. “So I guess we’re
clear.” Grabbing my hand in his, the warm contact so welcome, he says, “I’m not
going anywhere and neither are you.”

For
a moment I stare into his eyes, waiting to ask one last very important
question. “I know how you feel about abortion, Colin.” The shame is evident as
I speak. “Can you forgive me for what I did?”

His
hand closes firmly over mine, holding and gripping it tightly, just as he holds
and grips my heart. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Closing
my eyes, the weight crushing my chest evaporates—freedom from self-doubt and
self-preservation. Colin McKenna really and truly wants me.

I
throw myself on him and he falls to his back, holding me in his arms as he
laughs. I look into his eyes, his wonderful ocean-deep blue eyes with an
intriguing sliver of brandy in the left one, completely in awe of such a man.
His grin mirrors mine.

“So,
now that we’ve got all of that worked out, what would you like to do?” His eyes
move to look at my mouth, his gaze wickedly salacious.

My
grin gets even bigger. “Oh, I can think of a few things,” I say in my most
seductive voice.

Rolling
over so quickly I have no idea how, I end up on my back. “Do tell.” He nips and
kisses my neck.

“Oh,
I would much rather show you,” I say, pulling the towel from his hips.

~

Much
to my astonishment I had a wonderful day. We ate a late brunch with his parents
at a local diner near the boutique where I bought my outfit yesterday.
Afterward, his mom and I shopped while Colin and his dad went to watch an
afternoon hockey game. Colin’s mom found a beautiful dress for her daughter’s
summer wedding and I bought Colin a little present I’ll give to him when we’re
alone.

Colleen
and I are walking along the brick sidewalk in silence, looking through the
storefront windows, our pace casual. Sun breaks through the tall trees lining
the streets, the telltale signs of spring budding on the peaks of the branches.
We’re at ease, enjoying the day and the company. I’m surprised when Colleen
breaks our peaceful silence to say, “I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries
last night, Charlie. I shouldn’t have spoken out about your relationship with
Colin. I truly wasn’t trying to interfere or coax you to share information.”

I'm
quick to respond.  “Please, don’t worry about that at all. With your
prompting I did some much needed self-reflection.” I hug myself like a
schoolgirl in love. “Colin and I had a really, really good talk. In fact, more
than one.” Amongst other things, I dip my head to hide my broadening grin. I
hope she doesn’t guess at what those things are.

She
smiles in return. “I’m so glad to hear it. You really are very good for him,
Charlie. It warms a mom’s heart to see him so happy.”

“He
makes me happy too, Colleen,” I say absently, rubbing my hand over the bracelet
I have yet to take off. She stares at my wrist and I hold it up for her to see.
“It’s a gift from Colin.”

I
wonder about her knowing smile. “It’s beautiful. Confirmation from Colin he
cares for you very much, I’m sure.”

Is
that what it is? Colin’s version of telling me he cares? Before I can ask
anything more she changes the subject, and we continue the light banter the
remaining distance to the sports bar where Colin and Michael are intently
watching the New Jersey Devils play-off game. Father and son are sitting at a
four-person high-top table, their eyes turned to the game displayed on a
large-screen TV hanging in the center of the bar.

Colin
is facing the door. He’s more laid-back than I’ve ever seen before in public
with a plain dark blue T-shirt stretching across his chest and hugging his
biceps. For once he hasn’t tucked in his shirt; it lies perfectly at the top of
his dark, low-slung jeans. He is exquisite.

Colin’s
face splits into a broad grin when I catch his eye. I smile shyly in answer to
his breathtakingly beautiful face. He slips gracefully off of his chair,
standing to greet me. I have to tilt my head back to look into his dancing blue
eyes as he bends down to kiss my cheek, the simmering electric pulse jolting
between us. Pulling back, we share an intimate look warranting a quick, sweet
kiss on the lips. His are soft, tasting mildly of beer and peanuts. I blush. A
constant pink stains my cheeks now that he’s in my life.

Colin
pulls out my chair for me and I slide onto it, elated to be with him. My heart
constantly beats double-time when he’s near. As he sits next to me, his chair
slides closer to mine so our legs touch.

“Did
you have a good time?” His tone is low as he leans in with a small playful
grin, waiting for my answer. I place my hand on his leg nearest me, my hand
lazily kneading his thigh.

“Yes,
I had a great time.”

“What’d
you buy?” he asks, staring into my eyes, the grin on his lips turning sassy.

“Not
telling.” I smile and turn so I’ll stop blushing. Colleen and Michael try not
to stare, but they’re both failing to hide smiles in their menus, allowing us a
moment of privacy. Quickly I drop my head to review a list of drink specials. How
embarrassing. Colin reaches his arm across my shoulder, squeezing me into him,
a silent reassurance. When I dare drag my gaze to his he’s grinning, happiness
radiating brightly.

“So,
how about you, Mom? Did you find anything?” His hand drops to his thigh,
covering my fingers that continue to rub and knead him mindlessly.

“Actually,
I did. A dress for your sister’s wedding. I’m so relieved to cross it off my
list. Now I only have to worry about Michael getting fitted for his tuxedo.”

The
waiter approaches for drink orders. “When is the wedding?” I ask after he
leaves.

“Ryanne
is getting married in Ireland, on July 23rd,” Colleen says. “We have family
there, and it’s been her dream to get married on the family farm.”

“It
sounds wonderful.”

“Have
you ever been to Ireland, Charlie?” Michael asks.

Shaking
my head, I say, “No, I haven’t. My vacations are normally spent in northern Michigan
at my parents’ cottage.” Saying it aloud, I’m reminded of my upcoming trip I’ve
yet to talk with Colin about. My heart sinks at the thought.   

“It’s
a very peaceful, beautiful country,” he says.

“I’m
sure I would love it. I’ve always dreamed of visiting Ireland; my biological
grandparents were both born there. I guess that’s where I got my red hair.”

“Do
you know if you have any family living there?” Colleen asks.

“No.
Other than a box of things that followed me through foster care I don’t have
anything from that part of my life. I’ve never thought much about it; when I
was adopted I immersed myself into the Carters. I didn’t want them to feel as
if I didn’t love them, or that I didn’t love being a part of their family, so I
let my past go.”

“Would
you like to learn more about your birth parents or other family members that
may live out of the country?” Colin asks, his eyes alight with curiosity.

“I
don’t know. Maybe.”

“We’ll
talk about it before we go to Ireland. If you want to research your family
before then I’ll help you do it.”

I’m
confused, reviewing his comments over and over in my head.
Did he just ask
me to go with him to
Ireland
and his sister's wedding?
I
stare, unmoving, without saying a word.

“What?”
he asks, a light-hearted grin on his face, squeezing my fingers again.

“Ireland?”
                         

“Yes.
You’re going to need to get another dress. This wedding is black-tie. Wait
until you meet Ryanne and then you’ll know why,” he teases his absent sister.

His
mother and father are grinning brilliantly at the two of us, and all I can do
is shake my head in astonishment. How has all of this transpired in twenty-four
hours? Colin knows everything and he still wants me, he’s not afraid of
planning future events, and we’re in public and he’s holding my hand? I close
my eyes, welcoming the flush of warmth, and for the first time in my life,
complete happiness, full, abounding happiness creeps into every available
crevasse of my heart.

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