Charlotte shook her head. “We played phone tag.”
Then she definitely didn’t know about her father. “Charlotte …”
“Come.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go find my mother, catch the game, and if you’re lucky, I’ll let you catch me afterward.” She laughed, and before he could say another word, she took off running.
With a groan, he ran after her, figuring he could just be there to minimize the damage when the shock came.
* * *
Charlotte ran, then glanced over her shoulder and laughed. Thanks to her quick dash, she was light-headed. Of course, Roman’s kiss had much to do with her dizzy state, but her escape had been born of pure self-preservation. She didn’t care how far from the baseball field they were, everyone would take one look at her and figure out what they’d been doing. So the less she did under the bleachers, the better as far as she was concerned. Until later. Then they could pick up where they left off and do whatever they wanted.
The thought sent tingles of anticipation up her spine, arousing every nerve ending she possessed, bringing a stinging flush to her cheeks. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she realized Roman was walking behind her at a leisurely pace. He grinned and waved, then got sidetracked by Rick, who grabbed him on the shoulder.
Charlotte slowed her steps, and turned back to walk right into her mother. A glowing version of her mother, from her made-up face to her bright smile and twinkling eyes.
“Mom!”
“Where are you coming from in such a hurry?” Annie steadied her with a hug before letting go.
“I’m … I was …”
“Making out under the bleachers with Roman.” Her mother reached a hand up and brushed her knuckle over Charlotte’s cheek. “I recognize the signs. Your father and I used to do it all the time.”
A protest rose to her lips. Charlotte didn’t want to accept that anything about her feelings for Roman was similar to Annie and Russell. Not even something as light and fun as acting like teenagers.
“So what brings you out tonight?” Charlotte asked.
She glanced around, looking for Dennis Sterling, then eyed her mother with curiosity. “Or maybe I should ask, who brings you out tonight?”
From the corner of her eye, Charlotte noticed Beth waving wildly in the distance. If Beth was that hungry, she should just eat without waiting. Charlotte signaled back with one finger, indicating she’d be another minute or so.
Annie sighed. “I should have known I couldn’t keep a secret in this town.”
Charlotte turned back to her mother. “Apparently you can, because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” The only thing Charlotte did know was that her mother had a high-wattage smile and an easy laugh she hadn’t seen in way too long. When Charlotte ran into Dennis, she’d plant a huge kiss on him herself.
She pulled her mother into a tight hug. As she inhaled, a beautiful scent Charlotte didn’t recognize teased her senses. “Perfume and makeup,” she murmured.
“I hope you’ll greet me with the same enthusiasm, Charlie.”
That voice, using that name. Charlotte stiffened and dropped her arms, backing slowly away from her mother. Betrayal settled like lead in her stomach. Charlotte should have known better than to think her mother had allowed herself to be interested in anyone other than her absentee husband, Russell Bronson.
She turned and faced the man who casually walked in and out of her life on his own schedule. He was as good-looking as ever, dressed in khakis and a navy pullover sweater. His hair was neatly combed, with more gray than she remembered. His face offered a few more lines, but he’d aged well. And looked happy.
Unlike her mother, Charlotte had no doubt his moods didn’t change depending upon whether or not he was with Annie. But her mother’s mood, actions, and even how she looked hinged on whether Russell was in town. And when he took off again.
Charlotte’s anger grew, not just at the man who made Yorkshire Falls and his family into a revolving door—but at her mother, for allowing herself to be manipulated so easily. And for so long.
“Charlie?”
Charlotte wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “So the prodigal father’s returned.”
He stepped forward and she stepped back.
Disappointment flickered in his eyes—or maybe that was what she wanted to see. That darn kernel of hope she’d always held in her heart wouldn’t be extinguished, but she refused to act on it.
The baseball game continued, but Charlotte had lost interest. And apparently so had the rest of the crowd. Unless she was paranoid, she felt dozens of pairs of eyes trained on the dysfunctional Bronson family. Small-town curiosity at its finest. She braced herself against the stares and chatter, and stood in silence, waiting for her parents to speak.
Russell sighed. “Not the reception I was hoping for,” he said finally.
“But the one you expected, I’m sure.”
Roman strode to her side and placed an arm around her shoulder. More fodder for gossip at Norman’s, she thought wryly. “Am I interrupting a family reunion?”
She shook her head. “Roman, you remember my …” She cleared her throat. “You remember Russell, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He extended his hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Sweet Raina had instilled perfect manners into all three of her sons. Too bad she hadn’t given them her sense of stability and roots.
Russell shook Roman’s hand. “It’s been a while.”
“It certainly has,” Roman said.
She gritted her teeth, forced a smile, and aimed her next comments Roman’s way. “True. And considering you’ve been in town for a few days, you’re more up on what’s new around here. So why don’t you catch Russell up on what he’s missed during this last absence?”
Roman’s sharp intake of breath sliced into her heart, but she refused to let it change her intentions. In her mind, she saw herself as she’d been when she’d run out from behind the bleachers, laughing, happy, and excited from her run-in with Roman. Looking forward with aroused anticipation to the night
