Finally, she slipped on the strapless red sundress and added a hint of lip gloss. Stephen hadn’t liked lipstick of any kind—he said it was too sticky for kissing. The first thing Charlotte had done when she could walk into a store was buy three tubes.
Satisfied with her appearance, she shot a look at the window. Funny how here in the country she relied on the position of the sun to tell her the time of day. The boys would be coming in soon—except Hank. He’d go to the garage and start work on her car.
Guilt flooded. He was working so hard for her. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe the work she was doing for Maggie was equal to the cost of parts and labor. Hank was doing the repairs because he was a nice guy. And when had Charlotte ever had a nice guy?
She went downstairs and grabbed a fresh glass of sweet tea to take to the garage.
* * *
When Hank glanced up, his chest grew too small to contain his hammering heart. Charlotte stood in the doorway, a halo of curls shining above her shoulders, wearing a sexy red dress and bearing a glass of sweet tea.
She met his gaze, and electricity passed between them, snapping so quickly it was dizzying. Her lips fell open in that alluring way he wanted to take advantage of all night.
“I brought you some tea.” She came forward, hand extended.
Hank grabbed a grease rag and wiped most of the oil off his hands. He longed to snag her around the waist and reel her close. God, she looked as pretty and fresh as a summer field after a rain.
He swallowed hard and accepted the glass. After the first sip, he knew it wasn’t his Momma’s—it was better because Charlotte had made it.
Damn, he had it bad. Telling her that her car would be done in a week would hurt even more now that he recognized the stupid, tipsy, happy feeling he got when he was around her.
Sometime between picking her up along the road and drinking her sweet tea, he’d fallen for her.
He lowered the glass and tried to control his ragged breathing. “Tastes great. You’ve added a little something Momma doesn’t.”
She smiled, small teeth seemingly whiter against her skin, which had gained a sun-kissed glow in her short time here. When she nodded, her curls bounced. He folded his fingers into fists. “Some mint and more lemon. Do you like it?”
“It’s delicious. I could drink me a gallon.”
She half turned to the door again. “Do you want me to get you more?”
“No,” he said too fast, too rough. Confusion etched between her brows. He tried again. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Something dark crossed her face. What was she thinking?
“Come here.” He walked to the open hood and peered in at what he’d done.
She stood beside him, close enough to grab and bend over his arm. He wanted to kiss the pink into her cheeks.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking at,” she said with a giggle.
“Most of the parts are back in, including the transmission. I only have a few adjustments to make.”
“Oh.” Why did she sound so quiet? Was she overcome with joy that she could drive away soon?
“Of course, at the rate I’m able to work, it will be a week or so before I have the car running. In that time, Momma should get her walking cast and freedom papers.”
“Yes, that’s right.” She gripped her fingers together and stared at them.
When Hank looked at the curls swirling over the top of her head, that soft, possessive feeling overtook him again. “Charlotte…”
She turned to him and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “Hank, about what happened the other night. When I ran, I was wrong.”
“You did what was best for you, sugar.”
“I’m not sure I did.”
His gut clenched. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she drew closer, flooding him with warmth, “I can’t get you out of my head. I need to know what happens next.”
While his heart soared with joy, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them again, worry glinted in hers. “Say it plain.”
Hesitantly, she untangled her fingers and placed them on his biceps. “I want to try again.”
His chest worked as his breathing grew more uncontrolled. His head told him she was leaving soon and he’d only have memories. His heart said he might be able to convince her to give a cowboy like him a chance.
He yanked her off her feet and whirled her, setting her on a stool that was hopefully clean enough that she didn’t get a grease stain on that perty little dress. A laugh escaped her, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling her down to her mouth.
The first brush of her tongue over his lower lip raised a growl from him. Cupping her face, he angled his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Sweet tea and woman. Hell, he wanted her bad.