“I’d like that.” He leaned down and kissed her again, holding her face in both hands and enjoying the way she kissed him back. Just as he started to feel out of control, he broke their kiss.
“All right. I’m going to be late for work.” He fell back a couple of steps, needing to be in a bigger space when it came to being alone with Charlotte. “I’ll call you later? You’ll tell me how it goes with Claudia Gray?”
She nodded, waved at him, and turned back to the windows before he left the bedroom. Once in the safety of his truck, Dawson blew the breath all the way out of his lungs. When he inhaled again, a smile filled his whole face.
“You’ve got yourself a girlfriend,” he said, a definite note of happiness in his voice. For the first time in years—since Janet—Dawson felt like he’d done something right.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte set the plate of doughnuts in the middle of the table. The green folder sat in front of her place, and Ash had just confirmed that she’d be arriving in ten minutes. Claudia and her mother shouldn’t be there for another thirty, so there was time.
She just wanted the meeting to be over. Then maybe her stomach would go back to normal instead of trying to flip itself inside out. Then maybe she could eat one of the doughnuts Dawson had brought and enjoy it.
After moving to the doorway, she turned and surveyed her office. It smelled like flowers, mangoes, and sugar, perfect for a meeting. It looked warm and inviting from the sunshine coming through the windows.
“Good morning.”
Charlotte spun at the sound of Hope’s voice and lifted her hand to take the coffee the owner extended toward her. “Thanks. Good morning.” She sipped from the to-go cup, but there wasn’t enough sweetener to make the liquid palatable. She gave Hope a tight smile and said, “I think we’re ready.”
“Do you want me to sit in with you?”
No, Charlotte did not want that. She was nervous enough already, but she said, “Sure, if you’d like.”
Hope’s phone chimed and she looked at it. “Oh, I can’t. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.” She glanced around Charlotte’s office again. “Are those from Nuts About Dough?” Without waiting for an answer, she moved into the office and plucked a doughnut from the plate. “They are. I love these things.”
She grinned at Charlotte as she passed, and Charlotte grinned back like everything was right in the world. Then she stepped over to her desk and pulled out a few extra packets of sugar she kept in the top drawer. She doctored up her coffee and rearranged the doughnuts so it didn’t look like someone had taken one already.
“Morning.” Ashley walked in, her silvery, purple hair the healthiest Charlotte had ever seen. She carried an armful of fabrics, with something clenched in her fist underneath most of it. Relief rumbled through her. She wouldn’t be alone in this meeting, and Ash exuded grace and charm.
“Hey, Ash.” Charlotte gave her a quick hug. “Do you need help with the samples? Give me something.”
Ash passed over the armful of white clothes and put her own coffee on the table. “Let’s get those on your desk.”
“I thought she’d picked the fabric.”
“She changed her mind.” Ash gave Charlotte a look and turned to lay out the samples. “She wanted to see them in person before making a firm commitment.”
“We need to make sure she knows once she decides, she can’t change her mind.”
“She’s Claudia Gray,” Ash said, her cute little pencil skirt showing her narrow waist and shapely legs. “She can do whatever she wants. And she will.” She pressed her lips together and put on another layer of clear gloss. “All right. Ready.”
“Miss Madsen? Claudia and Petra Gray are here.”
“Thanks, Riley.” Charlotte took a deep breath and met Ash’s eye. “Here we go.” She walked out of her office and into the lobby, where Claudia had just seated herself. “I’m Charlotte Madsen.” She extended her hand to the older woman. “You must be Petra.” She put a healthy smile on her face she hoped didn’t look too plastic and shook the woman’s hand. “And Claudia, our bride-to-be.”
Claudia stood, elegant and long. Ash was right. She’d do whatever she wanted, and Charlotte would let her. She smiled and gave Charlotte a hug, which felt a bit awkward. Charlotte gestured to them. “Come on back. We’re in my office.”
She held the door for them like she was a valet and closed it behind them once they’d entered.
“Oh, I love these.” Claudia took a doughnut and put it on one of the small plates beside the tray. “Want to split one, Mom?”
“We better,” she said. “You don’t want to put on too much weight before the wedding.”
Charlotte almost stumbled over her feet, but she managed to keep clicking her way to her chair in front of the green folder. “This is Ashley Fox, your dress designer.”
“Oh.” Claudia dropped the doughnut and embraced Ash too. “I’m so glad to meet you.”
“And you.” She shook Petra’s hand and produced a plastic knife for them to cut their doughnut into two. While everyone got settled, Charlotte took in deep breaths through her nose and pushed them out.
“All right,” she said. “Shall we start with the sketches?”
Claudia had a mouthful of doughnut, but she nodded. Charlotte flipped open the green folder and spread out three pieces of paper. Ash started explaining the differences in the dresses, and she pointed to the corners where she’d listed the materials she thought would work best.
Petra had so much to say, and most of it sounded like a complaint. The waist on that one would make Claudia look like an insect. The flare on the other one needed to be bigger. The bodice on the third will have to be adjusted because Claudia is so small-chested.
Charlotte actually sucked in a breath at that comment and watched Claudia absorb the insult as if it were nothing. She polished off the doughnut and Charlotte could’ve imagined the glance down to her small chest.
She pointed at the second one. “Tell me about the fabrics for this one. I like lacy stuff, but I want to be traditional too.”
“No, she doesn’t want traditional,” Petra said.
“Yes, Mother, I do. But I want modern too.”
Ash stood and moved over to the desk. “If you want to come over here, I’ll show you some options for that design.” She spoke about the empire waistline on it, and what kind of fabrics worked best with that. Charlotte joined her, not quite sure how to help but willing to do whatever it took.
“I don’t see how you can be modern and elegant at the same time,” Petra said, clearly in a huff.
“See how this one has a sheen?” Ash picked up a silky piece of fabric and extended it to Claudia to feel. “That will reflect sunlight on the beach.” She handed the fabric to Charlotte, who held it out and tilted it until the sun caught it, making it almost a pearly pink.
“It’s very popular right now,” Ash said. “Because the color of the dress depends on the light.”
“She wants white,” Petra said as if Claudia wasn’t an adult or even in the room.
Ash waited a beat for Claudia to say something, but she remained quiet. “We can put this lace over the top of it, and that tones down the colors and how modern it makes the dress feel. So this will make it more elegant, a little classier—”
“The waist is too high.” Petra stepped back over to the table and shifted the pages of sketches. “Are you sure this is the one you like?”
Claudia held the lace over the shiny fabric. “What about dress number one?”
Ash went through that one too, and Petra continued to make little jabs, ask endless questions that her daughter ignored, and turn surlier and surlier.
With Charlotte’s patience near the end of its life, and Ash finished showing and explaining everything, it was time to make a decision. Charlotte nudged the doughnuts closer to Claudia again, her own stomach growling as this meeting had taken two hours already.
“All right, ladies. Time to decide. What did you think?”
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Claudia nibbled on a doughnut and said nothing. “Mother, say what you think.”
“I don’t think any of these are the one.” She sat back and crossed her arms, disappointment in the set of her mouth. “And you shouldn’t be eating that doughnut. You’ll never fit into a wedding dress.”
Claudia couldn’t be bigger than a size six, and Charlotte wanted to rage at Petra. “Well, I think if you don’t pick today, you might have to postpone the wedding a bit. Ash will need time to do more designs, and we’ll have to meet again, and—”
“We’re not postponing,” Claudia said, finishing her bite of pastry and leaning forward. “I want this one.” She pointed to the third sketch. “And I want it in charmeuse, with the Chantilly lace on the bodice, as you suggested.”
Ash made a few notes on her tablet and smiled at Claudia. “It’s going to be perfect. Will you need a veil?”
“She’s doing a flower crown,” Charlotte said.
Claudia smiled and sat back, her gray eyes sparkling as she took another bite of her doughnut. Petra still had not touched her half.
“Charmeuse?” she asked. No one answered her.
“Let’s get the measurements,” Ash said. “And you guys will be done. I’ll get this made, and call you for a fitting.” She pulled out a measuring tape and instructed Claudia how to stand. Ash worked with quick movements, clearly a professional tailor.
Once finished, Charlotte walked Petra and Claudia out and returned to her office. She once again closed the door before she sank into her chair again and picked up a doughnut. “Oh, my word,” she said. “That mother.”
“Charmeuse?” Ash said in a distasteful tone, and then she laughed. “Honestly, she wasn’t as bad as some I’ve worked with.”
“Really?” That didn’t bode well for Charlotte. She’d been thinking the brides would be more of the monsters she had to deal with.
Ash gathered up her samples as Charlotte made a few notes herself, put the sketches back in the folder and took a huge bite of the cream-filled doughnut. A moan started in her throat she had zero control over.
“Oh, this is good,” she said around a mouth of food.
Ash laughed, said, “I’ll call you later,” and ducked out of the office.
Charlotte sat there and enjoyed her whole doughnut, thinking her meeting had gone well enough and that she couldn’t wait to tell her boyfriend all about it.
Chapter Twelve
Dawson pulled himself from the waves and trotted over to where his surfboard floated in the shallow water. He picked it up and decided he’d had enough of the waves pounding him for one day.
Maybe if he surfed more often than once or twice a month, he’d be able to stay on his feet for longer than three seconds. He didn’t have to work today—at least not in the cockpit of his helicopter. He had agreed to help Charlotte install a sprinkling system in the backyard today, so he was a bit surprised to see her standing in the shade of the tree behind his house.
“Dawson?” she called, shading her eyes with one hand.
“Hey, babe.” He jogged over to her and brought her close, despite her protests that he was soaking wet. “What are you doing here?” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead.
She stared up at him, a dazed look in her eye, for a few seconds before shaking herself back to normal. “Do you live here?”
“Uh, yeah.” He indicated the trailer with his chin. “That’s me.”
“You have electricity inside that trailer, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He released her and stepped back.
“I like babe better than ma’am.”
He laughed and stepped around her. “So what are you doing here?”
She didn’t follow him but kept looking toward the water’s edge. “How far would you say the water is?”
“I don’t know. Fifty yards?”
“Less than two hundred feet.”
“I guess.” He unzipped his wetsuit and peeled it off his arms, shoulders, and chest. He sank into the hammock and watched Charlotte. She was clearly working through something, and she’d tell him eventually.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, she turned back to him. “I’m working on a proposal for the city council.” She paused, her mouth falling open.
Dawson gazed back at her. “What?”
“One of our brides wants lights at her wedding.” She swallowed and tucked her tablet back into her shoulder bag. “But there’s an ordinance that doesn’t allow for electricity within two hundred feet of the shore.
Dawson glanced back toward the water. “Well, I think I have that.”
“Exactly.”
“So you came down here, to this trailer park, at seven-thirty a.m. for work?” he asked. “And here I thought you’d come to see me.” He grinned at her and patted the hammock.
Charlotte shook her head, but a small smile touched her lips. “You’re soaking wet.”
“I already hugged you. So are you.”
“Plus, you don’t have a shirt on.” She swallowed again, and her eyes raked down his body. Dawson suddenly knew why she’d stopped so far away and stared mutely.
“You want the tour?” he asked, pushing himself out of the hammock. “It’s not much, but hey, I don’t need much.” He walked to the door of the trailer and went up the three steps, squeezing to the side when she followed him.
“This here’s the dining room,” he indicated the table his thigh was touching. “Kitchen straight ahead. Bathroom up there three steps on the right. Bedroom at the end.” His nerves kicked him, and he waited for her to say something.
“It’s nice.” She turned to him. “You should come back to the house.”
“What? No. I’m fine here.” Dawson actually liked the trailer. “Great. I like this place.” And he liked her. He wasn’t going to live with his girlfriend after only a few days. After all, they’d only defined themselves as dating earlier this week.
“You don’t spend any time in this place,” she said.
“Sure I do.” He nodded down the hall. “I sleep right there.” Well, most of the time. He had fallen asleep in the hammock one night, but Charlotte didn’t need to know that. His life felt very simple to him, and a sudden rush of humiliation hit him. “Let’s go back outside.”
He practically herded her back outside, the air suddenly breathable again. The door slammed behind him, and he cringed. “Do you want to hang out here while I get showered?” he asked. “We can grab breakfast on the way back to your place.”
A beat of silence passed and then she nodded. “Sure. But no doughnuts. I gained five pounds from those things.”
Dawson laughed, his head tipping back as he did. “I don’t believe that.” He swept one arm around her waist, still as trim as ever. “You look great to me.”
She put one hand on his bare chest and looked at it before sliding her eyes up to his. He found heat and desire in hers, and she tipped up on her toes to kiss him. Dawson let her set the pace and simply followed her lead. By the time she broke their connection, Dawson’s head swam and he realized he’d pushed his hand up and into her hair, his fingers firmly along the back of her neck.
He dropped his hand and stepped back, clearing his throat. “All right. I’ll go shower. You do your…investigative thing.” He waved his hand around the beach. “The manager’s office is at the end of the road where you came in.”
“I’ll find it.”
He walked away from her, locking himself in his trailer so there wouldn’t be any mishaps with the shower. As he soaped up, he wondered what in the world he was doing. Charlotte was a complex woman, with major baggage from South Carolina, and nowhere near ready to be kissing him like she just had.
She had no idea what she did to him, and he had a feeling this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted it to. Because he wanted her in a white dress, a private wedding ceremony—preferably in the backyard she’d been working on—and then in his bed.
And she didn’t e
ven want to label them as dating.
She did, he told himself. She agreed to it.
But he wondered if she would have ever gotten there if he hadn’t pressed the issue. Said something.
He liked his simple life, in simple housing and a work schedule that took enough mental energy to keep him engaged. A beautiful setting, running on the beach. He had everything he needed.
Dawson dressed, acknowledging the lies as he pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a pale pink T-shirt. He may not have known it five weeks ago, but he definitely did not have everything he needed in his life. Not now that he’d met Charlotte and started to fall for her.
“You’re killing me,” he said when Charlotte said, “Now all we have to do is a concrete curb.”
“What?” she asked, scraping her sweaty bangs off her forehead. He’d never met anyone who worked as hard as her, on something that few people would ever see. He found it inspiring, a bit intimidating, and sexy sexy sexy.
“I’m not doing a concrete curb today.” He raked his fingers through his own sweaty hair. “I need another shower, and something to eat, and—” He silenced when she started laughing.
“Not today, babe.” She leaned into him, a big smile on her face. “And I’ll call someone to come do it. You think I can sculpt a curb by myself?”
He took her into his arms, not a bit bothered by the extra heat, not when it was her. “Honey, I think you can do whatever you set your mind to.”
She beamed up at him, and Dawson wondered if her ex had ever complimented her. She seemed to bask in everything he said, and his heart pinched for her.
“Do you like Getaway Bay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She sighed, stepped away from him, and wandered to the edge of the lawn. She gazed out over the bays, the breeze playing with the ends of her hair that barely reached her collarbone.
He joined her, thankful for the cooling breeze. “I really love it here. Feels like the first place I can call home.”
“Yeah?” She glanced at him. “That surprises me.”