I cannot say no to spending time with you
Luther’s POV
The inside of my black Dodge Charger felt heavy with tension, as if the air between us had thickened. Charlotte sat stiffly by my side, her body tense, sneaking glances at me when she thought I was not looking. Each time our eyes almost met, she quickly shifted her gaze away, pretending to be focused elsewhere.
Her dress had ridden up slightly, exposing the soft, tempting curve of her thighs. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, forcing my attention back to the road, trying to push away the memory of how smooth her skin had felt under my hand.
Trying to break the silence, I cleared my throat.
"He is a good man," I started, choosing my words carefully. "And your mother... she is good for him. Even though I only met her today, it is obvious she makes him happy."
Charlotte let out a heavy sigh, turning her face towards the window as if she could escape the conversation.
"Oh, of course," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Nothing says true love like falling for the man you hired to solve your husband’s murder."
I shook my head slightly. "There is no need to be bitter. Your mother deserves to be happy, Charlotte. She deserves to be loved properly."
Her glare was sharp enough to cut through the air between us. I knew I was poking a sore spot, but I was not about to back down.
"You know nothing," she snapped. "So just shut up."
"You are being selfish," I said bluntly. "You would rather see her lonely and sad than moving on with someone who actually cares about her."
Her body tensed as she whipped around to face me, her anger flashing clear as day.
"Shut the fuck up," she gritted out.
I smirked a little. I had hit a nerve.
"Stanley deserves happiness too," I said. "And right now, your mother gives him that. I will not let anyone ruin it."
Stanley had been more than a brother to me; he had been everything. After our parents died, he sacrificed his youth to raise me, working two jobs just to keep me fed and clothed. I owed him more than loyalty. I owed him my life.
"Are you threatening me now?" Charlotte’s voice was sharp, dragging me from my thoughts.
I ignored her question. "Why are you so against your own mother being happy?"
"I want what is best for her!" she snapped. "And marrying your brother after knowing him for just two weeks is not it."
"You are overreacting," I said calmly, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing, Nightfall by OTR. The soft, emotional lyrics filled the car, whispering of closeness, and I silently cursed the timing.
I stole a glance at Charlotte. Her crossed arms pushed her breasts higher under the thin fabric of her dress, her nipples barely hidden. My mind betrayed me with wicked images I should not have been thinking about.
She leaned closer, her voice rising. "They barely know each other! It is like she is forgetting my father even existed."
She went on, her words a flood of anger and sadness. But honestly, I barely heard her. All I could focus on were her soft, kissable lips moving, and the thought of shutting her up in the filthiest way possible.
"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, waving her hand in front of my face.
"Of course," I lied smoothly.
"Then tell me one thing I said," she demanded, crossing her arms again.
My eyes dropped immediately to her chest, the sight of her pressed breasts making my mouth go dry. She might have been angry, but all she was doing was making it harder for me to keep my hands to myself.
"Uh..." I scratched the back of my head with one hand, keeping the other steady on the steering wheel.
"Right," Charlotte muttered, leaning back in her seat. I prayed she would not notice the growing bulge between my legs. God help me. She was so young, yet my body was betraying me without mercy.
"You do not care about Stanley. If you did, you would see he is making a mistake," she said quietly, her voice sharp in a way I could not quite figure out.
"They are both grown-ups, Charlotte. It is their life. They get to make their own choices," I said, steering the car up her street. A small part of me sank, knowing we were close to her house. I was not ready for her to leave yet. Even when we argued, I liked having her around.
"But…" she started, but I cut her off.
"You are not upset because things are moving too fast between my brother and your mother." I stopped outside her house, parking neatly in front of the garage. Turning to face her properly, I finally spoke the truth. "You are scared your mom is forgetting your dad. You think she is leaving him behind."
She reached for the door handle, but I had already locked the doors. I shifted in my seat to face her, biting down a groan as my slacks pressed tight against my growing need. Looking at her fragile, beautiful face only made it worse. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, and it terrified me how much I wanted to.
"You do not want another man taking your father’s place," I said gently. "Since he passed away, your mom has been your whole world. You are scared she is moving on without you. Is that it?"
The car's lights threw a soft glow on her face. I watched her lips tremble before she whispered, "I am scared of losing her."
My chest tightened. I understood more than she knew. But she had to realise her mother was allowed to live again.
"You need to tell her, Charlotte," I said softly. "Talk to her. No fighting, no shouting. Just... talk. She needs to hear what you feel."
Without thinking, I reached out and took her hands. They were warm but shaking. Her sadness stirred something deep in me, something protective and fierce.
She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, her gaze darting around.
"Will you..." she started, but then shook her head. "Never mind."
"No," I said, holding her gaze. "I mind. I know we just met, but I want you to be okay. I mean it."
She gave a small nod, wiping her eyes quickly. Then she whispered, her voice cracking, "I... I have not slept alone since... since my dad..."
She did not need to finish. I knew. I could see it in her face, the fear, the loneliness.
"Sshh, Charlotte," I said quietly. "I will stay with you until your mom comes home."
The way her face lit up almost made my heart stop. I had not expected that small promise to mean so much to her. But it did.
"But... do you not have things to do?" she asked shyly, stealing quick glances at me.
I chuckled under my breath. "I cannot say no to spending time with you," I admitted, my voice low.
The air thickened between us again. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. I knew exactly what was running through her mind, because the same wicked thoughts haunted mine.
I only hoped I had the strength to remember what I was supposed to be, her protector. Not something else. Or had that line already started to blur?
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