| |
Rain beat against the windows and Charli winced when a branch slapped the side of the house. The storm was turning out to be much stronger than she’d expected. She made a face. It was a good thing a lot of their work was inside, but still...not being able to go in and out made things much more difficult and they couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
She’d already taken off last night for the bonfire and now they’d lost half the morning to that stupid raccoon! If they didn’t get this house done in time, Charli wasn’t sure she’d be able to live with the guilt of how that would affect Bronson’s charity.
With one last growl at the uncooperative weather, Charli went back to screwing in the electrical cover plate, making sure to line up the screws in the proper order. It always drove her crazy when the screws were turned every which way.
“Next,” she said sarcastically as she looked at the pile of cover plates. It was going to take her a long time to get the house done. There seemed to be hundreds of them, although Charli was fully aware that in a modern home there would have been twice as many.
Grabbing her stuff, she moved to the next wall and started wiring in the new outlet. A scrambling sound over her head had her ducking, like the raccoon would somehow come crashing through the ceiling. “So ridiculous,” Charli scolded herself. She mentally reminded herself again to buy that trap when she went back to town. The sooner they got rid of that pest, the better. She just hoped the animal didn’t cause too much damage before they could be taken care of.
“Charli?”
She paused. “Yeah?”
“I think I need help.”
Charli’s shoulders fell. This was the problem with having a partner. They were often needy and she didn’t want to deal with needy. She wanted someone who would just do the work and leave her to do her own. Squeezing her eyes tight, Charli pinched the bridge of her nose.
That’s not fair. He hasn’t been needy at all and Bronson has done everything you’ve asked him to do. “Not to mention you’ve gotten some amazing kisses out of the deal,” she reminded herself under her breath.
Climbing to her feet, Charli headed to the hallway and stairs. “What’s up?” she asked as she walked into the family room. Seeing the streaks of white on Bronson’s face made Charli pinch her lips shut to keep from laughing. He looked like a small boy who had been playing in his dad’s stuff.
Bronson glared at her. “You said no streaks. You didn’t say it would take a magician to make that happen.”
She lost it. The pouty look on Bronson’s face, the paint...the stress of the morning all came bubbling out of her in incessant giggling that she felt helpless to control. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to cover her mouth.”But you’ve...” She wiped at her whole face. “Got something...”
Bronson’s glare got even more ferocious, which only added to Charli’s amusement. “You think this is funny?” he asked, his voice calm. Too calm.
“Nope.” Charli clasped her hands in front of her and tried to school her face. “Zero fun, sir.”
Whether or not he recognized the quote, Charli couldn’t tell, especially as the large man sauntered her way, looking pleased with himself. He bent down to meet her face to face. “I think I need to show you what fun is.”
“I don’t think—” Charli gasped and cut off her sentence when a paint-coated finger drew a line down her nose. Her eyes felt like they would bug out of her head as he proceeded to draw lines over her cheeks and polka dots on her forehead.
“There.” Bronson smirked, apparently pleased with his art. “Now that’s fun.”
“You didn’t,” she said breathlessly, running for the bathroom. Please say he was teasing. But even as she thought it, Charli could feel the wetness drying on her skin. She studied her face, noting that her eyes were bright, looking alive and passionate, even with all the ridiculous white paint all over her skin. The realization that Bronson had put that there shook her to the core. Charli had been very content with her life before he showed up. So content, she was afraid of risking it in order to try for more.
But something had shifted ever since the tall, greek god of a man had come into Caro’s candy shop. Her skin looked flush with good health and her dark eyes seemed to dance, while energy zipped through her body in a way it never had before. And all because the dork in the other room liked to tease and force her to step outside her normal comfort zone. He was breaking through every boundary she had, one inch at a time.
She turned to leave the bathroom, forcing the too-wide smile into submission. Right now was not the time to tell Bronson that he was coming to mean something wonderful to her. Right now was the time for revenge.
She narrowed her eyes and stormed into the front room. Her anger must have been palpable because Bronson had the good sense to put the table between them.
“Hey...you look good in war paint,” he teased. “Uh...” His eyes darted around when she continued to slowly stalk his way. “Maybe we can talk this over?”
Charli didn’t say a word. He liked teasing, right? Well, now it was time for him to have a taste of his own medicine.
*****
HE WAS DEAD. BRONSON could see in Charli’s eyes that he’d finally gone too far and she was going to strangle him with his own tongue or something else equally as frightening.
The problem was, there was nowhere to run. The house wasn’t very large and there was a storm raging outside. All of which explained why he found himself stuck in the corner with nowhere else to go. “Now, hold on, Char,” he said, trying to soothe her anger. “It was just a bit of teasing.” He forced an awkward laugh. “You can take a joke, right?”
A single eyebrow went up as she continued her advance. She was like a sleek predator and her approach was as beautiful as it was terrifying. Part of Bronson just wanted to stand still and watch the show. The other part knew he wouldn’t like the end result.
“Charli,” he said, this time putting a warning in his tone. If begging didn’t work, maybe being in charge would. “You need to stop this right now. I’m your boss after all.”
“My boss, huh?” Charli pursed her lips and drew closer until Bronson was as folded into the corner as his large body would allow him to be. She put one hand on his chest and leaned in. “And as my boss, what is it you want me to do?”
It’s a trap. Bronson almost laughed at the immediate thought. It was obvious to all and sundry that Charli was baiting him, but he couldn’t stop now. She was finally doing something other than ordering him around and focusing on her work. “I want you to go back upstairs and get back to work.” There. Reverse psychology at its best.
“Okay,” she said, her voice smooth. “But first...” The hand she had been hiding came up and she began dragging her finger around his face.
Bronson relaxed, knowing he would live for another day, and gave her a dry look while she finished up. The glee in her eyes was addicting and he wished he could get her to play like this more often. However, when she dragged her finger over his lips, leaving a wet streak in its wake, Bronson had had enough of playing the victim.
“There.” Charli brushed her hands together with a loud clapping sound. “All finished. Now I’ll get back to work.” She spun, but Bronson grabbed her hips.
“Not so fast.” He spun them around, this time pinning her in the corner. “I think we need to make things a little more even,” he whispered.
“Oh? I thought we just did.” Charli challenged him with her defiant gaze.
“Nope. But don’t worry, I know just the way to fix it.” Bronson leaned in and took Charli’s mouth in a searing kiss. He didn’t bother working up to the intensity he was craving. Charli had started all this with her stalking, he was just finishing it. He knew she liked being in charge, but Bronson wasn’t going to let her run him over.
Charli sighed against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him know she didn’t mind when he took charge at all, and he grinned against her mouth.
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he said, letting his mouth trail to her cheeks and jawline.
“You wait until I really have reason to take you out,” Charli said breathlessly. “You’ll be singing a different tune.”
“I look forward to it,” Bronson joked as he kissed her racing pulse.
Before they could say anything else, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. The storm outside kept much light from filtering through the windows, and though there was enough light to see, it looked far from midday.
“What happened?” Charli asked as they straightened from the corner.
“Must be the storm,” Bronson said, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. “Guess I’ll have to go check the breaker.”
“I’ll come with you,” Charli said with a frown. “This is a good storm, but not enough that I’d expect the electricity to go out. We have storms like this all the time.”
“Come on, then,” he said, grabbing her hand. He fumbled for his phone, turning on the flashlight feature, all while holding her hand. “I’m guessing we’ll find the breaker in that utility closet?”
“Probably,” Charli replied. “Although...the water heater is in there, so I don’t know for sure.” She huffed. “I guess I should have checked for that when we first got started.”
Bronson gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll figure it out.”
They picked their way carefully through the room, stepping over all the construction materials which were mere shadows on the floor, looking eerily menacing, especially with the wind and rain still howling outside.
“Okay,” Bronson muttered under his breath as they got to the closet. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He let go of Charli and opened the small door. The room was tucked against the kitchen and under the stairs, which made it barely big enough for the water heater and vacuum cleaner it contained.
“Let me,” Charli said. She patted Bronson’s chest. “I’m smaller, so it’ll be easier for me to get around.”
“Okay, but be careful,” Bronson said. He handed her the light and she stepped inside the dark space, leaning around to get a good look at the walls.
“Got it,” Charli responded.
A squeaking noise hit Bronson’s ears as she opened the panel. Bronson waited, but Charli looked to be frowning. “What’s up?”
“None of the breakers are flipped,” she grumbled, her fingers dancing along the switches. She turned to him, the flashlight giving just enough light to see her face. “It really must have been the storm.” Her nose scrunched up. “Huh. I know they went through these neighborhoods not too many years ago and did a massive update for all the wires, especially since some were still fuses at that point, so I would have expected it to be a little more sturdy.”
Bronson shrugged. “Maybe a line went down closer to town or something?”
“Maybe...” Charli agreed, though Bronson could tell she didn’t believe it.
Truthfully, neither did he. The storm was a solid summer storm, with decent wind, but it wasn’t destruction-worthy. The odds of it taking out a powerline seemed small.
“Well, if we can’t fix it, we might as well learn to live with it,” Bronson said. He held out a hand, helping Charli step over a bucket of supplies on the floor. “Let’s grab lunch and then we’ll get back to work as best we can.”
“I suppose that’s all we can do,” Charli agreed. “We can’t waste any more time.” Her eyes flashed to his as she crossed in front of him coming out of the closet. “Someone likes to play instead of work, so it makes it hard to stay on schedule.”
Bronson chuckled and kissed her nose. “Someone else likes to work and never play at all.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Maybe if we’re lucky, between the two of us, we’ll find a happy medium.”
She pushed playfully at his hold. “At least wait until after the competition is over, huh? That deadline is approaching like a tidal wave.”
Bronson sobered at the reminder of why he was here in the first place. “True enough,” he said, stepping back and taking her hand once more. “Lunch and then work. It’s the best kind of day.”
Charli laughed softly, obviously seeing right through his lie, and Bronson smiled as they made their way back to the kitchen. This was always Canon’s complaint about him as well. Bronson’s brother seemed to love to tell others about how Bronson preferred play over work, but it wasn’t the real story.
Bronson preferred life over work. It was why he adored volunteering so much. He could settle down and work when it was necessary, but he also got to get up and move with the kids. They needed a mix of work and play and so did adults... They just seemed to forget. As usual, it was Janine who had taken the time to help Bronson see just how much he’d been missing by keeping his nose in dusty old books all the time instead of recognizing what was right in front of him.
And hopefully, Bronson could help give the same gift to Charli, no matter where they ended up finding themselves in the future.