| |
Charlotte woke up to an ear-piercing shriek.
What the hell? Was there a burglary?
She bolted upright, and the blanket fell down. She instinctively covered her breasts with her arms, not wanting the burglar to see her naked.
Except the blankets were unfamiliar. Where was the quilt that her mother had made? Had the burglar stolen it?
No, the shrieking was coming from Mike. She was at Mike’s apartment.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
He was clutching the blankets and looking at the wall. He seemed incapable of proper speech and merely pointed.
It looked like a bug of some sort. She stood up and walked over to it.
“It’s just a spider,” she said.
“Yes, it’s a fucking spider.”
“You’re still scared of spiders?”
“What does it look like?”
“I’ll get rid of it, don’t worry.” Charlotte grabbed a tissue from his dresser. “Come here, little spider, I won’t hurt you.”
Once she had the spider in hand, she walked to the washroom, but not to flush the spider down the toilet. Instead, she grabbed a towel to cover herself, then brought the spider to Mike’s balcony and flicked it from the tissue onto the railing.
“Go on,” she said. “Find somewhere else to live and catch all sorts of delicious insects.”
When she returned to the bedroom, Mike covered his face with his hands.
“Don’t worry, it’s gone,” she said.
“This isn’t how I expected the morning to go.”
“What did you imagine?”
“I don’t know. Something more romantic than me waking you up with a scream? This is the first time I’ve seen a spider in this apartment.”
“Spiders are useful.” She dropped the towel and slid into bed beside him. “They eat other things you might not want. And their webs are pretty cool.”
“Yeah, you’ve told me before. It doesn’t change anything. Plus, spiders can be poisonous. Sorry, venomous.”
“Not sure we have any venomous spiders in Canada, unless they’re escaped pets.”
“Thanks for that.”
“I’m happy to remove all your spiders.” She patted his shoulder. “I’m obligated to like spiders, since I was named for one.”
This earned her a chuckle. “Right. I forgot about that.”
Charlotte had been born less than a year after her parents had arrived in Canada. As the story went, they were at her aunt and uncle’s house when her mom was five or six months pregnant. Her aunt and uncle had been in Canada for several years and had a little girl, who was eight at the time: Charlotte’s cousin Sara. When they were discussing baby names, Sara said she was reading a famous book with a character named Charlotte, and wasn’t that a nice name?
Charlotte’s mother thought that yes, it was pretty, and when Sara mentioned that the character was very clever, the baby’s fate had been sealed.
If they had a girl, she’d be named Charlotte.
Of course, Sara had failed to mention that this very clever character in this very famous book was actually a spider...until Charlotte’s first birthday.
Okay, so Charlotte hadn’t precisely been named for a spider, but she’d gotten her name because of Charlotte’s Web.
“Does it bother you to be dating a woman with a spider’s name?” she asked.
“I think I’ll manage.” Mike smiled at her. “God, I’m embarrassed. Honestly, spiders are the only thing I’m afraid of.”
“How convenient that I was here to act as your spider-removal service.”
“It certainly was.” He kissed her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
She hesitated. “I’m not used to sharing a bed. It took me a while to fall asleep.”
“I’m sorry. I could have slept on the couch—”
“No, no. It’s fine.” She’d gotten to lie in bed next to him, still feeling the tiniest bit giddy. She supposed she’d get used to this soon enough.
“How about I make you breakfast?” he said. “What do you usually have?”
“Usually I stumble out of bed and make coffee, then dump some cereal into a bowl.”
“Pancakes? Scrambled eggs and bacon? Whatever you like.”
She nearly told him not to bother, even though both sounded delicious. Someone else cooking breakfast for her seemed like too big of an imposition.
But he had an eager look on his face, and if he wanted to cook for her, she’d let him.
Damn, he was cute.
And the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt was certainly helping.
“Pancakes,” she said.
* * *
Charlotte sang in the shower.
Mike added this to his list of things he knew about her.
Loves spicy salmon rolls. Looks really good naked. Not afraid of spiders. Sings Disney songs in the shower.
Yes, she was singing “Beauty and the Beast.”
Then she immediately launched into “Gaston.”
Even though she had a lovely voice, she’d probably be mortified if she knew he could hear her from the kitchen.
He didn’t make pancakes often. It felt lavish to make them just for himself, but Charlotte was in his apartment. He was glad she’d chosen pancakes, but he would have happily made whatever she liked.
God, he still couldn’t believe this was happening.
It had taken a lot of courage to tell her that he didn’t want to be her practice sex partner, and he’d expected rejection, even as he poured out his feelings.
And now, here he was. Making pancakes and coffee for her.
Several minutes later, Charlotte appeared, wearing nothing but a towel.
He nearly pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.
When she took a seat at the breakfast bar, he placed a large cup of coffee in front of her, and she looked at him with gratitude.
He tried not to think about the fact that he’d shrieked over a spider. At the very least, he should have uttered a long string of curse words instead.
“I like your outfit,” he said. “A short, strapless dress made of fluffy blue fabric. Very fashionable.”
“Your towels are indeed very fluffy.”
“Thank you for complimenting my towels.”
When he waggled his eyebrows, she laughed.
Seriously, how was this real?
He flipped her pancakes onto a plate and placed it in front of her, along with appropriate cutlery. Next, he grabbed the butter and bottle of maple syrup.
“Real maple syrup,” she said.
“Of course. You should always have the best.”
“Brad preferred butter-flavored table syrup. Store brand.”
“He preferred that? And he’s Canadian?”
Charlotte laughed again, and Mike started on the next batch of pancakes, feeling uneasy.
She’d mentioned her ex, who’d been with her for three years.
Mike shouldn’t be bothered. It was a casual comment, and after Brad, Charlotte had sworn off dating for five years. The idiot had publicly proposed to her at a fucking baseball game. He was no competition for Mike, who was making her pancakes with real maple syrup for breakfast.
Had Brad made her pancakes? With his stupid table syrup? How many times had they eaten breakfast together like this?
Charlotte was entitled to have a past, and Brad was firmly in the past. But Mike couldn’t help thinking about how he didn’t have a past like she did.
While she’d dated, he’d been in therapy, trying to straighten out his messed-up thoughts.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned back to Charlotte as his pancakes cooked.
“You might enjoy this.” He flipped to Angela’s latest messages on his phone. “My niece did them. I can’t say I spent more than a second looking at the spider, though.”
Charlotte took the phone. “They’re very good.” She paused. “Does your sister have any other kids? Is she married?”
“Not anymore.”
Angela had gotten married while in university. She’d been eager to escape their parents. But her marriage hadn’t been healthy, and she’d been divorced for many years now.
“How are your mom and dad?”
He clenched the spatula. “Alive, as far as I know. I don’t talk to them anymore.”
“Shit, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Since they were in a relationship of sorts now, was he obligated to provide details?
Not yet, he figured. And it wasn’t like she knew nothing. He hadn’t talked much about his home life as a kid, but they’d always hung out at her place, and she’d had some idea.
“I’m out of practice at this morning-after business,” she said.
“Me, too. Don’t worry about it.”
They smiled at each other.
A few minutes later, he had his pancakes on a plate, loaded with lots of maple syrup—today was a special occasion, after all—and they were eating together.
“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked.
Charlotte pulled something out of her purse. A little day planner, from the looks of it. The illustration on the front was of a large tree with gears in its trunk and among its twisted roots. It reminded him of Nautilus.
She flipped to this week’s pages, and to his surprise, they were covered in cute stickers.
She immediately closed the day planner.
“Nope, nothing planned for today,” she said in a rush.
He gently pulled the planner from her hands and opened it to the first page. There was a border of delicate blossom stickers.
“These are nice,” he said.
She glowered at him.
“What?” he said. “I like them.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.”
“I’m not being sarcastic. They’re nice stickers. Not what I was expecting, but—”
“Exactly.” She pulled the planner away from him and stuffed it in her plain black purse. “They are most un-Charlotte-like.”
“I was right. You do talk about yourself in the third person.”
She gulped her coffee. “There isn’t enough caffeine in my bloodstream to talk about my cutesy planner.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. But I’m happy to serve you more caffeine.” He picked up the coffeepot and poured the rest of the coffee in her mug. “You know what we can talk about instead? Rather than my family and your wicked awesome planner?”
“What?”
“The precarious knot holding up your towel dress.” He touched a finger to the knot just above her breasts.
“Yeah, you’re interested in that, aren’t you?”
“Very interested in what I could do once I undid it with a flick of my fingers.”
Once they finished their pancakes and coffee, they spent the rest of the morning in bed.