clasped her hands together. “I’m not sure where to start.”
She didn’t sound worried, which was good. As he didn’t have a clue as to what she wanted to talk about, he simply waited. Checking out the view filled the seconds. She wore a short jacket over a lacy shirt and black pants. Very “woman in charge,” a look he enjoyed. It made him think about taming that power, and making the lady in question weak with longing.
“That house we went to,” she began, forcing him to ignore the fantasy of a naked Charity writhing under him.
“You want to make an offer?”
“Not exactly. You own that house.”
He wasn’t sure how she found out, but he wasn’t surprised, either.
“Does it matter who’s selling it?”
She drew in a breath. “You’ve had other offers. People who can pay more than me.”
“I put a lot into that house. I want it to go to the right person.”
“You’re giving me a break on the price that you’re not giving them.”
Normally he would have been happy to take credit for being a great guy, but there was something in her tone, in the way she stared so intently.
“And that’s bad why?” he asked.
“How much of the town do you own?” she asked. “I know about the hotel. Do you own this building? More houses?”
“Want to see a profit and loss statement? My accountant prepares one every quarter.”
“No. Of course not. But you’re rich.”
“By some definitions.”
She shook her head. “Don’t play games. You’re successful and rich and gorgeous and great in bed.” She sucked in a breath. “Well, I can’t say about the ‘in bed’ part, but you obviously know what you’re doing and you do it well. And you’re nice.”
Her tone told him she wasn’t trying to compliment him. The last statement had come out like an accusation.
“Okay,” he said neutrally.
She stood, so he rose. She faced him.
“It’s so not fair. Why can’t this be easier?” she asked.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. Answering the question would be less of a problem if he knew what they were talking about. “I, ah…”
“Sure. For you,” she grumbled. “You get whoever you want. You practically have women being delivered by room service.”
“I don’t do that.”
“I know. I didn’t mean that, exactly. It’s just you could if you wanted. And you don’t, which means more points for you.”
“Charity? What are we talking about?”
She glared at him. “My life. My sucky love life. I don’t get it. Is it genetic? Karma? Did I do something bad in a previous life?”
He stood there, feeling helpless. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” She was pretty and smart and funny and when she smiled at him, he had the feeling that he could do just about anything.
“Isn’t there? Look at Robert. Isn’t he nice? Calm and pleasant and looking to settle down. But there’s not a scrap of chemistry. I couldn’t do it. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. And he would fall in the column of my more successful relationships. My first boyfriend hit me. Just once, but he did it.”
Josh’s hands curled into fists. “Where is he now?” he asked, his voice low and angry.
“It was ten years ago,” she said. “I walked out and never saw him again. But still. It made me wonder. My second serious boyfriend cleaned out my savings account. Talk about feeling stupid. The last one…” She sighed. “I’m not even going there. It’s too humiliating. And now there’s you. I like you. I like you a lot. Which means all I can think is if I like you then what on earth is wrong with you?”
With that, she turned and left.
Josh stood in the center of his office, trying not to grin like a fool. She liked him? Hot damn!
CHARITY STALKED OUT of Josh’s office, feeling foolish and exposed and a thousand other things that weren’t very pleasant. Her head was spinning, her chest felt tight and if she were the type to give in to tears, she would be having a breakdown right here on the sidewalk.
Instead she kept moving, head held high, smiling at people on the street. She saw Morgan in his bookstore and waved at the old man. He grinned back.
Now that was a simple relationship, she thought, trying to grit her teeth. She understood all the elements of it. She and Morgan were friends. They said hello, talked about the weather and went on with their lives. No complications. No handsome, hunky guy messing with her head.
What had she been thinking, telling Josh she liked him? Were they in high school? “Tell Bobby I like him, but only if he says he likes me first.”
She was confused, upset and unsettled.
Despite the fact that her mother hadn’t been the most maternal of women, Charity found herself wishing she was still alive so that she could ask for her advice. As silly as it sounded, right now she could use a hug from her mother. Or an aunt. Even a long-lost cousin would be good.
She walked into City Hall and started up the stairs. At the top, she passed Marsha, walking out of the break room with a cup of coffee.
“How was your lunch?” the mayor asked.
“Good. Pia’s always fun.”
“She is. She was a bit of a terror when she was younger.” Marsha frowned. “What’s that expression? She was a mean girl.”
“Pia?” Charity couldn’t imagine it.
“She was pretty and popular and wanted her way. Not a good combination in a teenager. But she turned out well.” Marsha sipped her coffee. “Is everything all right? I don’t mean to pry, but you look…I’m not sure. If I had to pick, I would say you look sad.”
Charity forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Missing my mom, a little. She died several years ago. I guess that’s something you never get over.”
Marsha stiffened and the color drained from her face.
Charity moved toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Of course. The loss of a mother is always tragic. I still miss mine and she’s been gone over thirty years.” Marsha squared her shoulders. “Charity, would you please come with me into my office.”
“Sure.”
Charity followed her. Something was
