Revel (Second Chance Romance #1)(24)

And anyway, it looked like he had a wife now. The older blonde that had left his house earlier. Or maybe she was a friend. Either way, it wasn’t her business.

Charlotte sighed and looked at the clock. It was afternoon. The stress of everything that had happened in her life recently was taking a toll. She was tired. It was time for a nap.

Maybe when she woke up she’d find out she’d only dreamt of him. Again.

********

Declan took a long shower. He most often had his best ideas in the shower and he hoped the incredible water pressure of his new home would help him decide what he should do about Charlotte. But it didn’t. He stood under the water until it turned cold and he still didn’t know what the hell to do.

“This is ridiculous,” he said out loud to himself. “I should just go over there and acknowledge her. See what her husband looks like. Try to break the ice and cut through the awkward.”

But she’d run away! Fled from him without shoes on her feet. He’d watched her perfect ass trudge through the sand so she could get away from him. So, clearly, just going over to her house and saying hello wasn’t an option.

Maybe he’d write her a letter. Put it on her door. It was passive-aggressive, which was completely not his style, but he couldn’t get the look on her face out of his mind.

Yet he couldn’t not contact her. Especially if they were neighbors.

He pulled on a pair of shorts and pulled out a notepad from his computer bag.

Charlotte…

********

Charlotte woke up a couple hours later, her head heavy from only having had wine today, and her stomach rumbling from hunger.

I need to order some food, she thought. I’ll go to the store tomorrow.

She padded into the kitchen. The sun was beginning to set. She could hear the waves lapping against the shore. She glanced outside to see who was on the beach. It was empty.

She walked over to the window in the dining room that faced Declan’s house. There was one light on downstairs, the rest of the massive house was dark.

In the kitchen, she went through drawers to see if there were any take out menus. A pizza place was the first one she found.

“Pizza it is,” she decided.

Thirty-five minutes later there was a knock on her door. She was sitting on the couch, her knees tucked under her while she absent-mindedly watched a reality show featuring squawking housewives.

She jumped when she heard the knock and then slowly walked to the front door.

She was relieved to see it was just a young man with floppy hair and a greasy cardboard pizza box in his arms.

“Hello,” he grumbled. “It’ll be fifteen oh seven.”

“Sure,” she said, handing him a twenty. “Keep the change.”

This elicited a broad smile from the young man, “Hey thanks! Oh, by the way, this envelope was stuck to your door. It fell off when I knocked, sorry.”

Charlotte’s stomach dropped. She took the pizza and the envelope, which said Charlotte on the front of it.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “Have a good night.”

“You too, ma’am!” he said, stumbling down the steps and back to his Honda Civic hatchback.

Charlotte closed the door behind her and walked slowly back to the kitchen. She placed the pizza on the counter, suddenly not so hungry.

She knew instinctively it was from him.

She tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of yellow paper, the kind torn from a notepad. It shook in her hand as she read his slanted and still sloppy handwriting.



Charlotte…

You ran away before I could say anything, not that I would have known what to say. Seeing you here was one of the biggest shocks of my life, and clearly it was for you too. It’s been so long… I can’t pretend the thought of you hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two hundred. This wasn’t how I would have wanted to run into you. Is it possible we can run into one another again? Catch up a bit? I would love to talk to you, though I know I don’t deserve any sort of conversation with you. But I also didn’t want to just show up and upset you. So I will leave the ball in your court. I live here now… It’s a long story, but I’m here for now. I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but if it’s for a while, it’s probably best we talk so neither of us has to feel awkward. All I want is for you to be happy. I hope you are.

-Declan



Charlotte could barely read his signature by the end. Everything was a blur through the tears.





Ten Years Earlier…


“What should I wear?”

Charlotte stood in front of the full-length mirror next to her closet clad in only a lacy pair of underwear and bra.

Declan walked over to her, bending down to kiss her neck while his hands roamed over her body, “Nothing at all. That always looks best on you.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and swatted him away, “Seriously. I want to make the right impression on your parents. I don’t want them to think I’m some harlot that’s shacking up on their property.”

“Harlot? Who uses that word?” he laughed as he grabbed her waist and spun her around. “Wear whatever you want. It’s not anything formal. It’s just a regular dinner at the DeGraff house.”

“As if anything about your family is ‘regular’,” she retorted. “You live in a house that’s on the National Historic Register. You have a live-in maid. This is not the typical family I’m meeting here.”