Page 29 of One Kind Hand

“I’ll take my chances.” She broke off a small piece of bacon, but when Berto made a dive for her lap to get it, she held it out of reach and situated him back on his own chair. “Manners, Berto.”

“Good luck with that,” Austin said, but he quickly changed his tune when Charlie got Berto to sit on his rump in his own chair for a solid five count before rewarding him with the bacon. “Wow. You’re a dog whisperer too.”

Charlie peeked over at him. “I’m many things.” She repeated the exercise with Berto, loving how Austin watched her so intently. She wished she could hear his thoughts.

Good thing he couldn’t hear hers though. He’d be treated to a loop of I want you that wouldn’t quit. When he’d asked her if she was hungry, she’d almost told him exactly what she was hungry for and marched him down to that master bedroom she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. Last night, all she’d done was picture what could have happened if she hadn’t left to go on that rescue. She’d envisioned the best sex of her life. She also would have skipped the bruised elbow which hurt more today than it had yesterday.

And would she have stayed the night and avoided the early morning phone call from her father? That would have been a nice bonus. She’d told him about coming into some extra money that she’d like to spend on a better ramp for their house. She’d expected him to be grateful. Her expectations hadn’t been met.

Again.

“I don’t want some permanent ramp screwing up the house,” her father had said.

“But the makeshift one you have now is dangerous. It’s going to fall apart, Dad. Mom could get hurt.”

“You saying I don’t know how to build shit?”

And it’d only taken three seconds to have her father feel insulted because she wanted to help. God, these conversations were always so exhausting.

“I wasn’t saying that, Dad.” She’d drawn in a deep breath, trying to dig up some patience. “I was merely saying we can afford to build something sturdier.”

“What’s the point? Your mother doesn’t go anywhere. I barely go anywhere besides work.”

“With a new ramp, maybe you would go out more because it would be easier to get Mom in and out.”

“Easier.” He’d made a disgusted sound. “Nothing’s easy over here.”

That comment had pissed Charlie off because she’d suggested about a billion ways to lighten the load and her father always told her they were fine. They weren’t fine. She knew that. But she also was tired of arguing.

She’d hung up feeling like crap. Even as she’d driven into Montpelier to have breakfast with Austin, she hadn’t been able to shake the darkness that had settled over her.

Until Berto had given her all the love and she’d gotten an eyeful of her favorite movie star. Hard to stay in a bad mood when the French toast was perfect and the scenery was handsome beyond words.

“Didn’t run into any mountain monsters last night?” she asked, giving Berto one more hit of bacon before eating some herself.

“No mountain monsters, but I still didn’t sleep that well.”

Her gaze flitted up to meet his. “That big bed not as comfy as it looks?”

He took a sip from a tall glass of orange juice then shook his head. “The bed was fine. My overactive imagination was the problem.”

“Is that right?” Holy shit. “I may have had a similar problem.”

“Is that right?” His blue eyes widened a bit. “Must have been something in the sauce on those pulled pork sandwiches yesterday.”

“Some hallucinogens perhaps,” Charlie said. “We should be more careful about what we eat.”

“Hopefully this breakfast food is safe.” Austin waved his fork over the table.

“Hopefully.”

“Otherwise we may have to find a way to fight off the effects.”

“Can’t have too many sleepless nights,” Charlie said. “Be bad for your movie career.”

“And chopper pilots probably should be well rested.”

“No doubt.” They stared at each other for a few charged seconds and Charlie contemplated climbing across her French toast to eat Austin for breakfast.