Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(55)
Beau had driven separate and must’ve beaten me here by several minutes as he already held a red cup in his hand, the sound of ice hitting the side of the cup audible as he jostled it.
I stood from the car, my hands lifting and falling to my thighs. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“It’s a lot. But you got to admit, Charlotte did wonders with no notice and a shit situation. Don’t be mad at her.”
Shaking my head, I glanced at the sky. “I’m not mad. I’m . . .”
“What?”
“Impressed.”
Beau grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good. That’s good.”
“But Beau”—I tilted my head toward the lemonade stand—“do you think that’s okay?”
“What? The kids? They’re having a great time.”
“No, I mean, do you think Charlotte will get in trouble?” I lowered my voice. “Bringing them around here?” When his forehead wrinkled, I added, “Her ex’s family, the in-laws, they’re not what I would call scrupulous people. Do you think if word got back to them that her kids were here, she’d find herself in front of a judge, fighting for custody again?”
Beau scratched his jaw, peering at me like I wasn’t someone he recognized. “Hank, given everything that’s gone wrong today, this is what you’re worried about right now? Whether or not Charlotte might get in trouble with her ex’s family for having her kids here?”
I nodded, seeing no reason to deflect. “I went to school with the Buckleys. They’re a bunch of stuffy assholes. And—don’t ask me how I know this—Charlotte had to give up a lot to keep full custody of the kids. I don’t want her to, you know, do anything to jeopardize custody.”
“Evidently, she thinks it’s okay, otherwise she wouldn’t have brought them.”
“But what do you think?” I wanted Beau’s opinion. He was better at gauging polite society stuff than I was. Based on Patty’s assessment on Friday, Beau was probably better at gauging polite society stuff than Charlotte, too.
After a time of simply staring at me, he sighed. “I don’t rightly know, but you make a good point.” Biting his bottom lip, he glanced toward the lemonade stand. “I can, uh, ask Cletus and Jet to swing by, Drew, too. They can act as bouncers so Charlotte can send the kids home. You can donate some of today’s proceeds to charity? Like reading literacy or something similar. That would look good in front of a judge.”
“Yeah. I can do that.”
“I’ll also talk Jackson and some of the deputies into stopping by, having their cars washed. Jedediah Lawson won’t mind bringing over a firetruck or two. If the Buckleys do make a stink, we can say it was for charity and the city had some vehicles washed. That should keep them off Charlotte’s back.”
“Good plan.” I gathered a deep breath, taking another look around the parking lot now that I could see past my worry for Charlotte. “Hey, speaking of, where is Charlotte?”
“She’s over there with your new bartender.” Beau pointed toward the front of The Pink Pony.
My eyes followed and I immediately straightened, devouring the sight of Charlotte’s exposed midriff, black sports bra with a zipper down the front, T-shirt draped over one shoulder, and her long, tight, black leggings. She also wore sunglasses, looking like a boss and telling everyone what to do while wearing a dazzling smile.
While I gaped, Beau said something about Shelly stopping by, or that he would be heading inside to work on the AC, or that aliens had just landed. Whatever. I wasn’t listening.
My feet carried me over to Charlotte as all my previous worries and fleeting indignation fled my brain, eclipsed by a corporeal response to the magnetic vision before me. Jesus F. Christ, this woman. Calling the shots, bossing everyone around, turning the day’s lemons into lemonade and inviting her kids over to sell it.
My breath hot in my lungs, I drew closer, gazing at her gorgeous, brilliant, determined features. Did she ever stop making the best out of every shitty situation? I wouldn’t be surprised if she could spin gold from straw. What would it take to halt the hurricane of optimism, hard work, and competence that was Charlotte Mitchell?
And why was this version of her so fucking sexy?
“There you are,” she said suddenly, her face pointed in my direction. Handing a phone and clipboard over to Louis and leaving him with a line of waiting patrons, she marched over to me.
As soon as she made it within arm’s reach, but before I could say a word, she grabbed my elbow and tugged me to a small copse of trees just off the parking lot. Once we were under the shade, she took off my sunglasses, hooked them into my shirt, and whipped out a bottle of sunscreen from someplace unknown. She flipped open the top and proceeded to squeeze out a quantity of white liquid. Without asking, she smeared it on my face.
Any residual questions I’d wanted to ask dissipated as her hands moved over my skin.
“Did you bring a swimsuit? I told Beau to make sure you brought one.” Her capable, strong palms slid to my neck. “Shelly said she’d grab one of hers for me. I should’ve just had my momma bring one when she brought the kids.”
I sucked in air, my lips parting as I stared down at her lovely upturned face, her cheeks flushed red from the heat, her intelligent eyes barely visible behind her glasses. She focused solely on the progress of lotion being slathered over my features.