Chapter 16

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CHARLIE

CHARLIE EYED the makeshift table as he set down the last plate. They were having Christmas Eve dinner in the tasting room since their party was too big to fit at the dining table in the private apartment over the garage.

The tasting room had several two-seater tables, where the house guests sat down to breakfast. Charlie had pushed several of the tables into one long line, then spaced the chairs along each side. He rolled his head, studying the arrangement. There was something off about it.

Charlie counted out their party again, nodding at each chair as he went. Beau, Mav, Dakota, Ryder, Mom, Dad, Quinn and his fiancée, my Sky, me . That was ten. He knew it was ten. Yet he'd put together enough tables and chairs for twelve.

Sabrina should be with them.

Charlie's heart clenched at the thought. Even though it had been years since she'd died, it suddenly felt like her death wasn't real. That, somehow, she would magically show up and join them. Charlie wanted to set a place for her. To see her sitting there beside him, smiling and laughing like she always had.

But Sabrina was gone. Had been so for a long time. Still, he'd automatically set that eleventh plate on the table like it was the most natural and expected thing in the world.

The twelfth one, though? That one confounded him to no end.

Because Charlie had started that place setting and—for some inexplicable reason—thought of Ward.

Charlie frowned. Ward wasn't part of the context of dinner. Charlie shouldn't have even thought of the man, yet he'd found himself suddenly feeling like Ward was supposed to be there with them, too.

It didn't make any sense!

He picked up the two extra plates, then paused there. It didn't feel right. Charlie set them back down, but even that left him feeling unsettled. The plates would go unused. There was no reason for them to be there.

Yet he couldn't seem to make himself pick them back up and return them to the butler's pantry.

Charlie rocked on his feet, unsure what to do.

“Hey, squirmy worm,” Dakota said, coming into the room. “What's wrong?”

Charlie eyed his brother, then studied the table again. He rocked faster as he gave Sabrina's name sign and pointed at one of the excess chairs.

Dakota winced. “I know,” he murmured. He came closer and put an arm around Charlie's shoulders. “I miss her, too.” He paused. “We could put her picture there, like we used to do. How's that sound?”

Charlie slowed his rocking as he considered the idea. They'd done that a lot right after Sabrina died, having her framed picture rest on the table in front of her usual chair. Charlie had finally let go of the habit after a couple years. It had gotten to the point that having the picture off the wall upset his need to have things always stay where they belonged.

As for here? Sabrina wasn't part of the context of this place. She'd never been here. Dakota hadn't even met Beau until after Sabrina had died.

Charlie tried to weigh all the big feelings inside him. Sabrina had never had dinner with them at this table, yet he suddenly couldn't stand the idea of not seeing her there with them.

“ Hhnn ,” Charlie whined, pointing at the chair.

“Okay,” Dakota murmured. “I'll be right back.”

Charlie watched his brother dart out of the room, then rocked himself as he waited. A couple minutes later, Dakota was back with a framed photograph in his hands. Charlie eyed the picture as his brother came closer. It was one of his favorites. Sabrina looked so happy in that one. So carefree and alive.

He snatched up a plate and bounced in place, squeaking with impatience and pointing at the table.

Dakota set the frame down where the plate had been. “How's that?”

Charlie considered it. He had to straighten the frame so it aligned parallel with the table's edge. Of course, now the table looked really uneven with eleven plates and one picture, but when Charlie considered taking the picture away, it made his stomach lurch.

He strode off to the butler's pantry and put the extra plate back on the shelf with the remainder of the matched set, then returned to the table.

Charlie found Dakota standing there, eyeing the table with obvious confusion on his face.

“Who's that place for?” Dakota asked, pointing at the eleventh plate.

Charlie felt his cheeks go hot. He curled his arms up and covered his eyes.

“Hey,” Dakota murmured. “Charlie? Talk to me. What's going on?”

Charlie shook his head. How could he explain when he didn't even understand it himself?

He lowered his hands and scowled at the extra plate. Having Ward there would make their number odd, even with Sabrina's picture to fill out the last space. Yet he still found himself wishing the man could join them. Why? Why did he want Ward to be there when the man threatened to take his Sky away?

“ Hhhnnnnnn! ” Why did he keep thinking about Ward?

“Hey,” Skylar said, coming into the room with a stack of cloth napkins. He quickly set them on the bar counter and strode over to join them. “What happened?”

“I have no idea,” Dakota said.

“Charlie?” Skylar murmured. He took another step closer, then held out his left arm. “Here. It's okay. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay.”

Charlie eyed Skylar's arm, then snatched it by the wrist, holding it where he wanted it. As soon as Skylar tugged his sleeve up to his shoulder, Charlie reached up and touched the heart tattoo, tracing the line all the way down Skylar's arm and back up to the starting point. He had to do it a second time before he started to feel calmer. Then a third, for good measure.

He felt himself smiling. Skylar's tattoos were one of his favorite things in the world. He'd honestly been a little horrified when Skylar started the project, all those years ago. Charlie would never be able to get a tattoo himself, knowing how much it would hurt. The thought of Skylar subjecting himself to pain was enough to make his skin crawl. Then again, his Sky had to stab himself with a needle every two weeks as it was, injecting testosterone. Of course, that was only a single stab, and the pain only lasted a few seconds.

All the stabs from a tattoo needle were an entirely different story, even if they didn't go all the way through the skin.

But as the designs had slowly come together over the months and years—especially once Charlie saw how all the pieces were connected—his horror turned to fascination. Then obsession. He loved the end result.

Even if the empty space inside the heart left the whole thing feeling unfinished.

He traced the tattoo again, then leaned against his Sky, resting their foreheads together. They stood like that in silence for a long moment. Once Charlie was sure he felt better, he pulled away.

Skylar gestured at the table. “We expecting someone else?”

“I was just trying to ask him the same thing,” Dakota said.

Charlie ducked his head when they both looked at him. Damn it! Why had he put out those extra plates? The one for Sabrina, he could at least justify by old habits. But the one for Ward? How could he explain that he wanted the man to be there even while he worried about Ward taking his Sky away from him? Charlie covered his ears. The confusion was getting so loud!

“Hey, Charlie?” Dakota asked, his voice muffled and hard to hear even though he stood right at Charlie's side. “Talk to me,” his brother insisted.

Charlie whined, rocking as he stood there, eyeing the eleventh plate. He turned away and ran into the sitting room, stopping at Ward's chair, but of course it was empty. Charlie ran back to the tasting room. He tried to make himself grab that extra plate and put it away, but his body wouldn't cooperate. A moment later, he was back in the sitting room again, curled up on the floor in front of the chair, wishing Ward could be there to hold him and make all the loud feelings go away.

He felt movement nearby. Charlie tipped his head to one side, his hands still over his ears, and saw both Dakota and Skylar crouched beside him.

“Hey, squirmy worm,” Dakota murmured. “It's gonna be okay.”

Charlie whined. He lowered one hand and pointed at the chair, then quickly covered his ear again, avoiding looking at Skylar the whole time.

Dakota dipped his head and looked at him from under his eyelashes. “Charlie, we're not gonna call Ward over here again. It's Christmas Eve. He's probably with his family. You wouldn't want to be pulled away from your plans, would you?”

Charlie scowled and shook his head. He hated when people tried to interrupt his plans or routines.

But he still wanted Ward.

Charlie pulled his hands away from his ears and covered his eyes instead.

“What if you ask him?” Skylar whispered. “I mean, worst he can say is no , right?”

Charlie heard silence for a long moment, followed by a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, you're right,” Dakota mumbled.

Charlie peeked out between his fingers. He saw Dakota pull out his phone, tap on the screen, and put the phone to his ear as he stood up and took a few steps away.

“Ward?” Dakota asked into the phone. “Hey, it's Dakota. Sorry to bother you again–” He broke off, listening, then said, “Yeah, actually.” Dakota listened again. “Are you sure? I don't wanna put you out…Okay. Yeah. Thanks. See you in a bit.” Dakota slowly lowered his phone, staring at it and shaking his head. “He's coming over,” he announced, sounding surprised.

Charlie held his breath, forcing down the urge to squeak with joy. He didn't want Skylar to hear it, but it also didn't make any sense. Why was he excited to see Ward when the man threatened to come between him and his Sky?

Still, the need to be in the man's arms slowly overpowered everything else. Charlie shot to his feet and ran to the front windows. He looked out at the dark view. The porch lights shone down on the parking lot, but beyond that, almost everything was black. Car headlights swept down the road, and lights from houses dotted the landscape like stars, but there was nothing else to see.

Skylar came over to stand beside him. “You okay?”

Charlie shook his head. No, he was not okay. He couldn't look at Skylar as he signed, Mad?

“Why would I be mad?”

Charlie hesitated, then wound up signing in a flurry. He told Skylar how he was mad, seeing Ward kiss him, and that Skylar should be mad, knowing Charlie wanted to see Ward. Despite all that, Charlie couldn't help wanting the man to be there. The feeling was too loud to be ignored.

Skylar turned to face him. “Charlie? It's okay. Really. I'm not mad. If he makes you feel better, then that's a good thing.”

Charlie ducked his head. There was something odd in his Sky's voice, but Charlie couldn't define it.

Skylar's words were true, though. Ward did make him feel better, but Charlie was ashamed to outright admit it. Ward gave him something that Skylar never could, something that Charlie couldn't even quite put into words yet. Which was probably for the best, since he didn't want Skylar to know.

Charlie turned to stare back out the window.

“It's gonna be a while before he gets here,” Skylar pointed out. “Why don't you go finish setting the table while you wait, yeah? It'll help pass the time.”

Charlie considered that. Skylar was right, of course. He turned and ran back to the tasting room, checking the table first before he grabbed the napkins Skylar had brought out. Charlie laid one at each place around the table, making sure they were neatly folded and parallel. Then he ducked back into the butler's pantry that connected the tasting room and the kitchen. Charlie gathered up silverware and distributed it around the table, making sure the utensils were aligned properly, the knives all facing the same way. He went back for water glasses, placing them precisely in relation to the plates. After one more trip to get wine glasses, Charlie circled the table again, studying his work.

The table looked unbalanced. An odd number of place settings felt wrong . Charlie considered putting out dishes for Sabrina, but then there would be no space on the table for her picture.

And Sabrina's picture had to stay. He could tolerate that better than not having his sister with them at all. Charlie reached out and touched the frame, then had to straighten it again.

Outside, tires crunched over gravel.

Charlie ran to the sitting room and looked out the front windows. A white truck had crested the top of the hill and pulled into the lot. Charlie rocked, watching as the truck stopped moving, the lights went out, and the driver's side door opened.

Ward got out and ran a hand back through his hair.

Charlie rocked faster. His anger and envy vanished at the sight of the man. All he wanted was for Ward to come inside, sit in his chair, and hold him until the rest of the loud feelings went away.

Ward crossed the lot, stepped up onto the front porch, and disappeared from sight right before Charlie heard the front door open.

Charlie darted away from the window and stopped in the open space where the foyer bordered the sitting room. He felt Skylar somewhere behind him, close but not right at his side.

Ward looked up as he pushed the door shut, his gaze going straight to Charlie. It flicked to Charlie's side—probably looking at Skylar—then came right back again. The man's eyes darkened, and the lines on his face faded. Charlie wasn't always good at reading people's expressions, but this one was loud and clear.

Rightness. And joy.

Charlie felt a smile pull at his lips. He couldn't explain it. What he should have felt was lingering anger and jealousy, but the longer the moment stretched out, the more he got the nagging sensation that Ward's expression fit.

There was something right about the three of them—Charlie, his best friend, and the stranger who made him feel oddly safe—all standing there together.

Though Charlie had no idea why.