Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella (5 page)

Charlie glanced at the man who’d ridden to her rescue twice today. She did trust him. She had no hesitation, no apprehension about that much. Just a confidence that he was one of the good guys.

“I do trust you, just like Ida did. I’m not sure why, but I do. Thanks, I’ll stay at your place tonight and clean Doug’s out tomorrow. Then on Monday I’ll start car shopping, job hunting, and . . .” The list seemed overwhelming. “Well, I’ll worry about all that on Monday.”

He frowned. “I don’t know why you trust me or why Ida did, for that matter. Neither of you know me.”

Know him? Charlie felt as if she’d known Dan all her life. And trust him? Yes, she trusted him, though it didn’t make an ounce of sense. From the moment he’d pulled his rig over and opened the door, she’d trusted him.

But did she trust herself?

A picture of Dan holding her flashed through her mind. No. She might trust Dan, but she couldn’t afford to trust herself.

“Then let’s go home,” he said.

“Let’s go home,” she echoed.

Dan eased his truck down the winding drive. “Here we are.”

Charlie looked at the small red ranch that sat nestled between the trees, looking as at home in their midst as if it had sprung up there. “It’s lovely.”

“I’m sure it’s not where Winslow was planning to move you.”

“Which makes it even lovelier.”

He pointed to the detached two-story, two-car garage. “That’s Doug’s place. We’ll get it cleaned up for you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He parked the car in the driveway and took her into the house via the side door. “I have two extra rooms, but no extra furniture, so you’ll take my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’ll take the couch.”

“Charlie, that wasn’t an invitation to debate. It was a statement.”

“But—”

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” They walked through a spotless, small kitchen that also served as the dining room. Dan pointed down a hall. “That’s the bathroom and this is my room.”

The door was open. A king-size bed and a single dresser dominated the room. There were no adornments on the wall. No hints of who this quiet man next to her really was. Then, on the nightstand, she spied a picture frame. She picked it up. A tired-looking woman with sad eyes and a forced smile was sandwiched between two small boys.

“Is this your family?”

Dan frowned. “Yes.”

“Your mother and brother?”

He simply nodded and opened one of the dresser drawers. “You can use these for pajamas until we get you something to wear or Winslow returns your suitcases.” He tossed a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt on the bed and held a second pair in his hands.

Charlie wasn’t going to be put off by talk of pajamas. “This one’s you, isn’t it?” she said, pointing to one of the almost identical dark-haired boys.

He nodded.

“I could tell.”

“How?”

“It’s your eyes. They’re not really any color, a sort of gray that changes in an instant. Kind eyes . . .”

She realized what she’d said and cut off the rest of her reasoning. She’d known the picture was Dan because there was something about the small boy that was echoed in the man who’d rescued her this morning.

Dan obviously wasn’t going to pursue her ability to sort him out from his brother. He simply nodded and, taking the second pajama set, walked toward the door. “I’ll go dig out an extra toothbrush for you, and if you need anything else, just holler. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said.

He simply nodded without turning back and then shut the door, leaving Charlie alone.

The room felt emptier without Dan. Charlie felt emptier as well.

What a day.

She’d left her fiancé at the altar, hitchhiked, taken a ride with a trucker, confronted her mother in a rare bid for independence, and come home with a stranger. And yet she felt strangely content.

She refused to lose that contentment tonight. She’d worry about all her problems tomorrow. Right now all she wanted was to get some sleep.

“Does anyone know of any reason these two should not be joined?”

Charlie glanced over her shoulder. Friends and family all watched.

The minister continued. “Then—”

“I do.”

“Not yet, honey,” Winslow said with a chuckle that was quickly replaced by a frown when she said, with more volume, “I do. I know why Winslow and I shouldn’t be married. I don’t love him, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love me.”

She turned to Winslow. “I’ve been trying to tell you—no, I haven’t just been trying, I have told you over and over, but you and my mother simply dismiss my concerns. I thought you were right, that it was just cold feet, but it’s not. I’m sorry to do this to you now, but I don’t love you and I can’t marry you.”

Charlie picked up her voluminous gown and ran. Ran through the door and down the stairs. Ran to freedom. Yards of white satin pooled at her feet; she lifted her hand, praying for a ride, when a semi pulled up.

“Stop,” she cried.

“Charlie, wake up.”

Dan’s voice reached into her dream and pulled her from it. “Dan?”

“It was just a dream, Charlie.”

“A dream?” she asked, her mind feeling thick and sluggish.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

A drink? No.

But something. She needed something.

“Would you hold me?” She felt him stiffen at the request. “Just until I go back to sleep?”

Dan found himself nodding, damned if he knew why. Charlie curled against him, and Dan stretched out next to her on top of the blankets, his arms still wrapped around her.

What nightmare haunted her sleep?

He brushed a short blond lock of hair off her face. Her eyes were shut and her breathing began to even out, and still Dan held her.

Charlie Eaton wasn’t beautiful. Cute, maybe. In the dark gloom of the room, he studied her. Definitely cute. Her nose made a delicate little swoop at the end, and though he couldn’t see them in the darkness, he knew it was lightly sprinkled with freckles.

She’d had a day of it.

But she’d been a trooper. No hysterical tears. She’d picked up her dress and taken to her sneaker-clad feet and moved on.

Dan stroked her hair and she snuggled closer, curling into his body as if she belonged there, as if she was meant for him. She made him want to protect her. Her knight. She’d called him that.

Dan knew he was nobody’s knight. In time, Charlie would discover that as well. In the meantime, what was he going to do with her?

He was just . . . he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but he was going to do it anyway.

CH
APTER FOUR

Charlie awoke with a start.

Where was she?

The previous day came rushing back to her in vivid detail and she flopped back onto her pillow.

No, not her pillow. Dan’s pillow.

What a mess.

Charlie lay on the bed and tried to decide what to do next. Right now she was supposed to be on a ship, cruising toward her happily-ever-after. Instead she was tucked in Daniel Martin’s bed, with a not exactly plush bank account, no home, and a slightly battered wedding dress to her name.

What she needed was a list.

No, what she needed was a job, then a place to live, a car, and clothes . . .

She couldn’t focus on everything at once.

Start with a job. She’d been working at the museum, but she’d trained her replacement, so she knew there were no openings there.

She had a degree in art history. But that and a buck would get her a cup of coffee. She might know the difference between a Manet and a Monet, but other than the art museum, where would that get her?

There was a soft rap on the door, and then it opened. “Breakfast.”

“Dan?”

A man who obviously hated to waste words, he nodded.

“Good morning.” The huskiness in her voice surprised her.

Charlie studied the quiet man who sat on the edge of her bed and handed her a coffee.

A man who brought her breakfast in bed? He was a prince among men—an Imperial trucker. She smiled at her private joke but didn’t share it. She had a feeling Dan wouldn’t think it was all that humorous.

“Did you have any more bad dreams?”

“More . . .” The word trailed off. Charlie remembered dreaming about her almost-wedding—actually, it was as close to a nightmare as she wanted to go. She remembered someone brushing her hair and holding her while she fell back to sleep. Dan.

The thought warmed her. “Thank you. How long did you hold me?”

When he didn’t answer, she prompted, “Dan?”

“Just a little while,” Dan admitted.

The word
while
was vague, so he wasn’t lying.

He might be glossing over the truth, but there was no way he was going to tell Charlie he’d held her until the sun rose. He wasn’t going to tell her that he’d watched her as the dark room gradually turned a rosy pink. No. He wasn’t going to tell her anything more than that he’d held her for a while.

She was eyeing him in a way that made Dan decidedly nervous. Gone was the runaway bride he’d picked up yesterday.

Gone was the confused, tired girl from yesterday evening.

Gone was the nightmare-ridden woman who had slept in his arms.

In her place was a woman who was eying Dan like he was some prize toy she’d like to play with. The thought made Dan’s entire body stiffen.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Eat.” He handed her a plate of toast. Well darkened toast with butter. Maybe it wasn’t the breakfast of champions, but it was better than trying something more elaborate. Toast he could handle. Anything more than that was iffy at best.

“So, when you’re not driving a truck and rescuing brides, you feed the hungry?”

“Something like that.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. Coffee making wasn’t one of his specialties.

“Thank you for thinking of it.” She paused a moment. “I seem to be thanking you a lot.”

“So stop.”

Charlie grinned. “No, I doubt that will happen. You’re too good a knight to ever leave a lady in distress, and I’m too good a distressed maiden not to need your services. So, I guess you’ll just have to get used to my thanks.”

They finished the meal in silence. Dan studied her. He seemed to spend a lot of time looking at her, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Her and those darned grass-green eyes. He might look, but no way was he going to go all poetic and start calling them emerald green or some other wimpy description.

“I left some clothes in the bathroom. I raided Doug’s closet. I think he’s closer to your size than I am.”

“You think of everything. Thanks. I’m going to take a shower and change.”

Images of Charlie showering bombarded him. He savagely beat them back.

“Okay.” Dan was surprised at how normal his voice sounded. He didn’t feel normal at all.

She hesitated at the door, as if she was searching for something to say. Finally she simply said, “Thank you,” and shut the door.

Dan was left with only a picture in his mind.

A picture that shouldn’t be there.

Charlie washed her hair, grateful to finally rid herself of the styling goop her mother had insisted she use. She fluffed the strands, allowing them to air dry. Her hair was thin enough that it didn’t take much longer to air dry than if she’d used a hair dryer.

She slipped on Doug’s hand-me-downs.

Dan was right, they were a better fit. Doug must be about her height, and though the waist did gap, her hips were wide enough to keep them in place. She put on a Mercyhurst T-shirt and used the brush Dan had laid out on the counter to style her short hair.

Efficient, quiet, kind, and sexy. Dan Martin was the Prince Charming every little girl dreamed of.

Her hair was close to dry and it was time to go. Just where she was going, what she was going to do, was still up in the air. Right now, she was going to start by leaving this bathroom and facing Dan.

“Da-dum.” She walked back into the room. “What do you think?” She pirouetted.

“Nice fit.”

Winslow would have waxed poetic over her look, but the words would have been just that,
words
. Dan’s two words, accompanied with the look of appreciation in his eyes, meant a great deal more.

“Come on,” he said, unwilling to sit through a fashion show. Watching Charlie was easy . . . too easy. And it was something he’d do well to avoid. “I’ll show you Doug’s place.”

He led her out the kitchen door and toward the garage. “You’re welcome for as long as you need to stay.” And because the thought of Charlie’s staying seemed too tempting, Dan added, “At Doug’s apartment.”

“I bet Doug would appreciate it if I’m out before he comes back to start school.” She smiled.

Dan’s eyes darted in her direction. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why, Dan, that was either a compliment or you were teasing. Which was it?”

She was the one teasing and Dan ignored it.

“There are stairs outside in addition to these,” he said as he led her up a flight of stairs inside the garage. “When we find you a car, you can park in here. Doug always does.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll give you this one, but I’d like to have another one made in case you lose it.”

“Okay. Do you think you can drop me off in town tomorrow so I can start looking for things like a car and clothes and—”

“I’ll take you shopping,” he offered.

“You can just drop me off, so you can get to work.”

“Work will wait.” He was the boss, though Charlie didn’t know that. He’d take off as much time as needed. “We’ll get you situated here today and—”

“Dan, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you almost married a man you didn’t love in order to keep your mother happy?” The words spilled out before Dan could stop them. The pain that flashed across Charlie’s face was quickly masked by anger. It made him wish he could just suck the stupid words back in.

Quietly, too quietly, she said, “Just because you helped me doesn’t give you the right to judge me. And I might have almost married Winslow, but I didn’t actually go through with it. I rescued myself.”

“And I did what?”

“You just helped. I could have handled it.”

“Could have, but didn’t.”

Why was he fighting with her, hurting her? She needed to be independent. He wasn’t the type of person who wanted someone depending on him.

Not Charlie. If she depended on him, she was bound to eventually be disappointed.

“What’s wrong with you? You were quiet all morning. And because you’re a man of few words, quiet for you is stone silent. Do you regret offering me a place to stay? Never mind, maybe you do, maybe you don’t, but I think it would be better if I arranged for a hotel room. I don’t need your—”

Dan remembered why he was normally quiet—words got him in trouble.

Before he really registered what he was doing, he pulled Charlie in his arms and his lips were moving in her direction.

Charlie silenced immediately.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop, otherwise, I’m going to see just what it is about your lips that has made me want to do this since the moment you climbed into my truck.”

“Yes,” she simply whispered and melted into his embrace.

It was wrong, he worried. But the feeling of wrongness disappeared as his lips touched hers. Soft but urgent, he tasted her for the first time and knew with utter certainty he could stay like this forever.

The fact that they weren’t right for each other, or more specifically, he was wrong for her, disappeared in that one touch. And an utter conviction that he needed this woman was born. Needed, but wouldn’t have.

Couldn’t have.

Dan let her go. Charlotte Eaton deserved more than he could ever give her. Oh, he could probably give her as much monetarily as good old Winslow had planned to. But Dan had known for some time that all the money in the world couldn’t turn him into the man he wanted to be.

Money couldn’t give him true confidence or make him happy. Money couldn’t make him someone like Con, someone who knew how to love and laugh—someone who could be part of a couple.

Dan was destined to be alone. He’d spent his whole life that way, and he was used to it. He’d bungle a relationship, which was why he avoided them.

“Well,” Charlie said. Her one word accompanied a surprised expression on her face.

“That won’t happen again,” he said by way of an apology.

“Oh? Was it so bad you don’t want to risk repeating it?” she asked. She sounded as if she was teasing, but Dan could see that he’d hurt her.

“No, it wasn’t bad, Charlie,” he said gently. “It’s just not going to happen again. Nothing could develop between us.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re too different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Charlie, I live my life on my own terms. Those terms don’t include a girl who can’t make up her mind about what she wants.”

“I made up my mind when I left the church.”

“But you could very easily unmake it. You’re . . . how old did you say?” He didn’t really need to ask. He remembered everything Charlie had told him, but he wasn’t about to let her know that he knew.

“Twenty-seven.”

“Twenty-seven,” he repeated. “And you still are trying to buy your mother’s approval by marrying a man you didn’t love. Your birth certificate might say one thing, but in actuality, you’re still very much a girl. When I get involved, it will be with a woman.”

“I see,” was her flat response.

“Good. That kiss was a . . .” He paused.

“An aberration,” she supplied.

“Right. And it won’t happen again.”

“Fine.”

The words
you’re still very much a little girl
burned like acid in the pit of Charlie’s stomach. They’d haunted her through the rest of the day and through the night, making sleep hard to come by.

For twenty-seven years she’d accepted the roles people cast her into. She tried to bend, tried not to be herself, to be too different. For twenty-seven very long years she’d tried not to make waves. All that had changed at her wedding that wasn’t. She hadn’t just made a wave—she’d made a tsunami, a tidal wave of gigantic proportion.

And what Charlie Eaton had discovered was that she liked the feel of waves. She only had one life, and from this day on she was going to live it to the fullest.

Maybe Dan was right, maybe she’d been a little girl trying to win her mother’s approval, but she’d grown up. Her wedding-that-wasn’t day ended up being her graduation from childhood to adulthood. Charlie had come to realize that she didn’t want to fit in anyone’s mold.

Not her mother’s.

Not Winslow’s.

And certainly not Dan’s.

Before her wedding, she might have simply accepted Dan’s words and believed that he didn’t want her. But she’d felt his need in his kiss. A need that was echoed by her own. Maybe Dan had been right about her, but he was wrong about who she was now. And he was also a liar. He wasn’t pushing her away because he didn’t like her, didn’t want her. No, he was pushing her away because he was scared.