The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc #3)(26)
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
"And you're sweaty," she replied with a smile.
"I hold you responsible," he said, laughing.
Before long, Jack had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and Charlotte lay awake, wondering what she was doing. Why had she let herself think that this one night, as wonderful as it had been, wouldn't be awkward between them for the rest of the eighteen months she had signed up for as soon as the sun rose? She wondered if she should sneak out of bed, grab her clothes and just leave.
She looked at Jack. What would he think if he woke up in the morning and she wasn't there? Would he be upset? Relieved? Would he even care either way? Charlotte turned these questions over in her head again and again as the night slowly dragged by.
At least he looked like he was enjoying whatever dream he was having. Charlotte noted the way the edge of his mouth curled up into a little grin as he slept.
She ran her finger down the center of Jack's chest, and he startled her by reflexively rolling over in response. He gave a sigh before mumbling something unintelligible to the other side of the bed, still deep asleep.
Hoping to get him to repeat his reaction, Charlotte moved her nails lightly down Jack's back. He rolled in bed until his chest was pressed against her again and whispered one more time.
"Charlotte," he mumbled, still smiling.
She couldn't help but smile too. He was dreaming of her.
Chapter 10
When Charlotte woke the next morning, Jack was gone, and she was alone in his house.
He left a note on the door apologizing for sneaking off to work so early, saying she looked too peaceful and happy to wake. The post script let her know that the cleaning lady arrived at noon, and that Charlotte should take the opportunity to explore the grounds.
She slipped back into her dress from the night before. If she was going to stay here more often, she'd have to bring some clothes. She'd need a dresser or a closet. For the first time, she realized that this would soon be her home.
She walked from room to room in the bright morning light wondering what to do with her day. Now that she was engaged to Jack, she couldn't just find herself a job. She had to leave her schedule open for him. She had to be ready at a moment's notice. She wondered if she'd be able to have a job at all when they were married.
Admiring the way the light fell across the lavishly decorated bedrooms and studies, she found her way down to the kitchen, which looked out over the back yard through a wall of sliding glass doors. The gleaming appliances and cool stone countertops looked incredible, and as Charlotte's stomach grumbled, she wondered if she could actually use the kitchen for herself. It was only half past nine, but she was famished. If it were the weekend, she'd have walked down to the farmer's market on Wisconsin, even in her dress from the night before.
To Charlotte's surprise, the pantry and fridge were fully stocked, overflowing with fruits and vegetables, strawberries, raspberries, apples and oranges, even fresh rhubarb. That's it, she thought, I'll make Jack a rhubarb pie. She pulled out her phone and called her mother.
"Hey mom," she said, "I need some help with a recipe of yours."
Charlotte had never been much of a cook or a baker, but she wanted to do something special for Jack. She wanted to let him know that she had listened to everything he had said and that she was there for him. The pie seemed like a good way to do that. Of course, first she'd actually have to bake the damn thing.
Halfway through the process, as she stared at the mess she had made of the kitchen — mixing bowls tossed left and right, flour seemingly everywhere — she wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew, but she stuck with it. Two hours later, after using up most of Jack's flour on scrapped attempts to crimp the edge of her crust with a fork, she had a nearly perfect pie in the oven. She brushed off a bit of flour that had somehow made it to her shoulder, wondered how she had ever managed to make such a mess of the kitchen, and headed upstairs to shower while the pie baked.
After the requisite cooling time and a quick stop at her apartment to change clothes, Charlotte hopped in a cab and headed to the House office buildings on Independence Avenue, almost-uncomfortably-warm pie in hand. She felt triumphant. The pie looked beautiful, her white dress with pink polka dots looked adorable, and she was ready to make her fiancé's day.
After slowly making her way through security and getting lost trying to find Jack's office, she finally arrived. She marched up to the young, blonde woman at the reception desk.
"Charlotte Crowley, I'm here to see Jack. I mean, Congressman Coburn," she said. "I'm his fiancée." She held up the hand with her ring on it, hoping this would give the receptionist extra incentive to help her.
"The congressman is out of the office today, but if you'll take a seat, I'll see if his assistant can help you in any way," the woman said.
Charlotte took a seat and waited. And she waited a while longer. After what felt like an hour, the receptionist returned.
"Do you know where Jack is? I could just head over there instead," Charlotte suggested. The pie in her lap felt significantly cooler than when she had arrived.
"The congressman's assistant will see you now."
Charlotte couldn't help feeling out of her league. So even out of all the receptionists and staffers, apparently Charlotte was the only one in the room not allowed to know where her fiancé was.