“It’s perfect. Thank you,” he replied.
Minutes or even seconds later, Everett was cast into darkness. He slept like a little kid after a long day of play. He only knew that when he woke up, he would find a way to help Charlotte through the rest of the weekend. And he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte stood at the barrier between the hallway and her living area at five-thirty in the morning, wide-awake and bright-eyed, staring at the still-sleeping form of one Everett Rainey, a man she had literally just met.
What had she done?
She remembered the night, of course—at least, most of it. She remembered wanting to take care of him, to make him a bit of cocoa (and whiskey, if memory served her correctly), to ask him about his thoughts.
Did she remember asking him to stay over? Why had he just slept on the couch?
Had she tried to kiss him or something?
That wasn’t really like her. After all, it had taken her years to kiss a boy for the first time. That boy had been Jason, who had later become her husband.
Shoot. She was the most inexperienced person on the planet.
And here she was, before one of the more experienced people she’d probably ever met.
Was she falling for him?
Would she really allow herself to do that?
Surely, she was more responsible than that.
Oh, but why did she care so much? Why did he seem to care so much? When Ursula had berated her the night before, Charlotte had thought there was no way out, that she would have to endure the depths of all that pain and torment until Ursula got bored of it.
And then, there he had been—her knight in shining armor.
Charlotte had a number of people to call and things to take care of that morning. She tried to redirect her thoughts to include these elements only. Any sort of romance brewing between her and the photographer would have to wait for another day. Assuredly, that other day would come, and he would be long gone.
Better to keep herself safe from emotion.
Charlotte brewed a pot of coffee as quietly as she could. Now that he was there, fast asleep, in all of his clothes (should she have offered him something? No. That “something” would have belonged to Jason, and that felt even more wrong than everything else)—she might as well allow him to sleep.
Just as she poured herself a big cup of black coffee, Rachel appeared beside her. Charlotte nearly leaped out of her robe.
“Hey, honey,” she said, trying to stifle her tremendous fear. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were awake.”
Rachel tilted her head toward Everett. “He slept over,” she whispered.
“I guess so. He must have passed out before heading back to the Inn.”
Rachel gave her a look that meant, If that’s what you want me to believe, I’ll believe it. I guess.
“Seriously,” Charlotte said, giving her daughter a wide-eyed stare.
Rachel grabbed the box of Pop-Tarts from the top of the fridge and yanked open the silver package. She took a small nibble from the top of a brown sugar cinnamon, then chewed contemplatively.
“What are you thinking?” Charlotte breathed.
“I was just wondering if this might become a thing.”
“What kind of a thing?”
“Like, are you going to start dating again?” Rachel’s eyes bore into Charlotte’s.
Charlotte grabbed the silver package, yanked out the other Pop-Tart, and took her own bite. “No,” she chided and took another bite before continuing. “Your father has only been gone a little over a year. I know that. You know that. It’s not like we can just walk away from that life so easily. Maybe I’ll never be ready to. I don’t know.”
Rachel arched her brow. “Apparently, Aunt Claire is worried that you’ll never find anyone.”
“Oh, my God. Of course, she is. But I have you, don’t I?”
Rachel grumbled. “For now. But Mom, I’m fourteen. What if I want to go to college off the island? And what if I get a job in New York City, like Christine, or Boston, like Lola? And what if I move to Paris or go to Rome or...”
Charlotte stretched her palm out between them and shook it. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”
Rachel shrugged. “I just think maybe we shouldn’t focus on the past so much. That’s all.”
This was the wrong time to have this conversation. Charlotte felt that in every part of herself, in the way her throat constricted and the way her heart lurched into her stomach. After all, the first man she had ever been attracted to outside of Jason Hamner currently slept on their couch, only about six feet away.
Still, a small, horrible kernel of her heart told her that her daughter was right.
Maybe it was stupid to wait.
Maybe Jason wanted her to move on.
Charlotte tore off another piece of Pop Tart and grumbled. “Why do you keep doing this?”
“Doing what?” Rachel demanded.
“Proving how old you are? It’s making me feel silly. You’re going to have to be my boss soon,” Charlotte said.
Suddenly, Everett erupted from the couch—so fast that the quilt fell off his legs and he yelped with fear.
Immediately, both Charlotte and Rachel burst into laughter. Everett turned his wide eyes toward them, clearly coming out of some kind of nightmare. He looked at them like he had never seen them before in his life. If Charlotte hadn’t been more sensible, she might have thought he was possessed.
“My gosh,” he said suddenly. He rubbed his cheeks, coming out of his panic. “I had no idea where I was.”
“We figured as much,” Rachel said, still giggling. “You looked like you were getting chased out of your dream by monsters.”
“Ha. It was kind of like that, actually,” Everett said. “Actually, I usually do that when I’m at someone else’s place. I wake up like a crazy person. I’m sorry about that.”
Rachel shrugged. “Thanks for the comedy routine. Want a Pop-Tart?” She grabbed another silver package and passed
