If I believed in it, I'd think fate sent her here to Double D's Diner.

When Deb went crazy with Vance's appearance, I couldn't help but smile, hoping she was with him.

I should’ve run after her when she left my house, but it took me a while to process my emotions. Always has.

Here she is, those toned legs still visible through the thin fabric of her leggings. A short skirt that hides her amazing ass and my favorite part of her body, her tits fitted snuggly secured in her shirt.

Vance is busy with Deb. She's now sitting down at the booth asking him if he's friends with George Clooney. Sometimes I've wondered if they’re going to erect a statue of Vance for being some bigwig in L.A. The ones that want to flee from Climax Cove think of him as a God and the ones that prefer to stay here think L.A. is some magic bubble with celebrities around every corner. Then again, they could be right. I've only visited Vance twice and L.A. is drastically different than the small-town life of Climax Cove.

“No,” she says in answer to my question.

She whips around, but I grab a hold of her elbow before she can escape fully.

“Please. It will explain a lot.”

Charlie stares at me for a few seconds and then nods. “You can tell my brother.” She leaves through the door and goes to wait by my truck.

Fuck.

I turn to Vance who is now sitting alone and watching the show between the two of us. He quirks an eyebrow up. A perfectly shaped eyebrow. Where is the guy who played rugby with me in the mud?

I trudge over, the knowledge that he might want to hit me again slowing me down.

“Hey.”

“Why is my sister standing by your truck?” He never gets up from the table.

“I'm taking her to my house.”

He scoffs. “The hell you are.”

“We need to hash some things out.”

He stares at me silently for a moment before responding. “You hurt her, Shaw. I saw it tonight.” He taps his fork back and forth from tip to end on the table. One can only hope he isn’t getting ready to stab me with it.

I nod.

“Tread carefully with my sister, man.”

He eyes me and the seriousness in the eyes of one of my oldest friends isn't missed. Lucky for me, I have plans to make this all right.

“She'll be happy tomorrow, promise.”

He holds up his hand and Deb drops a plate with a cheeseburger and fries on the table.

“No details, okay. I think I've been more than patient in dealing with this thing with my sister, so don't make me regret it.”

“Enjoy your cheeseburger.” I grip his shoulder and try to convey as best I can that I have this covered.

* * *

I open the door to my cabin after the quiet ride. I know Charlie's mad because she's biting the inside of her cheek, which she does when she's bothered by something. It's a mannerism I've noticed when she’s dealing with a rude customer at Happy Daze. She serves them with a smile and then gnaws on the inside of her cheek for awhile.

She walks through the door but lingers by the entry table as if she doesn’t want to go any further.

“Have a seat on the couch. I'll be right back.”

She sits on the brown leather couch and I head through the kitchen to my office.

The fact that I'm about to let Charlie see a side of me most don't has my heart hammering in my chest the entire way.

I open my desk drawer, find the paper I’m looking for laying where it always is. When I'm struggling, I read it. In the eight years I've had it, I've read it so often, I could probably recite it from memory.

Charlie is leaning on one side of the couch, her feet and legs tucked under her body. I place down the two beers I stopped to grab on the way here and she brings one of the bottles to her lips.

She eyes the paper in my hands, but says nothing, not recognizing it. Eight years is a long time and I don’t even think she has any idea that I even knew about it.

“So, are we going to sit here all night in silence or are you gonna tell me why I'm here?” her tone is short and bitter.

I cup the paper in my hand, shielding it from her eyes.

“You've liked me for a long time.”

“No shit.” She sips her beer again and places it on the table next to her.

“I've known it. I knew you had a crush on me when you were younger. As the years have gone by, I've noticed you looking at me differently than a young girl looks at her crush.”

Her head falls to the side and those warm eyes now hold annoyance. “What are we doing here? Taking a trip down memory lane and going over what an idiot I am?”

I chuckle, but her lips remain tight.

“No,” I answer.

Her chest rises and falls. “I'm about to call Al's Taxi and that should tell you how eager I am to leave here. He just had cataract surgery last week.” She tips her beer in my direction and my dick stiffens, enjoying her snarky side.

“Relax. I'm getting to the point.” Surprisingly, she does as I ask. “As you know first hand, after Melissa, I struggled with Sydney. I leaned on her parents and my own. Yeah, I was there physically to raise her, but I wasn't there emotionally. I fell into a deep depression.”

Charlie puts her beer down on the table. “I know.” Her tone is kinder now, which isn't the reason I'm telling her this.

“Sydney was four when my eyes opened the first time. It was the morning after your graduation party. Do you remember?”

She swallows and nods her head, her eyes steady on me now.

“I woke up the next morning and trudged up your parents’ basement stairs hung over to all hell. Sydney had gone home with my mom and I drank too much so as always, your parents took me in for the night.”

I lick my lips and try to grasp a hold to every ounce of strength this piece of paper says I have.

“That morning, as your dad went out to get donuts for everyone and you and Vance were still sleeping, your mom sat me down at your kitchen table.”

“My mom?” she asks, pointing to herself.

I nod. “She told me she understood my loss, but it was time to straighten up and take care of my responsibilities. That Sydney was essentially an orphan because I might be clothing her, feeding her, but I wasn't there emotionally for her. I wasn’t participating in her life.”

Her wide eyes tell me she’s surprised, but I have no idea why since her mom isn't shy in conveying her feelings and thoughts. Like mother like daughter.

“We must’ve talked for an hour. Your dad came home, dropped the donuts on the table and then disappeared. I told her how I wasn't strong enough to be a single father. I wallowed in the fact that it wasn’t supposed to end up this way. It was supposed to be both of us raising Sydney.”

I inhale another calming breath. I think Mrs. Rose saw more of my raw emotions that morning than my own mother or even Melissa ever did.

“She gave me something that morning that made the difference. She may have crossed a line by giving me this.” I hold the paper in the air. “Some might say it wasn't hers to give, but this paper right here helped me believe in myself again. Helped me find the man I was before tragedy struck. It helped me become the father I'm proud to be to Sydney.”

“What is it?” Her voice is shaky and low.

I hand her the paper she wrote for her end of the year project in Advanced English her senior year.

She gasps and covers her mouth seeing the title, The World's Strongest Man by Charlotte Rose typed at the top.

“She didn't.” She shakes her head and stands, rounding the back of the couch, starting to pace back and forth. “She told me she accidentally threw it away. The only reason she found out about it was—”

“Mr. Garfield wanted to send it into a contest.”

She stops moving, her eyes tearing up.

“I told him no.” She shakes her head, one tear slipping down her cheek.

“I know, your mom told me you refused and Mr. Garfield reached out to her.”

She nods, her teeth nibbling on the inside of her cheek.

“It wasn't something you needed out there. I know how you hate having too much attention on you.”

I stand, meeting her behind the couch. I reach up and caress her cheek, my thumb brushing away her tear.

“Thank you.”

Her head shakes back and forth. “For what?”

“For always believing in me. For seeing something I didn't see in myself. You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader even if you didn’t realize it.”

She nods. “I'm embarrassed.” She tries to turn her face away from me, but I grip it harder.

“Don't be. I should be the one who’s embarrassed.” My eyes focus on her warm and kind caramel eyes staring back at me.

“Why?”

“Because I shouldn't have made you wait, but I was so scared. In truth, I'm still scared.” My gaze dips to her lips and back to her eyes.

“Don't be scared.” Her hands reach up and cover mine. “I'm here for you.”

I nod my head. “I want to explore what this is with you.”

Her grin appears slow like honey flowing out of a jar until it paints every surface of her entire face with her happiness.

“Well try not to upset me again. That's strike one,” she warns with a smile.

My head falls back and laughter pours out of me. “You really are a Rose aren't you?”

She shakes her head in confusion.

“Your brother is always logging strikes against me.”

“I'm glad he isn't causing us too many problems.”

The laughter slows and I stare into her eyes once more. What an idiot I was for not seeing what we could be sooner. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

Her tongue snakes out of her mouth and I capture her lips before she can answer.

My body calms as soon as her lips are on mine, our tongues searching for one another’s until they meet. I slow the kiss, but my lips continue to move along her jaw and down her neck.

“We have my house to ourselves tonight,” I murmur against her soft skin.

“Then why do I still have clothes on?” Her hands hold my head to her neck and she steps closer to my body.

I pick her up and swing her over my shoulder, my hand sliding up her legs to her ass.

“Are you taking me to your cave?” she jokes, her own hands smacking my ass.

“I think I need to torture you with sweet kisses and tender words tonight.”

She's silent and when I reach my room, I maneuver her so she can slide down the front of my body. It's then I realize she's tearing up again.

“Why are you crying?” I ask and she shakes her head back and forth.

“I'm just happy.”

I brush her tears away. “Then I hope to make you cry often.”

She giggles, rising to her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Garrett,” she whispers.

My hands flow over her body, feeling every inch of her. “Uh huh,” I murmur.

“I still have clothes on,” she says softly, her teeth taking my earlobe into her mouth.

I chuckle into her neck while my fingers reach for the zipper of her skirt.