Redeem Me (25 page)

N
oble and I carry our boat as we wade into the calm sea. The water is flat with barely a break at the edge. It’s more like a lake today than an ocean, and I welcome the peacefulness. Noble’s birthday seems fitting to take
Mindless
out for a sail, I think as I pull myself over the side of the boat. We drove down after dinner, avoiding the crowds, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Noble and I lie head to feet, rocking over the gentle waves in our boat as Noble sings “Happy Birthday” to himself, and the cloudless blue sky, and the sun hanging low to hear him better. His voice is soft and gentle and floats along the tamed surf.

The sun warms my skin and I throw some water on both of us from over the side.

“Hey! Do you mind? I’m trying to enjoy a relaxing evening on my boat.”

“This bathing suit is made to get wet, isn’t it?” I ask as I rub the hem of his board shorts. I mentally compare Noble’s bathing suit to Jason’s cutoff jeans and it reminds me of Jason’s accusation that I’m taking the easy way out. Maybe I am only in love with Noble because it’s easy. We’ve always been more together than we are apart. Does that make it wrong, or just comfortable? I rub the scar on my cheek. Noble applied the SPF 75 he bought for it—twice. Right before he put my hat on my head.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, interrupting my ridiculous thoughts.

“How much I love you,” I answer, forgoing the lack of a conclusion.

Noble rocks the boat as he sits up, but I keep my face toward the sun. “That’s perfect,” he says, “because I want to know if you’ll marry me.”

“Again with the begging, Noble?” I smile at our joke and look up at him. His face is void of amusement and on the end of his pinky finger sits a ring. “Noble?” I am breathless.

Jason jumps into my head, and what accepting this ring will do to him, and I silently chastise myself for letting him into
Mindless
. His invasions are still constant, even after the finality of our last meeting. It’s not fair to marry Noble and care what someone else will think. He absolutely deserves better.

“Charlotte,” Noble says, and I force myself to focus on him. His hair is wet and shaken off his face. His blue eyes are deeper than the ocean yet shallow enough to reach. The sun’s warmth is centered on him, only shining on me because I’m near him. He is glorious. “You are the most stubborn, frustrating girl I’ve ever known. The months between the snowstorm and the Harvest Dance were the longest of my entire life.”

I remember the look on his face when I told him I loved him that night.

“I believe you could literally drive me insane,” Noble continues confidently. His expression is the one he always has when he laughs at me. “You have a tendency to collect things in need, specifically misbehaving hound dogs and crotchety old men—and you insist on spoiling them both rotten. And to my chagrin, you lack a basic understanding of the purpose of undergarments in everyday attire.” He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head in the most adorable way. “Your impact on the opposite sex is an enormous burden to manage, and I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting men off you.”

I listen to him, speechless.

“Your use of whiskey in recipes is questionable, and your driving—harrowing.”

“Does this pick up?” I finally ask. The joking question is out of habit; the uncertainty in my voice is born of consternation.

“Yes, I’m getting there,” he says, grinning. “For months, I’ve watched in awe as you painstakingly reconstructed your life, and unbeknownst to me, each day I fell more in love with you. Charlotte, I always knew I wanted to farm my land. I never thought much further than that”—Noble looks down at the ring and back at me—“until the snowstorm in January.”

He smiles his wonderful, carefree smile and my heart warms.

“I don’t know what made you come into my room that night, but that one step through my doorway rearranged every element of my life forever. Since then, I see myself cooking Sunday dinners, and playing cards by the fire, and taking road trips and boat rides, and God help me, going to church.”

Noble laughs and I can’t take my eyes off him.

“And hauling in Christmas trees, and hiding Easter eggs, and reading bedtime stories.” His voice softens. “And, Charlotte, all of it I see with you.”

My eyes move from Noble’s to the ring around his finger. It’s a round diamond surrounded by emeralds, each a half-moon shape. It’s like a flower and I’ve never seen anything like it, and like the man holding it, it’s perfect.

With a finger to my chin, Noble tilts my face and my eyes meet his again. “I want to spend every day of my life like this.” I look at the ocean around us. It is vast and calm and meets the quiet sky at an unbroken horizon. “With you.”

Noble should be giving this ring to someone who loves him, forsaking all others. “You are extraordinary, Charlotte, and you deserve an extraordinary life.”

What I deserve is to fall off this boat and drown.

“I love you, and no one’s ever going to take better care of you.” Noble takes my face in his hand and runs his thumb across the fresh scar on my cheek.

I close my eyes and lean into his hand. A heaviness washes over me and threatens to pull our entire boat to the bottom of the ocean. Why didn’t I see this coming? What did I think was going to happen? I know exactly what this will do to Jason because I’ve lived through it, every day imagining his life with someone else. I can’t inflict that kind of pain on him.

And yet, out here on the water, I belong with Noble.

If it weren’t for Noble, I wouldn’t be here in this boat, maybe not here at all. As inconceivable as my parents’ deaths are in relation to a grand plan for my life, Noble seems to fit it perfectly. He’s the only thing that really makes sense. But I learned long ago life isn’t about making sense; it’s about survival. Noble kisses me; his lips pressing against mine force the guilt from my mind and remind me that I deserve to live this life.

“If in your heart…you know…this is how you should spend the rest of your life, then say yes and we’ll figure the rest out later. Trust in me, Charlotte.”

I open my eyes and see on Noble’s face what took me months to comprehend.

My lovely Noble cherishes me.

“Yes,” I say, and silently pray for Noble, and me…and Jason.

Dear God, thank you for this beautiful day,

And this beautiful man in front of me.

Please watch over all three of us,

And protect us from ourselves and each other,

As we embark on a thousand tomorrows
.

M
y cell phone rings as I pull the tractor into the L-shed. I fumble trying to get it out of my pocket and turn off the engine as I see the number. I was hoping for Charlotte, but it’s Jason. I don’t want to talk to Jason right now, or really ever again, but I know that’s not a possibility.

“Hello,” I say, hoping my voice isn’t filled with the dread I feel.

“Sinclair, what’s up?” Jason says, and I can’t help feeling guilty.

“Nada. How’s it going in Oklahoma?” I ask, hoping there’s an obvious opening to tell him I’m in love with Charlotte. I’m sure I’ll be able to slip it right in. I roll my eyes.

“Shitty, as usual. How’s Annie? I haven’t heard from you in months,” Jason says.

“I’ve been meaning to call you, but I was hoping to talk to you in person.” I pause, still not knowing exactly how to continue. “I won’t talk to you about Charlotte anymore.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, showing no understanding of why.

“I’m in love with her. I’m sorry, man. Really sorry to tell you over the phone. Like I said, I was hoping to talk to you in person.”

“Dude, it’s okay. I’ve always known you love her,” Jason says kindly, almost smugly, then pauses. “What’s different now?”

Silence.

“Oh, the difference is now you’re making a run for her? You think you have a chance?”

“Jason, I’m really sorry,” I get out right before he hangs up.

I walk into the house and take a beer out of the refrigerator. I sit down at the table, open it, and stare out the back window. The beer bubbles and hisses but doesn’t spill over. Jason’s pissed and that’s a problem. He’ll come home. Home to get her. He’s not stupid, just impulsive. He’s a hothead. He reacts faster than most people can comprehend the situation. Probably an instinct honed from wrestling animals.

A storm’s coming and I have to make the necessary preparations. Instead of bringing in the patio furniture and moving the grill, the only real preparation is finding Charlotte. Now would be the perfect time for her to go away for a few weeks. I always knew this day would come. The day when she and Jason would be together in the same room, when they’d finally talk about everything that happened. For months I’ve been telling both of us there’s nothing to avoid, nothing Jason can say or do that could bring her back to him, but now I think I’ve been lying to us both.

The irony stings my throat as I take a large gulp of the beer. Charlotte and I have fought over her running out of town to avoid him and now I’d throw her in the Jeep and drive her away myself if I could. Maybe I should just tell her the truth. If I tell her, she’ll probably leave on her own. If I only knew that she sincerely hates him.

No matter how secure I feel with her, I can’t get the memories out of my head of the way the two of them were together. I keep questioning whether she hates him or is afraid to let herself feel anything else, especially since she went to Key West. I don’t know if I’ll ever know exactly what happened down there, but something’s been different about Charlotte since she returned.

Jason and Charlotte came out of nowhere. I remember watching from her parents’ front door as he lifted her into his truck. It was bizarre and completely unexpected. We all knew each other. Knew everything about each other, just like every other person raised in this town, but Jason and Charlotte had never been “together” before. Margo didn’t even know what was going on.

From that moment on it was uncomfortable to be around them, their connection palpable. They would speak eerily little, as if they were already aware of each other’s thoughts and feelings. Actually, it was as if they had no thoughts or feelings outside of each other. They were always touching. Holding hands and hugging, and whenever they sat, it was next to, in front of, or on top of each other. I’ve known both of them my entire life and I’d never seen them act that way before. I’ve never seen anyone act that way before. When they looked at each other, I felt like I should leave the room, and I literally did. After the first few months, I stopped visiting Charlotte and her roommates when Jason was in town.

I down the beer, crush the can, and throw it across the room into the sink. Jason writing her letters pisses me off, but him coming home terrifies me. When he calls her Annie, it enrages me. I can’t stand that he has any piece of her, even a stupid nickname from preschool. I hate that she still dreams about him, even speaking his name in a whimper some nights.

But what I hate most of all is that he thinks she’s still in love with him and she’ll forgive him. No. Actually, what I hate is that I think that, too.

She can’t go back to him.

At Homecoming I was surprised by how much I wanted her, during the blizzard I fell in love with her without considering it a possibility, and at the Harvest Dance I became completely obsessed with her. Losing her is out of the question. I have no idea how Jason let her go, but I’m not going to let it happen.

I see the Volvo pull up to the barn, and Charlotte unloads groceries. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I need to be near her. When I open the side door to the barn, she’s balancing a bag of ice over her raised knee as she rearranges items in the freezer. She has on a strapless green dress that goes all the way to her ankles and silver flip-flops. It’s one of my favorites on her. Her blond hair hangs freely down her back, and just seeing her in this ridiculous position gives me a hard-on.

I walk over and remove the ice from her leg. She looks up at me. Her green eyes dance as her perfect smile spreads across her face.

“Hello, lover,” she greets me playfully. I can’t lose her…ever. Since the blizzard, she’s become the center of my world. Charlotte reassembles the contents of the freezer and replaces the ice.

“Are you okay?” she asks as she raises both hands to my head.

I close my eyes, trying to remember every millisecond of her touch. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I ask, knowing she can’t possibly. It’s difficult for me to understand.

“Show me,” she says with an inviting tone as she gently kisses me. I lift her up, kissing her the entire time, my hunger out of hand. She responds without any hesitation and wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her to the workbench and set her down on it. I hold her head in my hands and kiss her, savoring the taste of Charlotte. Her back arches and I know she wants more. More from me. As I kiss her neck, I pull down one side of her dress and play with her nipple. Her breasts are full and soft, and without even seeing them I throb in my pants. The trouble with Charlotte is I can never get enough, and at the same time she’s entirely too much.

Her legs are spread and I’m standing between them as Charlotte reaches down and unbuckles my belt. She is staring at me and I want to invade her. I want to enter her and never pull out. Her dazzling green eyes tell me every sweet word a girl can say while her deft little hands unzip my pants and release me, the dichotomy of Charlotte unraveling me.

I bend her back onto the table and spread her legs wide. She has no underpants on and the sight of her naked almost makes me come. I run my hand up her inner thigh, imagining me inside of her, and she shivers. I look up at her angelic face as I slip one finger into her. Charlotte closes her eyes and moans, a small smile resting on her lips. She is always so ready. My Charlotte. I enter her slowly and take a deep breath, trying to control myself. She opens her eyes and looks at me as if she can see straight through to my soul. If anyone can, it’s her.

“I’m yours, Noble,” she says.
Please say this to me every day for the rest of our lives.
I begin as slowly as possible, but when she takes her own hand to herself, I can no longer control myself. I pound away at her, over and over again, trying to leave a mark on every inch of her.
He…will…not…have…you.
I come, watching Charlotte crumble beneath me.

I bend over and rest my head on her shoulder. Charlotte wraps her legs tightly around my waist and her arms around my neck. “I love you, Noble,” she says, and I want to crush her into a million pieces, never to be found.

“I know.”
I just don’t know if I’m the only one.

“I’m going to New York tonight,” she says hesitantly, as if I’ll protest.

“Maybe I’ll go with you.”