Little White Lies

She placed one hand on the door, shifted to the side and slammed it. As soon as the latch clicked into place, she spun back to him. “You know nothing. We haven’t had but a moment to ourselves to chat, so everything you think you know has been an assumption, and you know what that makes you.”

“Touche. So why don’t you make up some pretty little story, and then go back to James, have a few kids, and live happily ever after?”

“James and I aren’t a match,” Charley said through clenched teeth.

Wyatt realized he’d driven the arrow deep. The phone in his pocket vibrated. He opted to check the message to calm himself down. ‘She’s stronger when her true self-Stuart.’ Wyatt turned back to Charley, dismissed the message.

“Why… are… you… doing… this?”

He shrugged. “Doing what?”

Charley took a step toward him. “I came here to talk.”

“You have an entire family who you can keep with you forever.” Wyatt moved a little closer. “Why add some stupid human who will die in another forty or so years?”

Her eyes blazed, the color of a sunrise, nothing like he’d ever seen before. Within arm’s reach, he wanted to touch and take back half-or most-of what he said.

“Chase was dropped on our doorstep eight years ago. He was abandoned, like Lily. My entire family took him in and called him our own without going to the authorities or adoption centers. That makes us the very core of the human population you seek to rid yourself of-child launderers, I believe. You were working to eliminate them in Montreal, right?”

“Whatever. It’s all a load of bullshi-”

Her left hook came at him without warning. It smashed across the bridge of his nose and added a wallop the likes of which Wyatt had been privileged to avoid during his career. Stuart’s punch didn’t come close to Charley’s. His entire body swayed as he landed with a thud on the hardwoods.

“Holy shit!” Wyatt yelped as blood spurted.

He covered his nose with his hands only to see the red liquid drip from them. It hadn’t been more than two days since his altercation with Stuart; the combined one-two hurt like bloody hell.

“Oh my god! Wyatt!” Charley leaned over him. “I am so sorry!” Her breath hitched. “We need to get you to a hospital. I am… oh… I’m so sorry.”

She started to open a cell phone, but he grabbed her wrist with one hand and tugged her down to him; the other kept pressure on his nose. “You have one hell of a hook. How did I not know you’re left handed?”

She leaned her head onto his chest. “I don’t know. I might have been right-handed before… as-”

“Ambidextrous?” His head spun in a dizzy array of colors as he moved to sit up. “That is so hot.”

“Let me help you.” From behind him, she pushed him to a seated position. She whipped back around and straddled his lap. “Lean toward me.” In one swift move, she pulled off her shirt, pressed it to his nose.

“Ow…”

“Oh! I am so sorry, Wyatt. I never should have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s so unlike me. I-”

“It’s okay.”

“No! It’s not. I lost control over my emotions. I’ve worked very hard to keep them in check even when not necessary. You don’t know everything, and I’ve had one chance to tell you and we didn’t get far. God, this is all my fault, as always.” With her free hand she palmed her forehead.

“Any more coming out?” he asked.

“I don’t think so.” She pulled the bloodied shirt away and waited a beat.

“Anything?”

“No, but we should get you some ice. I think that’ll help.”

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“You… what?” Charley’s rapid eye-blink suggested she didn’t understand.

Wyatt chuckled, though pain radiated through his cheekbones. “On my boo-boo. You put it there… you ought to make it feel better, right?”

Her eyes grew wider than they had in the doorway. “Have you lost your mind?

He had, sixteen years before when she’d left him the first time. Their entire conversation had been a stupid, pride-induced tirade. “Yes.”

“You want me to kiss your nose?” She cocked her head at him.

“Yes, please.” Wyatt grimaced as searing pain shot through his sinuses.

She dropped a feathery kiss on his bridge, sending fireworks straight to his groin. Whoever would have thought a kiss to a broken nose would be erotic?

“I want another, but before you give it to me, will you answer one question?”

She nodded.

“Do you wear matching panties?”

“Huh?” she said.

He pointed to her bra, which, without the cover of her shirt, left little to the imagination.

“Oh. Oops.” Her head turned left and right, but other than the bloody shirt, she had nothing for more cover. She criss-crossed her arms over her chest.

“One more question?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“Do you love James?”

“Yes.”

***

“But not the way you think,” Charley said when Wyatt’s eyes grew wide. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“But I saw you.”

“You saw what you wanted to see. Did you hear us?”

Wyatt cringed when he shook his head.

Charley touched the side of his cheek. How much do I admit? “The first thing he said is that you were right, and I was wrong about Chase’s kidnappers and-”

Wyatt winged up an eyebrow.

Charley giggled. “Don’t get too many ideas, ’cause I’m still right no matter what the two of you say, and that’s totally not where I wanted to go with this.” She leaned toward him, laid a soft kiss to the side of his nose. “But I am sorry for telling you to leave. It was uncalled for. I’m just-” She hung her head. “I kissed him in thanks, Wyatt, not because I wanted to make mad, passionate love with him.”

“Who do you want to… make love… to?” He smirked at her before he flinched.

“I’d say you, but you’re not lookin’ so good right now.” She pointed to his nose. Wyatt’s laugh warmed her. “Can we please put some ice on it?”

With his hand free, he pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to her. “You might be more comfortable in this.” The muscles she’d wanted to touch at the car didn’t disappoint at the second glance. The man stayed in shape, rippled from his pecs to his abs.

Charley grimaced at the state of the fabric. “Gross.” She pulled the cleanest spot across her chest.

“A little blood is gross to a woman whose bones can shrink? Do you ever watch what happens?” Wyatt rose from the floor.

“Yes, I’ve watched. Many times. It’s not pretty.” Charley followed Wyatt into a part of the house she hadn’t seen when she’d first visited. “This place is lovely, Wyatt.”

“Thanks.” He smiled behind her soiled shirt.

She cringed until they walked into the completely modern kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, cherry cabinetry, and a table made for six but set for four, adorned with flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Expecting company?”

“What? No.” Wyatt dug through the freezer for ice. He wrapped a few cubes in her shirt, laid it against the side of his nose. “It’s decor.”