The Lovely Garden by Emma Mohr Page A

reassuring smile on my face. “I do expect you to tell me though. When you feel it’s right.” He didn’t need me being pushy right then, and I could wait.
    There was a hint of a smile until his face fell, and he leaned heavily into me with a sigh. “I don’t have any extra clothes,” he muttered to himself more than me.
    “Yes, you do.” There were the clothes we had left here after eating breakfast at my dad’s diner. I had washed them, meaning to return them, but hadn’t seen him since Monday.
    Charles worked up a smile this time, his eyes glowing. “Never thought I would be so happy to see a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.”
    A light laugh came out of me. “Towels and washcloths are under the sink. I only have girly soap and shampoo, so you’ll have to deal with that.” Some guys have a problem with it, some guys don’t. Charles was the latter, just giving me a shrug and said “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
    I gave him one last peck on the cheek before heading back into the living room, closing the door behind me. I headed to the kitchen and uncorked the bottle of wine. Grabbing it and the wine glasses, I took them into the living room, giving the bottle some time to breathe.
    By the time I reached the living room and settled into my chair, the shower had turned on. I didn’t know what to do, so I turned on the TV and started to flip through the channels. There was nothing that caught my interest. My mind kept wandering to Charles and what had happened to him. And when it wasn’t reeling about that, it was imaging what he was doing in the shower. The water rolling off of his muscular back. Soap suds sliding down his front forming pools at his feet. The rag running up and down his body.
    My panties started to get soaked, and I needed something to distract me. Sex wasn’t currently on the menu, considering the state Charles had been in. He was almost catatonic. What he needed was some comfort, which I could provide for him.
    The shower turned off and soon he joined me in the living room, looking very refreshed. “Better?” I asked as he spread himself out on my ugly, yet comfy, couch. He gave me a small smile and nodded. “Good.” I got off my chair and moved to him, placing myself between his legs. My hands wound around his waist and I rested my head on his chest. His fingers found my hair and started to play with it. “Charles?” I called to him softly.
    “Hmm?” He answered, winding a strand of hair around his finger.
    I squeezed him tighter. “I don’t ever want to see you like that again.” My eyes met his. “I know we’ve only been together for a really short time, but I care about you. Seeing you like that scared me.” I gave him a mock grimace. “I thought I was going to have to fight someone. I’m terrible at fighting.”
    He chuckled and my chest warmed. That was what I wanted to hear. I couldn’t stand to see him in that state, and I truly didn’t ever want to see it again. “Sweet, Amy. Always caring for others.” More than he knew. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He traced my cheekbone with a gentle finger.
    I shook my head as much as his chest would allow. “It’s not your fault. It’s whoever did that to you’s fault. And I can say, I don’t like them very much.” There was no doubt in my mind that it was his sister that had attacked him. With the tidbit of information Rebecca had given me and his reaction at seeing Ava in the garden were enough clues to tell me that. The question was why? Why did she hurt Charles and how could she? He was her brother! You’re supposed to protect your siblings, not hurt them.
    “If I have my way you’ll never meet them.” I didn’t think I wanted to meet her anyways. It wasn’t going to go well.
    A silence fell between us. Listening to his heart and him playing with my hair nearly lulled me to sleep, and so I needed to break it. “Why didn’t you ask me out sooner?” It had been bothering me since Monday. He had said