"What did you say?" Grace blurted, her cheeks a bright crimson.
"You're tipsy, and we have a long day tomorrow. I should get you back to the hotel safe." His choice of words almost screwed everything. Sure, he wanted to get her into bed, naked and pressed against his body.
She'd made it perfectly clear that wasn't about to happen.
Not right away.
He'd have to work her over, and not in the way he really wanted to.
"Yeah, I think I should've just had one cider. My head is a little… dizzy. And we have a long day tomorrow."
The waiter returned and before Grace could grab the bill, Charles slipped the waiter eighty dollars and told him to keep the change.
He just wanted to get Grace out of there.
Charles jumped up and slid her chair out, allowing her to stand. Once they stepped outside, he slipped his arm around her, resting on her shoulders. He was grateful when she didn't protest or move away.
She fit perfectly against his body.
He couldn't let this go.
They walked in silence, just enjoying the sounds of the night. There was no one else on the street, except for the occasional car. He had so many things he wanted to say, needed to ask, and she was inebriated so, he hoped this was the right time. He wasn't taking advantage of her. So he told himself.
But what to start with?
"So, ah, Grace. If you won't do a relationship while doing a show, does that mean you'll be breaking some poor guy's heart tomorrow?"
She smiled, her cheeks were red from the alcohol.
Or maybe the question?
"Nah. I've been single for a while. It's just me and my plants."
Good. No one to interfere.
"You at least keep in touch with friends, family, right?"
"Nope. Don't have any."
He arched an eyebrow. Surely she was saying those things because she was drunk, not because it was true. "Damn, you're a cheap date. I've never had a girl get this drunk on me before."
Grace stopped walking, slipped his arm off her shoulder, and whirled to face him, placing her warm hands on his chest. "I'm not a cheap date. I didn't have lunch! And we're not on a date!"
Rather than snapping back—which was his normal response when someone yelled at him, he flashed his million-watt smile. Putting his hands over hers, Charles could keep her close. "I meant no disrespect. I just can't see how a woman as beautiful and talented as you would choose to have no friends."
"I have friends," she barked. Grace pushed off him, breaking their contact, and started walking away. "I just don't talk to them often. I'm too busy. Theater life and all."
It sounded like excuses. There was something underlying in there. Something he was determined to find out.
Maybe not tonight, but soon.
"Everyone needs someone to talk to. I at least have my older brother, even if we don't always get along. I know I can call him. Do you have someone?"
She stopped, her head tilted up at the tall building beside their hotel like she was contemplating something grand. It took much longer than it should have for her to answer; it made his heart beat a little faster.
Could things really be that simple for him?
That easy to slip into her life?
"I have Hope. We talk on the phone... sometimes. Maybe once a month, or every two months. I can't remember." She sighed. "I really miss my friend."
Yeah, she's drunk.
Charles slipped his arm back around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. They were right in front of their hotel, but she hadn't seemed to notice. "Gracie. We're gonna be real good friends. Would that be all right with you, if I be your friend? You can call on me if you need someone to talk to. My twin sister says I'm a very good listener."
She looked his way, but her eyes didn't really focus on his face. "You have siblings? I thought you were an only child."
He tried not to laugh. "Yeah, I have a few. My twin sister, Angel and I, are the youngest, then there's Barbara, Lisa, and the oldest is Nick."
"Wow. I'm jealous. I never had siblings. Just Mom and Dad. Until they were gone. And Hope. Sometimes I have Hope. I wish we weren't too busy all the time. I miss her."
She was cute when she was drunk. She kept repeating herself, but it didn't bother him. His heart melted when she smiled, her eyes closing slowly, then opening ever so slightly.
"I like you, Charles."
His heart slammed against his ribs; his stomach tightened.
"You can be my friend. I think you'll be a good friend."
Her hooded eyes were seducing him, whether or not she meant to. Her rosy lips were beckoning.
Grace blinked slow and sexy again, and when her eyes shut, Charles leaned down and took possession of her lips.
His lips were warm and inviting, teasing hers to dance with him.
Grace gave in, not thinking about, well… anything; just enjoying the sweet taste of him.
His arms snaked around her, taking full control of the situation, their bodies melting together, fitting perfectly.
His fingers found their way to the nape of her neck, into her hair, gripping with the right amount of pressure, giving her a thrill she'd never experienced.
Her heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her veins along with the alcohol, fueling her in a way she'd never known.
She couldn't breathe.
Grace had to break away and catch her breath.
Charles relaxed his hold on her, sliding his hand down her arm to grab her hand. Without speaking a word, he pulled her along, entering the hotel and rushing to the elevator. He pressed the second-floor button and as the doors closed; he pulled her back into his arms.
She lost not only her breath but her mind at that moment.
He knew what he was doing; his mouth was made of magic.
The elevator door opened, and they giggled like children when he dragged them down the hallway to her room.
Grace couldn't get her key out of her back pocket, her hands weren't working like they should.
"Let me help you," he whispered in her ear.
Goosebumps erupted up into her hairline. She handed him the keycard, and the door opened. She stepped in and the cold air-conditioned breeze hit her with a chilling blast, cooling not only her cheeks but her lust.
Charles stepped up behind her and moved her hair to rest on one shoulder so he could begin raining kisses on her neck. He pressed his body close to hers, so close she could feel his erection against her hip.
Like a bucket of ice water, reality came crashing down.
She was about to ruin everything she'd built up, worked hard for.
Grace faced Charles, anger now fueling her.
"You need to get the hell out of here!" She pushed at his chest.
"Grace?"
"No! Get out!" She reached around him to open the door, expecting him to be the gentleman and just leave. "You're trying to take advantage of me!"
Charles had encouraged all the alcohol, even when she'd voiced her reservations. He'd just wanted to get down her pants!
She wasn't that kind of girl!
Instead, he reached for her, cupping her cheek and leaning in to kiss her again. "Just one kiss," he whispered against her lips.
How had he gotten so close?
"No. Charles, leave now." Her voice hid the shaking her body was doing.
He turned and walked out, not saying a word as the door closed behind him.
Shock rolled over her.
Grace rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, then put her wet hands on the back of her neck, trying to cool down further.
How could she have let things go that far? She'd acted like some hormone-raging teen. Nothing like her rational self.
How can he affect me like that?
She had sworn off love years ago; she'd never love another, in any shape or form. Taking on characters' love lives for a short period of was all she needed.
That and the occasional romance novel.
They were safe.
They didn't cause unnecessary pain.
Had the careless kisses she'd just shared with Charles, ruined her chance of a lifetime?
What do you think you were doing?
Her head was still fuzzy, despite the rude awakening.
Not only is he eight years younger, I can't let anyone into my heart.
Never again.
She quickly undressed, then turned on the shower, not waiting for it to get warm.
It didn't matter if it was cold or not. The water helped wash away her emotions and her fears.
Grace crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, cocooning herself in the blankets.
She'd have to confront Charles in the morning.
We can't start a show like this. I've dreamed of playing this role since I was a child. I can't screw this up!
She fell asleep with his scent still lingering in the room.
Charles opened his door, set the keycard on the nightstand and looked at the roses sitting in a beer bottle on the desk.
The sweet aroma of the flowers filling his room still made him think of Grace.
Her lips had been rose-red, and as soft as a petal. She'd opened up to him, much like a bud in bloom.
Then shut him down the moment things got hot.
What the hell?
He would not give up.
She'd said she gave up relationships, but she can't really mean it.
The anger in her voice had said she was serious. At least when it came to intimate relationships.
With three sisters, Charles had become very good at being the 'friend' to many a girl. His sisters' friends had come to him for advice on boys, or a shoulder to cry on. They usually left with a smile on their faces, and it wasn't simply because he listened.
He sat at the desk, continuing to stare at the roses. What he wanted was a shock, but he couldn't follow through. Yet. He glanced at the clock. Had enough time had passed?
After waiting almost forty-five minutes, Charles stood, reached for a stem, and headed out the door; Grace's room key in his other hand.
He held his breath as he slowly opened her door.
The room was dark, but the light from the hallway still illuminated her.
Charles stepped into the room and quietly shut the door, waiting for a response from his Sleeping Beauty.
Nothing happened.
She was deep asleep, her breathing soft and soothing.
He could stay there all night, just looking at her.
They had a long day ahead of them, and he needed sleep.
Charles crept up to the edge of her bed, taking her into his lungs and holding it there. He reached across her to place the single red rose on the pillow beside her, so when she woke, it would be the first thing she saw.
He set her room key on the nightstand, close to her purse and with great care, then slipped out the door.