she wondered, this afternoon’s events playing out in erotic detail in her mind. “I . . . uh . . . we . . .”
“Met up again in Norman’s a few nights ago. Rick told me.” Raina ignored Charlotte’s exhale of relief and merely patted her hand once more. “You never know what might develop after years apart. I’m here to give you a chance to put that sexy outfit to good use. Sam’s going to watch the punch bowl, aren’t you?” Raina reached behind her and pulled the town’s ultimate loner into view.
“Hi, Sam.” She was surprised he’d ventured into a crowded function, but free food and drink might explain that.
“I wanted to ask you how you two were acquainted,” Raina said.
“She’s just a sucker for an old man,” he muttered. Charlotte nodded. She’d always had a soft spot for the loner.
“And Sam sometimes does errands for me.” Mailing letters and such in return for cash that enabled him to buy food, she thought, but she didn’t say that out loud.
He was a proud man few in town bothered to know or understand. But even as a little girl, she’d remembered seeing her mother reach out to him. Charlotte was saddened, on her return to Yorkshire Falls, to see Sam’s solitary life had stayed the same, and she’d gone out of her way to help him without directly offering charity.
“Well, now he’s going to watch the punch bowl,” Raina said.
“Freeing you to dance with me.” Rick Chandler appeared on the opposite side of the table, cornering her in front of his mother with a wink.
The last thing Charlotte needed was time alone with another Chandler man. “As long as I’m being relieved, I think I need some air.”
“You just got some, didn’t you?” Raina called her on her bluff.
Rick met her gaze. “I need you to bolster my reputation around here. The women are turning me down left and right.” He eyed her pointedly and she understood he wanted to talk without creating a scene or a distraction. Police business, probably. She still owed him the list of customers who’d purchased or ordered the handmade panties from her shop.
Better cooperate with Yorkshire Falls’ finest, Charlotte thought. “I think a dance will do me more good than fresh air.”
Rick pushed the table back to make room for her to slip through.
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“And that means I can get back to my . . .” Raina’s voice trailed off and she placed a shaky hand on her heart.
“Mom?” Rick asked.
“I’m okay. It’s just that maybe coming out tonight wasn’t such a good idea. Palpitations.” She glanced away, toward the far wall. “I’ll just get Eric to sit with me until he can take me home. He’s my . . .”
“Date,” Rick offered, guiding his arm around his mother’s waist. He shot Charlotte a worried glance, but pasted a smile on his face, obviously playing it light with his mother. “You can say it. You’re here with your date.”
“I’m here with my doctor.”
“Who’s suddenly paying exclusive attention to one patient?” Rick smiled knowingly at his mother, then gestured across the room, calling the doctor over.
“It’s like you said, I’m his patient.”
But Charlotte noticed Raina couldn’t meet her son’s gaze.
“Who’s the lucky woman tonight?” Raina asked in an obvious subject change.
“I told you they won’t have anything to do with me.” He winked Charlotte’s way.
“What happened to Donna Sinclair?” his mother asked.
“She only wanted me for my body.”
Raina rolled her eyes and Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh at the byplay, though she too was concerned about Raina’s health.
“Erin Rollins?”
“Last month’s news, Mother.”
“Then maybe you could try cheering up Beth Hansen.”
At the mention of Beth’s name, Charlotte started, then grew concerned. “Why? Isn’t she with David?”
Charlotte didn’t expect Beth and her fiancé here, not when they hadn’t seen each other going on two weeks.
“I haven’t seen Beth but I hear her fiancé’s a no-show and figured she’d need a shoulder,” Raina said.
“But that could just be hearsay.”
Charlotte sighed. “I’ll stop by on my way home and talk to her.”
Raina nodded. “One of you should. Now, Rick, since Charlotte’s taken that job, how about you ask Mary Pinto to dance? She’s over there by her mother’s wheelchair.”
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He shook his head.
“Lisa Burton?” She pointed to the conservative schoolteacher standing by the wall.
He sighed. “I can find my own dates, Mom. And I’m here talking with Charlotte now. Are you trying to scare her away?”
“Funny. From what I hear of your brother’s behavior when Charlotte’s near, I thought Charlotte was his concern, not yours.”
Before Charlotte could react, Dr. Fallon came up beside them. He promised Rick he’d sit with Raina until she got her strength back, and then he’d drive her straight home. He steered Raina away with a firm hand at her back.
Rick stared after them, amused by the new couple, but obviously very concerned about his mother’s health. “She can’t be in better hands,” Charlotte said.
“I know.”
“Anyone ever tell you you Chandlers are like hurricanes?” she asked, speaking of Raina’s references to Roman.
Rick shook his head. “Not lately, but it’s as good a description as any.”
“I adore your mother, but sometimes she can be . . .”
“Blunt,” Rick said.
“An admirable trait when aimed at others,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Twice as admirable when she’s accumulating business for me. It’s just that . . .”
“She embarrassed you talking about Roman.”
Charlotte nodded. “Before we dance, do you want to make sure your mother’s okay?”
“No. You said it yourself. She couldn’t be in better hands than her doctor’s. So may I have this dance?”
He held out his hand. “You can whisper customer names in my ear.”
She laughed. “Why not?”
He swung her into his arms and onto the dance floor in time for a slow dance. It wasn’t the most orthodox place to discuss the panty thief. They bumped into many couples on the crowded floor, Pearl and Eldin included. The living-in-sin duo were slow dancing together, too slow in deference to Eldin’s bad back. Watching them, happy at their age, should have given Charlotte hope for her own future, but increased her longing for Roman instead.
“Customers, Charlotte,” Rick whispered, bringing them cheek to cheek.
“You’re one smart cop.” She laughed and whispered the needed information in his ear. He had his list of her customers at last.
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But the best part of the dance had to be the fact that dancing with Rick had done what Charlotte and her outfit could not. She finally had Roman’s attention. He was looking their way, a scowl on his handsome face.
If Roman strangled his brother, he’d burn in hell, but it might be worth the sacrifice just to get Rick’s hands off Charlotte’s bare back.
Roman clenched his fists at his sides, taking in her green leather pants and the handkerchief-style top that wrapped around her like a sarong and was tied in one knot in the back. One freaking knot that could open with the slightest breeze—or the nimblest fingers. Damn her for wearing an outfit that chic and suggestive anyway. This was a family event in town hall, not a New York City singles dance, for God’s sake.
“Yoo-hoo, Roman.” A feminine hand waved in front of his face. Terrie Whitehall. He’d forgotten he was deep in conversation about the rudeness of patrons to bank tellers. “What?” he asked, never taking his gaze from Charlotte and Rick. The traitor.