But then it hit me again that she wouldn't be here later to stroke her fingers along my jaw and tell me that she loved me like this. That thought stung.
Padding back into my bedroom wearing just a towel, I grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, dressing quietly before Charlotte woke.
Curled onto her side with a spray of dark hair spread across the pillow, she looked so soft and sweet in her sleep. Smirking, I realized that the woman was anything but soft. Awake, she was a feisty firecracker who never hesitated to put me in my place.
As if sensing my presence, Charlotte turned toward me, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the blinds.
"Morning, sleepyhead."
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Just after eight."
Sitting up, she grabbed her phone and deleted a couple of text messages without bothering to read them. Probably just her friend in LA giving her a hard time about her lengthy stopover. Charlotte and I both knew that Wayne could have been pressured into having her car done sooner.
"You hungry?" I asked.
"Can I shower first?"
I nodded. "Take your time."
That statement was all wrong. Time was the one thing we didn't have. But Charlotte brushed her tangled hair away from her face and smiled weakly at me. That sad little smile tore through me like a knife.
"I'll be downstairs," I murmured, heading for the door. I found Duke in the kitchen fixing himself a plate of eggs.
"What's on the agenda today?" he asked.
I cleared my throat, forcing down the knot that had formed. "Charlotte's taking off today."
"And that's it, huh?"
"Yeah. Guess so."
He slammed the skillet he'd just washed onto the counter. "Don't be a dumb fuck. She's perfect for you."
He was wrong about that. She was way too good for someone like me, and I wouldn't trap her into something she'd regret.
"I won't ask her to stay."
He shook his head. "Then show her why leaving would be stupid."
Tingles started at the base of my spine as a plan formed in my mind. I needed to make a call, and my cell was still in my bedroom.
"Give me your phone," I demanded.
Duke gave me that cocky crooked grin he always wore when he'd just outsmarted me, and handed me his phone.
Glancing toward the stairs to make sure there was no sight of Charlotte, I dialed the number for Wayne's. Several rings later, I was almost convinced his lazy ass wasn't even up yet when he finally answered.
"Yup," he said.
"Wayne. It's Luke Wilder."
"What can I do for ya?"
"I've got a crisp hundred-dollar bill with your name on it if you can keep the Audi in the shop today."
He was quiet, and I had the sinking feeling he was going to refuse to play along. Duke nodded, watching me.
"I just need one more day," I said.
"All right then. I'll see you tomorrow," Wayne said and then clicked off.
A little while later, Charlotte came downstairs, her skin freshly scrubbed and dewy, and her damp hair hanging down her back.
"Wayne called to say things didn't go according to plan, and he said to come by tomorrow morning." She shrugged and took a seat at the breakfast table, but she didn't seem particularly upset.
Duke smiled at me and took his plate of eggs to the other room, giving us some privacy.
Today was my last chance to show her everything our life could be if she'd only take a chance. I couldn't waste this opportunity. Maybe, just maybe, if I played my cards right, she'd make the decision to stay all on her own.
"First, I'm going to feed you," I said, setting down a mug of steaming coffee in front of Charlotte.
"And then what?"
"I think we can entertain ourselves for one more day, don't you?"
• • •
After breakfast, Charlotte took my truck into town to check out of the inn and get her suitcase. While she was gone, I got to work, packing up a picnic basket while Molly supervised with a grin.
So far, I had cheese, crackers, fruit, hot dogs and buns, and a bottle of white wine. Molly was getting a little too much joy out of this, but without her help, the basket would have probably only contained a bottle of whiskey and a whole bunch of condoms.
After adding a couple of red plastic cups from the pantry, I surveyed my work. Not bad.
"Pass me those napkins," I told Molly.
"Here, take these instead." She handed me two cloth napkins, and then switched out my plastic cups for a pair of stemless wineglasses.
While I grabbed a blanket from the hall closet, Molly darted off, then emerged from her bedroom with a little package of salted caramel dark chocolate squares.