Page 20 of One More Time

Oh god.

It was as if a vortex had unlocked beneath the carpet and was about to suck him into another dimension. He grabbed the edges of the table to save himself from collapsing to the floor. It was the strangest feeling he’d ever encountered, and that was saying a lot, considering he’d been shot at, concussed, and experienced the suction of air being stolen from his lungs when bomb blasts had gone off.

For god’s sake, Wilson, pull yourself together.

Grace’s pretty face came into sharp focus once again. ‘Charlie, are you okay?’ Her eyes teary, she was now where he always liked her to be – by his side.

Mentally, he seized the nervous tension spiralling through him, wrapped it into a controllable ball and pushed it down. Then he finally managed to force a smile. ‘Sorry, yes, Grace. I’m more than okay.’ He stood now, taking her into his arms. ‘I’m just overjoyed I’ve made you so happy, because that’s all that matters to me.’

Breathing her scent in, he treasured the feeling of her arms wrapped around him and her cheek pressed against his chest.

Grace looked up at him from beneath her long, dark lashes. ‘You really are one in a million, Charlie Wilson, I’m a very lucky gal to have you give up your passion for me.’

Charlie cupped her cheeks. ‘You, Grace, are my passion.’ In his heart, he knew this was where he belonged, with her. Always.

He just wished his head would get the memo.

* * *

With the rotating disco ball sparkling flickering diamantes across the packed dance floor of the Confetti nightclub, the strobe light creating cool effects and KC and the Sunshine Band’s song, ‘(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty’, belting from the sound system, Charlie spun Grace in dizzying circles as they grooved like nobody was watching. Pulling his best disco moves, he enjoyed how he could make her smile just by allowing himself to feel effortlessly free. It wasn’t hard – it was so easy to be lighthearted around her. And by god, he loved making her happy.

As the song came to an end, Grace waved her hand over her face. ‘I think I need a drink and a little sit down, Charlie, before I pass out.’

His throat parched, Charlie was more than happy to oblige, so he took her by the hand and they all but skipped toward the bar. ‘I’ll have a Tom Collins, please, and a tequila sunrise for my lady,’ he hollered over the music to the barman leaning in his direction.

Grace slipped up on the only vacant barstool, and he stood protectively beside her. ‘I’m having so much fun.’ She leant in and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you for always making me feel so special.’

He went to respond with, my pleasure, when a hand reached through the crowd and grabbed Grace’s arm, and her undivided attention. She appeared shell-shocked, but recovered quickly. ‘Holy moly, Rodger!’ She slipped off the chair while staring at Charlie’s high school nemesis. ‘You’re back from your adventure.’

Charlie stood, speechless, as Rodger slipped his arms around Grace’s waist and lifted her from the floor. What in the hell? Jealously gripped him like a vice. Had he missed something significant in the six years he’d been away? They seemed very friendly, to say the least.

As Grace’s kitten heels came back to the floor, she spun to Charlie. ‘Rodger, you remember Charlie Wilson, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do, how could I forget him?’ A smug smirk at the corners of his lips, Rodger offered his hand. ‘Nice to see you again, Charles.’

Rodger knew exactly how much he hated being called Charles, but Charlie bit his tongue as he gripped Rodger’s hand excessively firmly and said, ‘You too, Rodger.’

He looked from Rodger Burrows to Grace, noting the slight quiver in her lips. She hadn’t told him something important – he could see it in her darting eyes. So, before he said anymore, to either of them, he needed to calmly evaluate the situation, be it harmless, or hazardous. It was an inbuilt trait, learnt from all his years hunting the enemy, and one that came in handy even in civilian life.

As if sensing Charlie’s cautious examination of him, Rodger gingerly shoved his hands into the pockets of his bell-bottom jeans then offered a strained smile. ‘You good, Wilson?’ His Adam’s apple bobbed unnaturally. ‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’ He chuckled but sounded as though he were being strangled.

Charlie wasn’t ready to respond. Had something happened between the two, after he’d left town? Charlie didn’t like the thought, not one little bit.

A lengthy silence ensued.

Back on her stool, Grace fidgeted with the strap of her handbag, looking terribly uncomfortable, so Charlie chose to break the awkward silence before he embarrassed her any further. ‘Where have you just gotten back from, Rodger?’

Rodger’s gaze was transfixed on Grace, who was now staring at the floor as if it were an object of great fascination, and he took a second to snap his steely gaze back to Charlie’s. ‘I arrived home yesterday, from my year travelling Europe.’

Charlie was fighting the urge to show Rodger just how easy it was to keep his eyes to himself by giving the man a firm clout across the jaw. ‘Right, and how long are you back for?’ Charlie’s tone was stone cold.

‘Permanently.’ Rodger smiled now, but not in a friendly kind of way. ‘I’ve gotten the travel bug out of my system, and am ready to put down roots here.’ He looked to Grace, as if keen to hear her thoughts on this.

Sensing both men’s attention on her, Grace offered a slight smile. ‘That’s wonderful news, Rodger. Your mother will be so relieved.’

‘She sure is, and Dad’s pretty happy too.’

The odd connection between the two was like a sucker-punch to Charlie’s chest. Why did he feeling so threatened? ‘What are you going to be doing for work, now that you’re home to stay?’ Charlie really didn’t care, but wanted to steer the conversation.