Eyes narrowing with a mix of elation and anger, he folded his arms. “You didn’t tell me you were back in town.”
Her nervous tongue darted out to skim her lips. “No, I didn’t really tell anyone...”
He wasn’t just anyone...or maybe he was. Fuck.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she asked, “How have you been?”
“Great. You?”
At his clipped response, one slender shoulder lifted. “All right.”
Merely all right? Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks: she was moving in. Surely not alone.
Tension ramping up, he looked beyond her. “Did you bring your family?”
His tone, which even to him sounded on the verge of snide, had her pulling away. Not physically, but he felt her emotional withdrawal all the same.
She tucked back some flyaway hairs. “It’s just me. My grandma passed away. Dad, too.”
“Your dad?” Hell. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. He remembered her father as a nice guy, friendly, hardworking, and very dedicated to his family.
“Mom actually remarried, so...” Another slight shrug.
So many changes—but did that mean she was or wasn’t married?
She looked away, only to land her gaze right back on him. “We lost Grandma three years ago. Alzheimer’s. A year later Dad found out he had pancreatic cancer, and from there, everything happened so fast. My mom...”
Again, she didn’t finish, and it occurred to Colt that they were standing in the yard, too much space between them because she could feel his animosity. Damn it, he had no reason to be angry. He had a full life—and likely she did as well.
Pasting on a smile, he moved closer. “Your mom?”
She absently waved a hand. “I didn’t mean to lay out the past few years like that. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Closer now, he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Your mom is okay?”
“Now, yes.” Charish’s gaze kept going to his bare chest, then away. “She had a rough time after everything with Dad.”
Sounded like Charish had really had her hands full. He couldn’t imagine something like that happening with his dad. “I really am sorry.”
She gave a slight nod. “Pancreatic cancer is a terrible thing. He wasted away right before our eyes. For a little while there, I thought I’d lose Mom, too.”
“She’s doing better now?”
“Much. About ten months ago, her friend Sheri introduced her to her brother-in-law and they hit it off.” Charish shared a secret smile. “Mom had no interest in dating, definitely not in remarrying, but Hank was relentless in his attentions, and finally she allowed herself to fall in love again. He’s been really good to her.”
He liked seeing her smiles far more than those shadows in her eyes. “And you?”
“We get along great. You’d like Hank.” Glancing around the yard, Charish inhaled deeply. “He reminds me of Clearbrook. Very down-home and comfortable, easy and friendly.”
Taking another step toward her, Colt studied her face. She no longer had a tan, and she didn’t wear a speck of makeup. Little wisps of hair had fallen from the loose knot to cling to her temples and along her neck. The afternoon heat flushed her cheeks.
All in all, she looked incredibly pretty. “What about you?”
Confused, she asked, “What about me?”
“Married?”
Color deepened in her face and she looked away. “No. You?”
He gave an abrupt “No.” Before the simmering annoyance could break free, he bent to gather up the stuff she’d dropped.
“I can get it.” She knelt down, too.
As if she hadn’t been away at all, he breathed in the stirring scent of her skin and hair. Still the same.
With the same effect.
Fuck that. Ignoring her protest, he got everything back in the boxes, then handed her the lightest one. He gathered up the others himself. “Lead the way.”
Nonplussed, she stared at him, swiveled her gaze to the front door, then back to his face. “Really, my whole van is full. I can handle—”
Nudging his way around her, Colt went to the front steps and up to the porch. Seemed to him that was answer enough.
She wanted to dismiss him.
He wouldn’t let her.
Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, they were old friends. She knew him well enough to know he’d have offered a helping hand to anyone, but to someone he’d once loved? He’d never walk away.
Besides, it was his fault she’d dropped everything.
They stared at each other, him waiting and resolute, her hesitant...until she shook her head and laughed. Giving in, she joined him and unlocked the door.
He glanced around at the empty interior. “Where do you want these?”
“You can just set them anywhere.”
Clothes, shoes... He guessed, “Bedroom?” Knowing the way, he headed there before she answered. Many times he’d been in her house. Her folks had liked him. Hell, everyone liked him.
And she’d cut him loose anyway.
He tried not to resent that as he set the boxes on the floor of the room that had been hers.
Used to be, furniture crowded it, every surface filled with girlie things like brushes and makeup, jewelry and stuff she’d saved: a dried flower from the woods, a small photo of them together.
Any gift he’d ever given her.
Now it was empty and freshly painted, with no sign of the past they’d shared.
Charish came in behind him. “Thanks. I can—”
Stepping around her, pushed by feelings he didn’t want to dissect, he headed back out.
“Damn it, Colt.” Hustling after him, she all but chased him to the open van.
Hearing her curse was kind of funny, making his mouth twitch as he fought a smile. “Damn it, Charish,” he mocked.
Hands on her hips, she frowned.
That was funny, too. “I don’t recall you having such a temper.” At least not with him.
“I don’t recall you being this pushy,” she shot right back.
Age had given her some gumption. Grudging respect brought a grin. Already knowing the answer, but willing to call her on it, he asked, “Problem?”
She deflated. “What are you doing here, Colt?”
Deliberately misunderstanding, he asked, “In Clearbrook?”