That Emerald Vow (The Crimson Creed #2)

10. Chapter Ten

T he nervous energy in my body is palpable as I make my way down the stairs to the garage level—unable to wait for the elevator. There’s no sound in the stairwell except my hard steps pounding on the concrete. I need to move. I need to . . . I don’t know . . . I need to do something to ease this tension. Alex, Nigel, and I have a plan to petition against my mother’s compassionate release, as her life expectancy does not meet the minimum requirements. Especially since she’s a danger to society.

Without a second thought, I pull out my cellphone as I walk to my truck, swiping down until I find the contacts under “G.” Pressing the call button, I wait for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Charlie answers, her voice muffled by running water in the background.

I abruptly stop in front of my truck door, second-guessing my impulsive decision to call her. “I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?” I hear the squeaking of the faucet being turned off. “It is, isn’t it? I’m sor—”

“You’re fine. Uh, I just got home and was about to take a shower,” she says, cutting me off.

I twirl my keys in my free hand as a nervous tension fills my stomach. “Does that mean you’re in for the night? I-I was hoping to . . . I don’t know, go out for a drink or something . . . ”

“D, are you okay?” Charlie asks in a tone of voice I rarely hear from anyone outside of my sister and Adrian. Worry. She’s worried about me, and it makes something in my heart thaw—a part that I didn’t know was possible to feel.

“I—” I consider lying, but what’s the point? “I’ve been better.”

Charlie pauses for a second. I can imagine her picking at lint or wiping something away that isn’t there. It’s a nervous tick of hers I quickly picked up. I can tell my little gem is a free spirit, but her true heart is guarded. She doesn’t allow herself to be anything but perfection. “I need fifteen minutes to shower. How about you come over? We can have a drink here? Talk . . . Not talk.” I would love to “not talk” with her. And I mean that in every sweet and naughty way. Being around her fills me with nervous energy but also a peaceful calm.

A smile splits my face, and I notice I’ve stopped fidgeting with my keys. “I’ll be over in a flash. Do you want me to bring anything?” I check my watch, seeing it’s a little past 10 PM.

“Strawberry milkshake from the diner we went to the other day. Extra large.” I don’t think they have more than one size. But if she wants an extra large, she’s getting a fucking extra large.

“You got it. I’ll be there soon, Char,” I say.

“Mm. Okay. See you soon,” she says, her voice low.

My eyebrows immediately furrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Charlie.”

She grunts. “You just . . . You usually call me gem . . . You didn’t today.” I chuckle. “It’s stupid. I don’t care. It was just weird that you didn’t.”

“You like that nickname, huh?” At this point, I am so wrapped up in this gorgeously sweet and fiery woman that everything else I was worried about isn’t on my mind.

She quickly stammers out. “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me, Char, ” I growl as I tease.

“Maybe . . . It’s different.” She audibly sighs through the receiver. “It feels unique, just for me . . . special . . .” She whispers out the last word, which makes my heart shatter for her. I don’t know who has made her feel like she’s less than, but I want to destroy that person.

“You are special.” I hear a little sniffle. “I have known you for almost two weeks, and I already feel like I know everything I need to. You are a beautiful, intelligent, warm-hearted, badass woman. You are the definition of a gem. A precious natural work of art.”

“Tha—” Her voice cracks.

“No need to thank me. I’ll see you soon, my little gem.”

I don’t dare to admit this out loud. But I think Charlotte Thatcher stole my heart on that dance floor that first night with her enchanting eyes and vibrant personality. And I don’t know if I want it back . . . But I also don’t know if I can do anything about it. Until then, I’ll do what I do best and toe the line.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m knocking on the devil’s door. But the beautiful woman opening the door isn’t the devil in this scenario. No, she’s an enchantress that has put a spell on me and doesn’t even know it. The devil is the possible danger I’m putting her in by getting too close. It’s my feelings that are growing for her. And the very real fear I have of letting someone in—letting someone see past my easy-going facade.

In my line of work, loved ones often become collateral damage because it’s easy to hit people where it hurts. That’s not how I work though. If I have a problem with you then it’s you I’m taking it up with. I haven’t had to worry about that before, as my family consisted of two people, Dani and Adrian. Adrian can fend for himself and helps me keep an eye on my little sister. And Dani has been forced to learn how to physically defend herself. But someone I’m romantically involved with? That hasn’t been an issue with my string of one-night stands. Now that all may come crumbling down because of one emerald-eyed woman.

“Hey, Damon,” Charlie says, smiling at me. There’s a twinkle in her eyes. She seems really happy to see me, which calms me. In that “this is exactly where I need to be right now” kinda way. Her facial expression quickly turns quizzical as she eyes the two grocery bags in my hand. “What’s all that?”

Me being a complete dork ‘cause the way to cheer me up seems to be by making you smile. Shaking off my thoughts, I say, “Sustenance!” as I lift up the bags in exclamation. “Can’t have a hang out without snacks.”

She smirks at me. “You’re gonna be a complete riot to be friends with, huh?”

I wink at her as I walk inside her house. I don’t want to take my eyes off of her. She looks so good in her simple, checkered, pajama bottoms with a cropped shirt. “You’ll never go hungry at least.”

“I can see that,” she giggles. “Kitchen is to the back right.”

I follow her instructions and place the bags on the marble top kitchen island, which looks incredible with the base being in shades of dark oak and hunter green. “Woah. This kitchen is amazing!”

“Yeah, this was my grandma’s home—dad’s mom. She left it for me in her will. There’s a lot of wonderful memories in this kitchen.”

“Do you cook?” I ask as I pull things out of the bags.

She bites her lip shyly, which is a new look for her. I’ve never seen her as anything but confident, at least on the surface. I think we’re more alike than either one of us realizes—hiding secrets behind our radiating personalities. “Uh, no. It’s a skill I was never really good at. ”

“Well, we’re going to learn today,” I say, smiling warmly at her as I take the final item out of the bag. “Do you have a blender?”

Her eyes go wide as she quickly scans everything on the counter. “Uh . . .”

I walk around the corner of the island to be next to her. “Don’t worry, gem. We’re not doing anything crazy. Just making milkshakes. The rest of it’s going in the oven,” I say, placing my hand on her arm and gently squeezing. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

She nods as she grabs the blender from a cabinet. “Okay. I’m ready.” She furrows her eyebrows in concentration. Instinctively, I go to swipe my thumb across her cheek because she looks so fucking cute. What the hell is wrong with me? Stupid fucking hand. We both look shocked, silently gasping at the touch.

“You look cute when you’re concentrating,” I whisper. Her eyes bore into mine, showcasing a million emotions so quickly, I can’t decipher one before the next takes over. They probably mirror mine. Lust. Comfort. Want. Need. Curiosity. I remove my hand as I clear my throat. “Okay. So milkshakes are really not that hard.”

“You’re telling someone who’s burned instant ramen. The most I can do—the most anyone trusts me to do—is prep work, like chopping.”

“You’re good with a knife, huh?” I laugh. “I gotta make sure I’m never on your bad side.”

“You have no idea.” She winks at me, but there’s a pained expression behind it. “Okay. This is just blending, so it shouldn’t be hard.”

We prep all the ingredients to make her extra large milkshake and also throw in the wings and fries I brought to snack on in the oven. “I know you wanted the milkshake from the diner, but this is going to taste so much better, I promise.” I picked up my favorite strawberry ice cream from a parlor I’ve been going to since I was a kid, barely making it before they closed for the night. It’s one of the only small businesses that hasn’t been taken over as our big city expands.

“I trust you.” Our eyes meet as she says it, and my heart constricts. It’s not the first time she’s said it, but just like before, it silently holds a lot of meaning. Trust isn’t something given easily. I vowed to care for her, and I plan to keep that promise.

I let Charlie blend the milkshakes to her desired thickness as I check on the food in the oven, even though the timer still says two minutes. “Almost done.”

“You’re so impatient.” She laughs as she grabs glasses to pour the milkshakes into.

“What can I say, I’m a hungry man. Oh!” I walk to the fridge. “We need to add the most important finishing touches.” I grab the whipped cream can I bought and maraschino cherries.

“Oh, there’s an almost empty can. Can we use that first before opening the new one?” she asks.

I look again and find the can she’s talking about.

She grabs it from me and shakes it with barely a sound.

“I think ‘almost empty’ may be pushing it,” I tease.

Sticking her tongue out at me, she proceeds to try to coat the milkshakes. After two failed attempts and me silently smirking at her, she tries again, frustrated. Charlie gasps and jumps back as spurts of whipped cream fly everywhere but the glass. We both look at each other for a long moment in shock before bursting out laughing.

“I told you I was a disaster in the kitchen,” she says between laughs.

I take a step towards her. She looks ridiculous with random spots of whipped cream on her face. The laughter slowly subsides with our close proximity. “You’re not a disaster,” I say, wiping the whipped cream spots with my thumb and bringing it to my mouth. “Tasty, maybe.” God, what I would do to taste her. Just once. I look down at her mouth and back up at her eyes. She parts her lips, and I can tell she’s as flustered as I am .

Embracing the electricity that’s surrounding us, we both lean a little bit closer to each other. “Oh, I’m definitely tasty. Even without the whipped cream exploding on me.” There’s that confident girl.

“Oh, yeah?” I rasp, inching even closer—now a breath away from her.

Maybe just one kiss won’t hurt.

She closes her eyes, and I do the same, both of us deciding to let this moment guide us. Before we can close that final gap, the oven timer goes off, startling both of us.

Charlie leaps back a step, and I grunt as I go to turn off the timer and oven. “I guess it’s time to eat.” I turn around after taking the snacks out of the oven.

“Uh, yeah. Let me just go wash my face.” She gives me a small smile as she walks out of the room.

“Okay. I’ll, uh, finish up here and start cleaning.” I start plating the wings and fries.

“Day?”

“Hmm,” I mumble, ignoring the confusion forming inside from the choice of nickname.

“Thank you for this. I really needed it.” Without another word, she leaves the kitchen again.

I grab a french fry and pop it into my mouth as I realize I needed this too. Not just tonight, but her. Getting to know Charlie is slowly healing a part of me I didn’t allow myself to think about. Two people called me “Day” today, but only one pissed me off. When Char said it, it made me have a feeling of belonging and care. Hearing it from her lips . . . it felt right.