Pucked Love (Pucked, #6)(21)

Her front walk is lined with pretty flowers in a variety of colors, but yellow seems to dominate, along with some purple and white, so the ones I’ve chosen should go over well. I hope.

Maybe she’s in the bath. That would be nice. I like Charlene fresh from the bath. She’ll be relaxed. I could let myself in since I have a key, but I rarely come to Charlene. My house is more convenient, and my bedroom is much better equipped for sex and sleepovers. And since I’m surprising her, I figure it’s a good idea to knock and wait to be let in, setting a precedent and all.

Charlene opens the door the requisite three inches the chain latch allows. Her hazel eye widens. “Darren? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Her hand flutters to her throat.

Hmm. I expected a slightly different reaction. “Can I come in? Have I caught you at a bad time?”

“What? Oh! No. Yes, I mean. You can come in. Just a sec.” The door closes and the sound of the latch disengaging follows. A few seconds later she opens it again and steps back to allow me inside.

“This is a surprise.” She pulls at the bottom of her shirt with one hand and pats her hair again with the other.

“That was my intention.”

I look her over. She’s wearing a pair of teal leggings covered in a donut print and a pale purple tank with a donut on the front holding a cup of coffee. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her face is free of makeup. She’s not wearing socks. Her toes are naked apart from the big one on the right foot, which is painted the same shade of purple as her tank. I don’t believe she’s wearing a bra based on her perky nipples.

Her gaze darts down where my hands are tucked behind my back in an attempt to conceal the massive bouquet of flowers and the box of chocolates. Actually, there are two boxes of chocolates since ginger chocolate and mint chocolate should be separated, according to the lady who assisted me.

I reveal the bouquet of flowers first.

Charlene blinks several times, eyes darting from the flowers to my face and back again. “You brought me flowers?”

“I did.” I’m not sure what kind of response I expected, but again, this isn’t quite it. She seems shocked. “Should I not have?”

“What? Oh! I, uh . . . they’re just . . .” She traces the satiny petals. “So beautiful.”

“Yes. Like you.”

A soft smile lights up her face. I wonder at her sweetly unguarded surprise. I’m certain I tell her she’s beautiful all the time. I know I think it every single time I see her. Maybe the words get stuck in my head and never actually make it out of my mouth.

“You can take them. They’re for you.”

Charlene’s bun flops around as she gives her head a little shake and takes the bouquet. “Oh, wow, this is heavy.” She buries her nose in the blossoms and inhales deeply. I want to frame the image.

“I brought you something else as well.” I hold out the Godiva bag.

Charlene’s expression shifts to childlike excitement. “You brought me flowers and chocolate?”

“I did.” I smile. “And based on the samples the saleswoman provided, I will attest that they’re delicious—just like you, as well.”

My smile widens at her blush.

“This is really sweet of you, and very unexpected,” Charlene clutches the flowers and chocolates to her chest. “Um, I should go upstairs and change and then put these in some water.” She makes a move toward the kitchen, which she’ll have to pass through to get to her bedroom.

“No! I mean, I like you exactly as you are.”

She glances down at her outfit.

“Please don’t change on my account. I’m rather fond of this.” I skim the strap of her tank and watch goose bumps rise along her arm. “Why don’t I help you put the flowers in water, and you can try the chocolate? Unless you have plans this evening?”

“I don’t have any plans.”

“So it would be okay for me to stay and spend some time with you.” I shake my head at how awkward I sound. “That was meant to be a question.”

Charlene bites her bottom lip. “You can stay and spend some time with me, if you want.”

“Yes. I want.” I nod, then realize I haven’t completed the thought. “To spend time with you.”

I retrieve a vase from Charlene’s pantry and help her arrange the flowers. She has trouble deciding where she wants them, and eventually settles on the kitchen table, which she can see from the living room and the front door.

Charlene’s house is small, as one might expect for a single woman living on her own. She makes good money as an accountant for sports professionals, but she’s still managing all of her costs on a single income, which is why I insisted on giving her a credit card to make special purchases.

She adjusts the vase, turning it half an inch to the right and then to the left, determining placement. Her ass looks fantastic in leggings, and I decide I need to find out where she gets them so I can buy some for her, and she can wear them more often.

When she comes to my place, her visits are always arranged in advance, which means her makeup is flawless and she’s impeccably dressed. But I like this version of her as well. She looks relaxed and comfortable, something I would like to experience more of.