Charlotte laughed when Dean practically growled at her comment about half-naked men. Maybe she should have left off the young. She patted his leg and stood. “I’m teasing you.”
She was happy to be here, and spend time with Dean and Alexis, but she wasn’t completely over her feelings of betrayal. He’d turned to Amy when he was hurting. That was hard to forget.
But it was even harder to ignore how in love she was with him. How much she wanted to be here, and hoped that this meant what she thought it might. That he wanted them to start fresh. Not as pseudo-wedding-planners or flirty business associates, but as a man and a woman who wanted a relationship together.
“Charlotte, right here.” Alexis pointed to a chair. “Dean, here.” He was to sit next to Charlotte.
They watched as she set the bread on the table and then grabbed her already loaded plate, her new album, and a fork. “And I’m going to eat in my room.”
Dean and Charlotte both instantly protested, but Alex shook her head. “I want to go spend some more time with my present—which I love so much—while you two … be together. Please.”
“Alex, we want you here.” Dean looked at Charlotte, and she instantly nodded her agreement.
“I know you do. But please, this time let me choose to do something for you. Now … don’t let me down.” Alexis gave him a wink and left the kitchen, heading down the dark hall. When they heard her bedroom door click shut, Dean turned to Charlotte.
“Well. I guess we’re alone now.”
“I guess so,” Charlotte said.
Dean pulled the lasagna closer to them and grabbed the spatula resting on the side. “Can I serve you?”
Charlotte lifted her plate. When they both had servings, they began to eat and talk about unimportant things. She complimented the food, which truly was delicious. They discussed the wine, which Dean had chosen, and even how her shoot had gone. She was pleased that despite his obvious jealousy, Dean appeared genuinely interested.
When they got closer to finishing, the conversation became stilted. Partly because she was nervous. She knew how she hoped and wanted this evening to end, but she really wasn’t confident.
She insisted on helping him take all the dishes to the sink and then put the leftovers into a dish to save. When there was nothing left to do, Dean held out his hand to her.
“Let’s go sit,” he said quietly.
“Okay.” She took his hand, grabbed her wine in the other, and allowed him to lead her back into the living room.
She liked Dean’s place. It was an apartment, but in an exclusive complex. The living area had high ceilings, a leather sofa, and some sort of dark wingback recliner. A large TV sat on the opposite wall. It was somewhat on the plain side, but she figured it was better than tacky décor. It was very him. Masculine, unadorned, but appealing.
“Is Alex going to move in with you?” Charlotte asked. Quickly she regretted the question. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like … I was fishing for information on … never mind. Just, it was an honest, curious question.”
Dean smiled. “I know. The answer is I don’t know. We haven’t talked about what her plans are past the current day. But I’ll do whatever she needs.”
“You’re a really good brother, Dean.”
“Thank you.”
They sat on the sofa once more. Close, but not touching, their legs angled together. “I’m glad you came over.” He threw one hand over the back of the sofa cushion, and his fingers instantly touched her hair. Dean seemed to like to touch her hair, which she was just fine with.
“I have to admit … I was a little confused when you asked me today. I was trying to avoid you when I stopped by.”
“I don’t blame you.” He frowned down at the leather between them for a moment before finally glancing up at her. “I acted like a dick, Charlotte. I’m sorry. I was so in my head, so … I don’t know. Getting that news from Alex…”
Charlotte laid a hand on his knee. “I understand. I do. I won’t say it didn’t hurt me a lot that you basically stopped communicating, but I tried to put myself in your situation. I knew your sister needed you. We hadn’t even been seeing each other that long so I probably shouldn’t have expected so much.”
“Yes, you should have. I let you down, Charlotte. Which is ironic, because that’s exactly what I was trying not to do.”
“What do you mean?”
* * *
Dean suddenly felt sick to his stomach, but this was it. It was time to come clean with everything that had been holding him back. If his little sister’s painful experience had taught him anything, it was that life was too damn short to worry about what-ifs.
He was going to be honest with Charlotte. After that, whatever happened between the two of them was up to her. He leaned his elbows on his knees and swallowed hard.
“Let me start over,” he said, turning his head to meet her eyes. She looked confused, and almost as nervous as he felt. “I’ve resisted this relationship between us almost every step of the way.”
Her lips pursed together, she clasped her hands. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Not because of you, Charlotte. Please understand, I’ve been attracted to you for years. You have no idea how many times I’ve adjusted the schedule so I could be the one working with you. I’ve fantasized about you a million times because everything about you attracts me, and the fact that I had a hard time with this is all on me.”
Charlotte licked at her lips, and he could tell she was confused by what he was trying to say. He needed to make his point.
“I distanced myself from you again that day we found out about Nate.”
She nodded. “Yes. You did.”
“I know I hurt you, but … I was hurting, too. And I was terrified.”
“Because of Alexis?”
Dean blew out a breath. “Partly. But … there’s more. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Charlotte.”
“You haven’t?” Her voice was so small and sad. “Are you still in love with Amy?”
“No!” Dean said a little too loudly. “Absolutely not. It’s nothing like that.”
She looked slightly relieved. “Then what have you not been honest about?”
Dean shifted, turning to face her a bit more. He reached out and touched her thumb, gently squeezing it.
“Charlotte … you told me about your miscarriage.”
Her brows narrowed. “I did. Yes.”
He nodded. “And I got the feeling that you would like to try again. To have children. You want that.”
Lips parting, she huffed out a confused sound. “Yes. Of course, I would. Why?”
When he didn’t respond right away, an awkward laugh escaped her lips and she looked away, toward the wall. “You’re making me feel stupid.”
“No, no. I’m sorry, it’s just…” He gently pulled her face back to his. “I don’t know how to say this, but, Charlotte … I can’t have children.”
She stared at him for a moment. He waited, unsure what to say next. Her mouth opened and then closed again. She glanced down at her fingers. Still she was silent.
“Do you mean…” she finally said quietly. “That you don’t want to have children?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I mean that I’m unable to. I’m … infertile, Charlotte.”
He heard her swallow, her lips twisting. A moment—that felt like an eternity—passed between them in silence. Finally she spoke. “A doctor told you this?”
“Yes. Ten years ago … and again a few weeks ago.”
Her eyes darted up to his. “You went a few weeks ago?”
“Yes. You were right, as much as I’ve wanted you, my fear of inadequacy was holding me back. I was hoping … things had changed, I guess. You’ve made a few comments that led me to believe you want kids very much. I can’t tell you how hard it is for me to know that I can’t give them to you. So I went again. To be certain.”
“So … you distanced yourself from me. Because you thought that … what? You were doing me a favor?”
Dean sat up. “I … maybe.”
Charlotte looked over to a window, her lips closed.
“Talk to me, Charlotte. Tell me how you feel.”
Her gaze cut back to him, hard and angry. But her voice was all sadness. “Talk to you? Do you mean the way you tell me how you feel when hard things weigh on your mind?”
He stared at her, stunned. She wasn’t finished.
“This is two major things, Dean. A death in your family and the fact you’re infertile and you don’t let me deal with either one. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
He was speechless. “Charlotte … I…”
“You what? Think I’m young? Stupid? Emotional?”
“I don’t think any of those things. And what about the fact that you didn’t want to talk to me about your miscarriage?”
Her head jerked back. “First, not sharing is different from completely cutting someone off, which is what you did to me. Second, I did finally share with you, when I was ready, because I trusted you. So why don’t you trust me?”
She was right, he couldn’t compare the two. “I want to, Charlotte. I’m trying. But I have trouble with that.” He stood up and walked into the dining area before walking right back. He suddenly felt the need to shake off all this pent-up frustration. Why did she not understand?
“What does that mean?” she asked. “You have trouble trusting me? Why?”
Dean plopped back down on the sofa and looked at her. “It means … I watched my mother leave my father for a younger man. My own wife cheated on me because I couldn’t make her happy.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Your mother and your ex made their own decisions. The fact that you couldn’t give Amy a baby is no excuse for what she did. And do you really think I’m the same kind of woman she is?”
“No, you’re nothing like her. But the fact remains that I can’t get you pregnant, Charlotte.”
She nodded slowly, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. “So you were going to decide for both of us that you had nothing more to offer me than your infertility. Or that if you did, I would eventually end up resenting you and become a cheater?”
“Don’t make it sound like that.”
“I didn’t. You did.”
“Damn it, Charlotte. I like you. A lot, which means I want you to be happy.”
She gave him the saddest smile. “But didn’t you stop to consider that pulling away from me does not make me happy? I was really starting to think there was something special between us before that day.”
“There was. There is.”
She shrugged. “Possibly. But how would you ever really know if you didn’t share your fears with me? You didn’t share all of yourself.”
His eyes clamped shut as he processed what she was saying.
“I think … I’m going to go.”
Dean’s eyes shot open. “Please don’t,” he said.
“I’m not saying we’re over, Dean. I just need to think about this.” Charlotte stood up and reached for her purse.
“Charlotte, please…”
She lifted a hand and put it on his jaw. “You’re not the only one with fears and insecurities, Dean. You got to process yours. Now it’s my turn. The only thing I can promise is that I won’t leave you in the dark for too long. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
All he could do was let her go.