Mystic Hearts (26 page)

Returning
her focus to his, she held out her hand. “We better go.”

He
climbed to his feet, grasped and squeezed her hand. The return walk to her
mother’s car was quiet. When they reached it, he pinned her back against the
door, braced his hands against the roof on either side of her. “Give me time.”

Before
she had a chance to digest his words and formulate a response, he took her
mouth into a kiss that held as much fervor as it did possibilities, leaving her
breathless and liquefying her muscles.

“See
you in The Memory Café later?” he asked against her lips.

“Yes.”

He
opened the car door.

She
slid inside and started the car.

Irritation,
confusion, and with a heart full of warmth and hope, she drove away, eyeing his
reflection in the rearview mirror.

He
stared after her.

Chapter Fifteen

“Mother-fucker,”
Andrew fumed as he drove Randy’s boat into a boat slip on the Rappahannock
River.

He
didn’t give a fuck if the water gods towed the boat for illegally parking.
Randy would have to deal with it. How in the hell could his trusted friend rat
him out to big fuzz?

He
swiped a hand through his hair, second-guessing his anger. Randy didn’t know
Andrew would come for a visit today. Hell, he hadn’t been there for months.
Besides that, Randy didn’t know his alter-ego connection to the agent.

Holding
onto the boat’s rope, he climbed onto the wooden pier, secured the line around
the cleats, and gazed at the flowing water. He recalled seeing Charlene at
Randy’s.

At
first when he spotted Charlene standing in Randy’s yard, he’d jumped to
conclusions that she was two-timing him with his old buddy. But, he knew if
Charlene and Randy were ever interested in each other, it would have happened
before now. There was a time the three had been inseparable. Just the same,
he’d decided to watch from a distance. He parked his car behind a neighbor’s
shed and walked on foot toward them. On neutral territory, Charlene might
consider coughing up some money and give him a chance.

The
idea went up in smoke when the red-headed fucker parked his Suburban on the
road a little ways from where Andrew parked. At first, he thought the person
was a stalker. Then he saw the binoculars and red hair. The black SUV had agent
written all over it.

The
only way out for him was by boat. If he drove his car, the agent would have a
description and a license plate. In no time the pigs would track him down and
make him pay for the damage he did to that Chevelle.

The
image of Randy diving off the pier into the water filled his mind. The
awkwardness in which he fell didn’t look right. His body was disjointed as if
his shoulder had twisted backwards.
Did
big fuzz shoot him?

The
heat rose in Andrew’s face and he curled his fists. “Someone will pay.”

He
tugged out his phone, hit Hulk on speed dial.

“Hulk,
here.”

“Hulk,
Mouse. I need you to do me a favor. Come to the City Docks. Bring Monk’s car.”

“What?”
The chicken shit’s voice quaked. “He’ll have my ass.”

“Don’t
be a pansy. While Monk’s gone for the week, I’m in charge. I need you to take a
boat back to Colonial Beach and pick up my car.”

After
a few grumbles, Hulk agreed and disconnected.

Andrew
stepped back into the boat, stashed the key back where he found it under the
front seat, and went in search of a bar. He’d need some serious liquid
encouragement to carry out what he had planned.
Payback
.

****

Parking
in The Memory Café’s rear lot, Charlene blew out a breath. The tense moment
with Larry on the beach surprised and shocked her. She spoke her thoughts
without thinking. The scandalous part? She was glad she had.

She
used her key to let herself in the rear entrance. A scent of warm bread,
cheeses, and an array of spices filled the air, making her stomach growl.

“Hi,
Charlene,” Marge said, looking into the hall from the kitchen, her arms, elbow
deep in bread dough.

Charlene
smiled and moved toward Pamela’s stepmother. “Miss me?” They hadn’t seen each
other for the last couple of days.
 

“I
sure do. No one makes crepes like you.” Marge’s sweet smile and bright, gentle
eyes made her feel appreciated.

“You’re
too kind. I better head up front to collect Henry.”

“He
left, dear. Didn’t your mother tell you? Henry had an upset tummy. I think he
ate too many cookies. Pamela’s father carried them home when he drove Grand Ann
and Grand Ben back to their apartment.”

“Oh.”
With all the commotion at Colonial Beach, Charlene hadn’t heard any incoming
alerts. She retrieved her cell from her purse and checked messages, two from
Doris. The first, stating what Marge had said, and the second read: “Henry’s
better. Have a good time at Cocktail Hour. Is it okay if Henry stays the night
with me?.”

Charlene
smiled. Her mother looked out for her and Henry well. So much so, she worried
about her mom not having spare time to do her own socializing. “Yes, thank
you,” she said in the return text and gazed at Marge. “I’ll treat myself to a
margarita while I wait for the others.”

Marge
nodded toward the oven along the back wall. “Grab the two plates of food.
Celine’s already here, chewing Pamela’s ear off about Steve. Those two have a
rocky relationship.” Marge shook her head. “If she doesn’t eat, she’ll get
sick.”

“Will
do. Let me give Henry a quick call first.”

“I
turned the oven off a few minutes ago. They’ll keep.”

Charlene
nodded as Henry answered the phone. “Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi,
sweetie. You doing okay?”

A
long silence passed before Henry said, “Me and Grandma are watching
Spiderman
.”

Now,
she understood the long pause. “Does your belly hurt?”

Another
silence.

“Sweetheart.”
Charlene couldn’t keep her irritation from seeping into her voice.

“No,
I’m good. Mommy, I should go Spiderman’s about to...” his voice drifted off.

She
smiled. “Go watch your movie.
 
I love
you.”

“Love
you. Bye.”

The
phone went dead. She sighed. If her mother needed to speak to her, she’d call.

“That
boy of yours is adorable, so inquisitive and helpful. You’ve done an excellent
job with him, dear. You’re a good mother.”

Swelling
with pride, Charlene thought she’d bust. A sob worked up her throat. She
cleared it. “Thank you. You’re pretty awesome yourself.” She picked up the oven
mitts and retrieved a rectangle plate of quesadillas, her personal favorite,
and a round plate of tortilla chips with melted cheese.

Her
stomach grumbled in response.

Marge
laughed.

“Like
I said, you’re awesome,” Charlene sang, appreciating Marge’s thoughtfulness and
feeling eager to see her friends. She always enjoyed their weekly gathers, but
tonight, she felt excited and lighter like the world didn’t weigh down her
shoulders. She pushed through the swinging doors, leading to the black and
white tile dining room.

A
man she didn’t recognize worked behind the bar mixing a drink. By his buzz cut
and fit body, she figured him for military and wondered if he was one of
Pamela’s step-brothers.

He
winked.

The
man oozed testosterone. Still, he didn’t hold a candle to Larry. She nodded and
rubbed her lips together. The taste of Larry lingered, filling her with
excitement once more. She giggled. If she didn’t control her giddiness, Pamela
and Celine would know something was up and question her. Was she ready to share
with them her feelings concerning Larry?

“Hi,
ladies.” She stepped onto the patio. Evening began to descend and the autumn
scents of earth drifted over on the slight bit of wind, giving the outdoor
dining area with several tables scattered around a cozy feel. She set the
platters in the center of the table beside the stack of small plates then sat
in a black iron chair next to Pamela and searched the street. Not much traffic
stirred tonight. Talking over the engines made hearing each other a challenge.
“How are you, ladies?”

Relief
washed over Pamela’s face. “I’m so glad you came early. I need reinforcements.”
She laughed.

“Wait
a minute,” Celine retorted, humor lacing her voice. “I listen to you girls
whenever you have troubles. Look at it this way. You’re lucky I only have one
problem.”

“Steve,”
Charlene and Pamela said in unison.

Celine’s
mouth fell open. “Jeez. Give a girl a break.”

Charlene
grabbed a decorative tumbler from a pile from the center of the table. “Are you
expecting a crowd?”

“I
hope so. It’d be nice to have everyone here.” Pamela lifted one of the margarita
pitchers from in front of Celine and filled Charlene’s glass.

“How
are you?” Celine covered her hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come by yesterday.
Fredericksburg Tourist was packed.”

“No
biggie.” Charlene sipped the liquid and savored the taste of tequila, a
refreshing drink after spending the day riding an emotional roller coaster.
“That’s good.”

Pamela
sipped some water. “I expected you’d want to talk about Andrew.”

“I
figured you’d be uptight and would need to blow off steam,” Celine said around
a mouthful of margarita.

“Nope.
I’m declaring Cocktail Hour an Andrew-free zone.”

Celine
choked. “You had sex!”

“Shush!”
Pamela’s eyebrows slashed over her blue fierce eyes. “This is a PG
establishment.”

“Sorry,”
Celine said with a small, mortified smile.

Pamela
gazed over her shoulder into the café.

No
one watched them except for the bartender. He eyed Celine.

“No
foul,” Pamela said then faced Charlene. “Fess up, you have.”

“How’d
you two get the idea I had sex from me not wanting to talk about Andrew?”

Celine
and Pamela exchanged a silent conspirator glance.

Oh, boy.
So, much for
wondering if she should talk about Larry, they’d do it for her.

“Larry?”
Pamela’s normally welcoming smile transformed into calm tone and she arched an
eyebrow at Charlene.

If
she hadn’t known Pamela, she’d actually have been nervous and answered
immediately. As it was, Charlene would use this time to collect her thoughts
and work out what to say. Hanging out on the pier, her and Larry chatting with
one another in a way that was so comfortable she felt like she’d done it
forever. Well, until her mouth ran away from her and confided her feelings.
After that, things between them had become awkward.

Her
mind jumped to the kiss next to her mom’s car…phew…she fanned herself and
sipped more of her drink to camouflage the heat rising from her body to her
face.

“That
does it.” Celine gulped her drink. “I want some of what Charlene’s having.”

“Oh,
no. You can’t. We’re exclusive.” Charlene looked at her half-empty drink. “This
stuff is like truth serum.”

“The
bartender put a dash of serum in the pitcher to make people talk.” Pamela
laughed. “You have no choice.”

“It’d
do you good to tell us all the details.” Celine braced her elbow on the table
and rested her chin on her palm while sipping margarita through a straw. She
gazed, dreamlike, at Charlene.

“I
don’t kiss and tell.” Charlene grabbed a plate and slid a quesadilla onto it
and ate. They could stare at her all they wanted, but she wouldn’t spill, not
when she really didn’t know what to tell them. Was she in a relationship? Did
Larry have feelings for her? Confessing her feelings for him when she didn’t
know his for sure, was that what girlfriends did with one another? She hadn’t
had close friends since high school. The problems with Andrew, she told Celine
and Pamela everything, but this was Larry...their friend. She didn’t want to
say something that might make the relationship between any of them awkward.

 
Celine had told her and Pamela everything
about her and Steve’s relationship and he was Pamela’s best friend, had been
since high school. Pamela didn’t think any differently of him.

Charlene
swallowed the mouthful of food and blurted, “Yes, we had sex. It was the most
incredible, delicious night I’d ever experienced. I think about him non-stop.”

Celine
sighed.

Pamela
patted her hand. “I know the feeling.”

Charlene
locked gazes with Pamela. “I don’t know his feelings for me. He acts like it,
yet won’t say.”

Pamela
snorted. “The life of an agent. They’re reserved and cautious. The job and what’s
happened in their past dictates it. Give him time. Larry spending time with you
tells me how much he thinks of you.”