Page 37 of One More Time

Charlie felt a surge of undying love – she belonged within his arms. He brought his hand to her cheek and traced the soft line of her jaw then, little by little, he trailed a finger down her neck and over her collarbone. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tipped her head back, inviting more of this, of him. Not needing any further invitation, he slowly brought his mouth to her lips, enticing a shiver of anticipation from her. Longing spread through him, sparking his soul, igniting his heart – she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Virility fired his manhood, and he realised he hadn’t felt like a man for way too long, nor had he made her feel like the desirable woman she most certainly was. Somewhere, somehow, they’d lost each other and, in turn, lost them. He had a deep sense that from this moment on, their lives were going to be equivocally changed in the most powerful of ways.

He lightly kissed her neck, right where he knew it drove her wild. ‘I’m madly in love with you, my gorgeous wife,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘And I can’t wait to get you home, so I can show you just how much.’

‘I’m deeply in love with you, my handsome husband,’ she whispered against his chest. She glanced up. ‘And I can’t wait for you to show me.’ Her smile was slow and sexy then, turning her cheek, she pressed closer to him.

With his hands pressing into the dip of her lower back, Charlie rested his chin against her hair as he savoured the scent of her hair and the feel of her against him – she belonged in his arms. They belonged together.

When the slow song ended, it took a moment for him to slip back into reality. ‘I’m just going to nip to the bathroom.’

‘Okay.’ She nodded, her face flushed. ‘I’ll be right here, waiting for you.’

Not wanting to let go of her hand, he took steps away, but teetered, leaving just their fingers touching. Their fingertips slipped away as he sauntered from the dance floor, through the crowd gathered at the bar and behind the floor-to-ceiling fish tank. He’d forgotten just how fun his and Grace’s relationship could be, and he wanted more of this. From now on, he’d make sure they had a date night once a month. It wasn’t a luxury, it was a necessity – their marriage deserved it.

To his frustration, he was met with a line of men needing the toilet just as much as he did, and it was ten minutes before he returned, weaving through the thick of the crowd. The sight he was met with stopped him dead in his tracks – his sworn enemy on his home territory. Rodger Burrows moved quickly – he’d give him that. Charlie watched, temper flaring, as the wretched man twirled his wife around the dance floor. And Grace’s smile, that radiant smile she’d only ever saved for him, was shining on that worthless scum. Jealousy gripped his insides as he saw Rodger lean into her ear and whisper something. Her head tilting back, Grace met Rodger’s predatory gaze for a breath then, with a blink of her lashes, swirled around, laughing.

Charlie’s hands balled into fists at his sides as red rage shot through him. This was meant to be a night for them, for him to prove to Grace he was still the man she married. He felt as if he’d just been given a swift kick to the gut. The world beneath his feet tilted on its axis as he tried to piece the puzzle together. Grace and Rodger’s relationship had not always been platonic, even Blind Freddie would be able to see that. And he didn’t like being made a fool of. What hadn’t Grace told him? What was she hiding? What did Rodger know that he didn’t? He’d never asked because he’d always been so wrapped up in their other problems, or wanting to avoid adding to them. But in this very moment, he felt cheated, insignificant, rejected. And instead of dealing with those unwanted emotions, he did the only thing he knew and ordered a shot of tequila. Followed by another. And another, all the while fuming that Grace hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone for almost twenty-five minutes.

When somebody’s elbow knocked his fourth shot down the front of him, he cursed out loud and decided he wasn’t going to stand there and watch them carry on any longer. With the burn of the alcohol fuelling him into recklessness, he pushed off from the bar and stormed toward them. Bumping a few people along the way, he didn’t even think to apologise – his entire focus was on his detonation point. Gritting his teeth, his jaw muscles clenched, it was all he could do not to give Rodger a left hook to his jaw. Instead, he grabbed Grace’s arm, yanking her out of Rodger’s reach.

‘What do you think you’re doing, Charlie?’ Grace demanded, her cheeks aflame. ‘Well?’

His alcohol-fuelled bluster disintegrated under her glare. ‘I want to dance with my wife,’ he finally groused. ‘Is there something wrong with that?’

‘Too bad, because I don’t want to dance with you.’ She pulled her wrist from his grasp and, leaning into him, sniffing his shirt. ‘Have you been drinking?’

He felt like an absolute chump, but he wasn’t about to own up to drinking in front of Rodger. ‘No.’

Grace regarded him intently. ‘I can see it in your eyes, Charlie.’ She huffed and shook her head. ‘You’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.’

‘Grace, please …’ Dread fuelled his pulse to a wild frenzy. ‘I’m not going home without you.’

She folded her arms tightly. ‘Why, don’t you trust me?’ Her slitted gaze warned him not to test her.

Even though he trusted her with his life, Charlie stubbornly remained tight-lipped. If only he could rewind the last half an hour.

‘Come on, Charles, everything’s above board here.’ Rodger’s voice carried over Charlie’s shoulder. ‘I’m a married man, too, mate.’ He waggled his wedding finger in Charlie’s face. ‘No need to get all antsy.’

Charlie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mate…antsy.

What the hell?

Charlie turned and fixed his steely gaze on Rodger. ‘Stay away from her, you hear me, Burrows?’ He prodded a finger into Rodger’s chest to hit his demand home. ‘Because I don’t care if you’re married or not, I don’t bloody trust you.’

‘You don’t need to trust me.’ Rodger offered his usual sly smirk and lowered his voice. ‘I would never do anything Grace didn’t want me to, Charles.’

‘It’s Charlie, you shit-stirring bastard.’ Charlie shoved him backward. ‘Now bugger off before I wallop you one.’

Recovering quickly, Rodger rose to the challenge, his fists at the ready. ‘Come on then, Wilson. It’s about time we got this over with.’

‘Rodger, for god’s sake, stop it.’ Grace dived in between the two men. ‘Charlie, that’s enough of this nonsense.’

‘I’ll say when enough is enough, Grace.’ Charlie’s temper raised another few notches – why didn’t she understand what this was doing to him? ‘He’s had this coming for years.’

‘You’re unbelievable! And just when I thought we’d turned a corner.’ Flashing him one last look of disappointment, she stormed toward the exit.

Disregarding his foolish battle with Rodger, Charlie took off after her. The cool air hit him like the firm slap to the face he probably deserved, the sensation somewhat sobering him. Grace was already halfway up the street, nearing where they’d parked, her heels clip-clopping on the cobblestones of Romance Avenue.

‘Grace, stop, please.’ He had to apologise. Had to try and make this right.