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Hemlock stared at Charlie at hearing the word everything, then barked out a laugh. Reaching into the bag, he pulled container after container out and setting all of it on the counter. “Holy cow, woman, did you think I was starving?”

“I couldn’t decide what you’d want, and I wanted to bring you dinner,” she said in a rush. The way he looked at the food containers made her long for him to look at her like that.You want to be looked at as a meal? Yes. She wanted him to look at her like the best meal he’d ever seen, wanted, tasted. All of it.

She watched Hemlock set the last container on the counter, then walked the few steps towards her. Before she knew what he was doing, Hemlock wrapped her in his arms for a hug. She felt his lips press against her forehead and closed her eyes. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Charlie hugged him back wanting to breathe him in.I should have continued sleeping in his bed. What had I been thinking when I moved to the spare room?

The sound of someone clearing their throat had Charlie dropping her arms and stepping out of Hemlock’s embrace. Smoothing her hand down her hair, she moved around him to take down paper plates from the cabinet.

“We’re about to roll, brother,” Truck said to Hemlock while watching Charlie intently as she moved around the kitchen.

“No. Stay. Charlie came baring food.” Hemlock spread his hands out showing Truck all the food.

Charlie leaned around Hemlock adding her own comment, “Please stay. We can’t eat everything I brought.”

“See. She wants you guys to stay for dinner.” Hemlock handed some of the containers to Truck. When he took them to the dinner table, Hemlock followed him out with more. “Charlie, can you grab the rest?”

“Sure thing.” She tucked her soda under arm, scooped up the plates, silverware, and the last two containers and headed to the table. When she set everything down, Hemlock made the introductions before they dug into the meal.

Two hours later everyone laid around the living room stuffed. Hemlock clicked through the channels stopping on the news. There on the TV screen was the chapter’s clubhouse. Everyone sat up as he turned up the volume. The reporter talked about how the area was about to get a facelift from Wellington Corporation. “Who and what is Wellington?” Hemlock asked.

“Crispen’s father’s company.” Sighing Charlie stood shaking her head and gathering empty bottles and glasses. “I doubt Mr. Allen is buying up the area.”

“Why not?” Vicious asked, watching Charlie clean up. He was curious about what she might know.

Cleaning up the table, Charlie looked over at the small group staring at her. “Wellington is a commodity brokerage firm. They buy and sell raw material or primary agricultural products such as copper, coffee, grain, things like that. Buying buildings doesn’t qualify as a commodity.”

Charlie didn’t want to state the obvious. But seeing the concern on their faces she added her suspicions. “I would bet the few dollars in my purse, Crispen is behind that report.”

She saw the look on Hemlock’s face and shook her head. Charlie knew what he wanted to ask but didn’t so she answered it for him. “Yes, I wouldn’t doubt he knows I’m living here and who you are.” She wouldn’t be surprised if by end of the week Hemlock asked her to move out. She wouldn’t blame him. He hadn’t signed up for the headache Crispen could cause.

As she finished cleaning up the kitchen, Charlie heard everyone say goodnight. Walking to the door, she waved as they all left. While Hemlock was outside talking to his friends, Charlie headed upstairs. Tomorrow she’d start looking for a new place to live. It was better to be prepared than to get caught off guard.

Ten minutes later she heard a soft knock at her door. “Come in.”

Hemlock stuck his head in making sure she was decent before fully entering the bedroom. “Truck invited us over to swim and to bar-b-q this weekend. What’s your schedule?”

Grabbing her phone, she pulled up her calendar. “I’m off from all three places on Saturday. Huh, I can’t believe I’m off on a Saturday.”

“Are you good with going over while I’m at work?”

“I guess so.”

“Cool. I work until three. I’ll come straight there when I get off.” Hemlock said goodnight closing the door behind him. When he heard the click, signally the door was shut, he leaned his head against it and wished she’d invited him to stay. I should’ve asked her.

Charlie sat on the bed with her fingers brushing the fabric of the bedspread as the door shut. Climbing off the bed, she padded across the wooden floor. She stood still for a moment before taking the last step towards it. She was about to open the door and ask if she could stay with him tonight. Instead, she leaned her forehead against the door.If he wanted me, he would say so.Turning away from the door, she went back to the bed.

She sat down closing her eyes, sighing deeply. She knew it was for the best. Less expectations that way, but she couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if she’d have opened the door. Would he have still been standing there? Frustrated by her own thoughts, Charlie tossed back the covers and crawled under them. Pulling the blanket up, she tucked it under her chin and tried to think about something other than the handsome man down the hall.

The night felt endless, a quiet endless void where Charlie’s thoughts swirled. As she lay there, her heart pounded softly in her chest, a constant reminder of the ache that lingered just beneath the surface. She had stood at the door, so close to making a choice—close to crossing a line she had been tiptoeing around for so long—but something had held her back.

If he wanted her there, he would have come. He would have asked.

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to breathe deeply, to push the thought of Hemlock out of her mind, but it was impossible. She had always been good at hiding her feelings, at keeping things close to her chest, but now, alone in the quiet of her room, the walls seemed to close in on her.

What if he had wanted her to come to him?

A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips, and she rolled over onto her side, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. The warmth of the fabric felt distant, no comfort against the cold knot tightening in her stomach.

She sighed again, frustrated with herself.Stop overthinking it.