Shattered Dreams (Dream #1)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Charlie

I’m sliding on my suit jacket when I hear a knock on the door. I walk out and head toward it; I can see figures through the glass window. I’m almost there when there is another knock on the door. “I’m coming,”

I say, pulling it open and staring at my sister, Grace, in shock. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Her husband, Caine, stands behind her, wearing a suit very much like mine. My parents pull up behind them, and then a couple of my aunts follow.

Everyone is dressed to the nines. The last time I saw them was when we went home to escape the man lurking around.

It took my grandfather two days to find out who he was and to deliver him a message that he was messing with the wrong people.

Which isn’t surprising since my grandfather runs the biggest security firm in the country. It took him less than an hour to cut ties with the Cartwrights, and we found this out through an email he sent to them quitting.

Since then, we haven’t seen him around town, and from what my grandfather told me this morning, he’s in New York.

“Is that any way to talk to your favorite sister?”

She steps in, kissing my cheek.

“You’re my only sister,”

I remind her, turning and seeing Caine hold out his hand to me and shake it.

“I told them it wasn’t a good idea, but I’m usually never listened to.”

Caine walks in with Grace toward the living room.

“Usually?”

I watch him grab her hand.

“Ever,”

Caine corrects himself. “It’s like I talk for nothing since no one listens to me.”

“Oh, don’t you look nice,”

my mother says, coming to me and getting on her tippy-toes to kiss my cheek, then flattening down the front of my jacket.

“What is everyone doing here?”

I ask, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

“It’s your girl’s big debut. You didn’t think we’d miss it,”

my father explains.

“Does she know you’re coming?”

I ask the question, though I know full well she has no idea, or else she’d be double stressed. Considering for the past four days she’s slept maybe two hours each night, waking up, gasping for air with nightmares that she forgot to do something, which wasn’t the case.

“She has no clue,”

Caine replies. “I also said it was not a good idea to ambush her at her job.”

He looks over at Grace.

“I’m not ambushing anyone. I got an email and bought tickets to the event”—Grace avoids looking at him and instead looks at her nails—“in your name.”

“You’re welcome.”

He nods at me.

“Okay, this is fun, but I don’t want to be late.”

I look at the room as they all get up and head toward the door.

“How are we going to plan this?”

Grace asks, stepping out of the door.

“You planned all of this,”

Caine reminds her, his hand doing a circle of everyone in my driveway, “but you didn’t plan how to execute this?”

He shakes his head and laughs.

“I don’t think I invited you,”

she hisses.

“You didn’t have to invite me.”

Caine smiles at her. “Because I bought a ticket.”

“Okay, you two. I get the whole he said, she said. Let’s get mad at each other, but you aren’t really mad at each other. But Autumn has killed herself for the past month putting this together, and we will not ruin it.”

I look at everyone. “We are on our best behavior.”

“Wow,”

Grace interjects, “you really do love her.”

She smiles. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I get into my parents’ car, and I’m out of it before he puts the car in park. The parking lot is filled, every single parking spot has been taken, so people are now parking along the street. We walk to the doors of the bar, met by two pillars of balloons at the front with a big chalkboard that says private event.

Pulling open the door, I step in and see how she transformed it. It looks like we are back in the twenties. The room is dimly lit, and black tablecloths cover all the tables. Wooden barrels are all over the place with pictures on them and little pieces of information beside them, along with a bottle of whatever whiskey goes with the picture. I look around the crowded room, spotting Brady standing with his father beside him, both of them in suits as they talk to a group of people in front of them.

My eyes scan the room, and I finally spot her on the side, talking to a man who looks like he’s my grandfather’s age. Her face is smiling, but she looks nervous as fuck. I can tell by the way her chest is rising and falling in the black satin dress she is wearing. It goes all the way up to her neck, the sleeves stop just after her elbow, as it goes tight at the waist and then hugs her hips until her mid-thigh. It’s the first time I’ve seen her this dressed up in a while, and my cock pays attention right away. “Finally.”

I look over to see my grandfather standing there with a glass in his hand. “What took you guys so long?”

“Pops,”

I say, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

I go to hug him, and he slaps my back.

“Bought tickets,”

he deadpans, and I shake my head. “I had a friend of mine who I thought would like this event.”

“A friend of yours?”

I ask, confused, as he brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip.

“Yes,”

he confirms and then motions with his head toward Autumn, “that’s my friend.”

I watch as Autumn talks. “He owns Southern Tea. He is the largest wine and spirits distributor.”

He takes another sip. “I might have given him a bottle of the new blend.”

I stare at him as he smirks at me. “I guess right time, right place,”

I say, and then see my family walking around the room, taking in all the pictures. I look over at Autumn and see that she’s shaking the man’s hand, and the handshake lasts one second longer than it should or than I want it to last.

“Relax there,”

my grandfather advises, “his wife is right there.”

He motions with his chin to the woman in the corner talking to Brady now.

“Excuse me,”

I say, walking away as he chuckles. Her eyes find mine, and I can see some tears in them, and my pulse races.

“Hi,”

I say when I get close enough to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to bend down. Usually, I kiss her cheek, but not now, not tonight, actually, no fucking more. I kiss her on the lips, and she even gasps before my lips touch hers. I can hear whispers from some of the local people here but have zero fucks to give.

“Hi,”

she replies, trying not to act like I didn’t just throw her off her game, but seeing the look in her eyes, I know I did. “Charlie,”

she says my name, “meet Montgomery Johnson.”

She smiles at the man. “This is Charlie Barnes.”

“We’ve met.”

He shocks me. “When you were a little kid chasing the horses.”

He laughs and sticks out his hand to shake mine.

“That sounds like me.”

I take my hand off her waist and shake his hand, but then slide my hand into hers. She squeezes my hand tightly as we make small talk. Brady comes over and asks if he can give him a tour of the distillery. The two of them take off, and I look down at her. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

She shakes her head. “Can you come with me?”

she asks, and I nod as she turns. I stop after one step when I see the back of her dress or, better yet, the lack of the back of her dress. Her whole back is bare, with a sash bow that ties at the base of her back, right above her ass. I blink twice before I follow her closely, blocking her from people’s view behind us. She pushes open the door to the distillery, and I see most of my family with her dad as he shows them the process of the machines. She opens her office door, the curtain down on the big window that looks out. I follow her in and close the door. She turns to face me and bends over with her hands over her mouth and nose.

“Baby?”

I ask softly, and she stands up.

“Do you know what just happened?”

she says, her voice shaking and now one lone tear comes down her face.

“I have no idea, but I really fucking hope it’s good.”

I walk to her, my thumb coming out to catch the lone tear.

“He distributes to forty states and wants to add us to his catalog,”

she tells me. “He says he’s going to personally make sure that everyone tastes our whiskey.”

I smile at her. “Do you know what that means?”

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush with my chest. “Charlie, this is massive.”

She puts her hands on my biceps. “This is—”

“You did it,”

I say softly. “You worked your ass off, and look at everything you did.”

I kiss her lips. “And it paid off.”

I slide my tongue with hers as we make out in her office. “We should get out there,”

I say once I let go of her lips.

“Um, yeah,”

she agrees, stepping out of my arms. “You kissed me”—I tilt my head to the side—“in front of everyone.”

“Okay.”

“Are we doing that now?”

she asks, and I put my hands in my pockets. “Like, we kiss in private.”

She wrings her hands together. “But we’ve never, you know, in front of everyone.”

“Do you not want to kiss me in front of everyone?”

I ask, getting pissed.

“That’s not exactly what I said,”

she retorts, and I raise my eyebrows. “It’s just that everyone is going to see and, well, then you know how gossip is...”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

I chuckle nervously.

“Charlie,”

she says, “don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing it to protect you.”

“Noted,”

I say. “But I don’t give a shit if people gossip. I don’t care if people take pictures and post it on flyers in the middle of the town square.”

I shake my head. “So now that we’ve concluded this portion of our talk, how about we get out there so we can celebrate?”

“Okay,”

she agrees, walking to me and taking one of my hands in both of hers, “that sounds like a plan.”

I pull open the door and walk out with her. “Also, we are going to discuss the dress.”

She looks down at her dress. “What’s wrong with my dress?”

“You’re missing a whole piece in the back,”

I explain, pushing the door to the bar open as she laughs at me. I spend the night by her side, her hand in mine most of the time or my arm around her shoulders. There is no mistake at the end of the night that we are together. We get a couple of raised eyebrows and a couple of finger-pointings, and each time I make sure to lean down and kiss her lips. “Give them something to talk about,”

I mumble to her each time.

We spend the night at my house, her dress in a heap at the front door, the rest of her clothes beside the bed. Her body curved into mine. Everything else is not even a blip on our radar.

The next morning, I bring her coffee in bed. “Will you come with me?”

I ask as she looks up at me. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you,”

she agrees, getting up and sliding into her dress again. We go to her house, and she changes before I take her to the cemetery. She looks out the window as I drive up. “You okay with this?”

I ask when I put the truck in park, and she nods, getting out of the truck.

I slide my hand in hers as we walk over to the grave. “I haven’t been here in eight years,”

she admits to me softly. “I couldn’t.”

My thumb rubs hers as we stop in front of Jennifer’s tombstone. “I miss her,”

she says. “There isn’t one day that goes by I don’t think of her at least once.”

She wipes the tears away from her face, looking up at me. “She loved you so much.”

I nod. “The feeling was mutual.”

“She must be pissed at me now that I’m with her man.”

She laughs through her tears, and I look down at her.

“I don’t think she cares,”

I say honestly.

“Then you don’t know anything.”

She lets go of my hand and wraps it around my waist. “I would be pissed if you got with my best friend.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me, kissing her head. “But then Jennifer was nicer than me.”

“She might have done this,”

I suggest. “She knew the both of us were hurting and needed each other.”

She looks up at me and then looks back down at the tombstone, squatting down in front of it. “I miss you so much,”

she now whispers to her, “there is so much that has happened.”

She laughs now as she wipes away a tear. “I bet you know already.”

I smile as I listen to her talk to her. “I promise that I’ll take good care of him.”

I close my eyes, blinking my own tears away. “We both love you so much and we’ll never forget you.”

She presses two fingers to her lips before putting them on Jennifer’s name.

She stands up beside me as my hand moves to grab hers, sliding it with her fingers and feeling her. Making me settle just by her touch, she looks up at me. The streaks of tears down her face as she smiles, inhaling deeply before saying three words that I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hear more in my life, “I love you.”

Here, in the middle of the cemetery where my dreams were shattered, I feel whole again. I feel like whatever path I was on and then did a detour led me to this moment right here. To this woman right here. To the fact I love her with every single fiber in my soul. I love her to the point that I never, ever want to be without her. I love her to the point where I don’t think I could breathe without her. She has cured me, and she had no idea she was doing it. I had no idea she was doing it until it was right there in front of me. “I love you.”