I Can See for Miles (9 page)

“Then answer me this,” Josh said, grasping Charlie’s hand where it lay against his skin. “What do
you
see?”

Swallowing against the lump of emotion in his throat and trying desperately not to stare at Josh’s full lips, Charlie took a deep breath. “I see someone who doesn’t give up without a fight, who’s strong, kind, and charming. Someone who already has my mother picking out her hat for the wedding,” he said, smiling when Josh’s lips twitched. “Someone who I may have misjudged because of my own lame issues. Someone who I could—”

“Could what?” Josh asked softly, leaning toward Charlie until he could feel the puff of Josh’s exhalations on his cheek.

“Someone I could—”

“Charlie!”

“Josh!” The shouts echoed around them, cutting Charlie off before he could finish his sentence and causing Josh to jump to his feet. Charlie stood up, his fingers still entwined with Josh’s when Maggie and Mike rounded the bend in the trail.

“We’re over here, guys,” Charlie yelled, lifting a hand in hello. “Josh had a bit of an anxiety attack, that’s all.” He gripped the fingers holding his, hoping Josh didn’t mind him divulging this bit of information to the others. He suddenly realized Josh might see it as a weakness, but the answering squeeze from Josh had him letting go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Are you okay, Josh?” Maggie asked. Charlie didn’t miss the pointed look she gave their linked hands before indicating with a series of gestures that she would be talking to him later. “Do you want to go back to the main house and have something hot and sweet to drink?”

“No,” Josh said firmly. “If Charlie doesn’t mind, I’d like to give the lake another try.”

“Are you sure?” Charlie asked, concern creasing his brow.

“If you’ll stay with me,” Josh murmured, his voice hesitant.

Charlie felt something warm but scary at the same time unfurl in his belly, and it was as though he was suddenly standing at a forked road. In one direction everything was safe… absolutely no chance of a broken heart. In the other was Josh and a whole host of “what ifs,” but also the excitement of the unknown and the possibility of more. Taking a deep breath, Charlie lifted Josh’s hand and kept his voice as steady as he could.

“I’m right here, man.”

Chapter Eight

C
HARLIE
smiled at the sight of Josh playing with Rosie on the little sandy inlet they had created at the edge of the lake. Rosie was grinning like a Cheshire cat while Josh lifted handfuls of sand and let it flow through his fingers onto hers. Charlie watched her trying to catch the grains of sand and then tell her mother quite firmly she didn’t need her help, because Josh was going to help her build a sandcastle. His heart felt as though it flipped in his chest when he heard the soft timbre of Josh’s voice as he bent his head and chided her gently.

“Rosie, I think we’re both going to need Momma’s help, don’t you?” Josh’s hair fell across his forehead as he tilted his head, causing Charlie’s fingers to itch to brush it out of his eyes. “I think our sandcastles aren’t going to stay up long if we don’t have a site manager. So maybe you better give Momma a big kiss and thank her for her help before she deserts us and our sandcastle-making days are over.” He nudged her with the side of his head. “We’ve gotta beat Mario and Greg. I’ve heard him gloating behind us ’cause he thinks his sandcastles are the best. We’re not gonna let him get away with that, are we?”

“No.” Rosie said, shaking her head vehemently, then reaching out her hand for her mother. “I’m sorry, Momma. Would you help us build the best sandcastle? I know ours can be better than Mario’s.”

Charlie couldn’t stop himself from bending and stroking a hand through Josh’s hair on his way to the end of the dock with Davey. “Nicely done, Donald,” he murmured, pressing his mouth close to Josh’s ear.

“I already told you,” Josh said as he smiled up at him. “Not just a pretty face. Is that the eagle king with you?”

“How did you know it was me?” Davey asked, awe in his voice, his hand gripping a little tighter to Charlie’s.

Josh tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. “The nose knows, Davey, my boy. You smell like the three cinnamon donuts you had at breakfast.”

“You are so cool, Josh,” Davey chuckled. “We’re going out on the lake in the boat. Do you want to come?”

Charlie saw Josh’s shoulders tense, not that any of that tension was revealed in his voice when he made his excuses to Davey. “Besides,” Charlie added, “Josh and Rosie are going to build a sandcastle so big, Mario will be eating humble pie for the rest of the week. You, me, Adam, Sophia, and Mike are going to have a row around the lake to see if we can hear the eagles again. If we’re lucky, Thor might be on a hunting trip. He likes the fish in the lake for dinner.” He caught Josh’s grateful look and tugged on Davey’s hand. “Come on, dude. We’ll make some sandcastles of our own when we get back.”

“Y
OU
seriously think you can build a better sandcastle than mine?” Mario said, sidling up behind Josh and resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder.

“Damn straight,” Josh replied, catching Rosie’s giggle and then chuckling sheepishly. “Sorry, my little flower. I guess I owe a nickel to the swear jar, huh?”

“You and Charlie looked pretty cozy when you came down,” Mario said conversationally.

“That’s what I love about you, Tavella. Your subtlety is breathtaking.” Josh smiled, not fooled for a minute as he shook his head derisively and felt beside him for the spade.

“Shut your jibber-jabber and answer the question, Donald,” was the eloquent response. “I saw how flushed you were. What happened?”

Sighing, Josh hooked his fingers over the top of the plastic bucket Rosie had furnished him with and began to shovel sand into it. “I had a panic attack, and he talked to me, calmed me down.”

“You had a panic attack?” Mario’s voice was strained. “You haven’t had one of those for a few months, Josh. What brought it on?”

“The water.” Josh could hear the concern heavy in Mario’s tone, and he shrugged, not wanting to make too big a deal out of it. “I thought I’d be okay, you know. It’s not like I was going out on the lake. But the closer we got, I could hear the kids splashing about, and I just, you know, panicked.”

“And he calmed you down?” Mario said, his tone filled with surprise. “How?”

“He must have realized what was going on, and he just started talking.” Josh hung his head, his cheeks flushed with warmth. He knew Mario was probably already mentally doing the dance of joy with Greg. “I told him some things about myself. He told me some things about himself. You know, we just talked.”

“What things?”

“None of your business, Tavella,” Josh said dismissively, nudging him with his shoulder, then emptying another shovel full of damp sand into his bucket and smiling when he felt the grains against his fingertips. “Are you trying to distract me so me and Rosie don’t whip your behind in the sandcastle competition? Rosie, I think this bad boy’s ready to go. Give me a countdown.”

H
ALF
an hour later, Josh and Rosie were burying Mario in the sand under Greg’s supervision when he heard Charlie and Davey’s voices drift toward him on the wind. “Okay, Wavey Davey, we’re on dry land again. I think your sea legs are a little wobbly, don’t you?” Charlie’s voice was heavy on the sympathy. “I think the moral of this story is not to eat
three
cinnamon donuts for breakfast, don’t you, dude?”

“Maybe I’ll just have pancakes tomorrow,” Davey replied gravely.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Charlie grinned, then leaned down and said to Davey in a loud stage whisper, “You should have seen Mike the first time I took him out on the lake. He spent most of the time with his head over the side and whined like a girl for the rest of the week!”

“I hope I’m okay for the barbecue,” Davey said wistfully, “I don’t want to miss Sharon’s peach cobbler.” Josh couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the despair in Davey’s voice. But then, he had to admit Sharon’s peach cobbler was something else.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Charlie replied reassuringly as their footsteps stopped beside Josh. “I can’t be sure, but I think Josh and Rosie won the sandcastle competition, because they’re burying Mario in the sand.”

Josh had no idea why he had told Charlie about Alec. When he’d been unable to catch his breath, Alec had been the farthest thing from his mind. Then Charlie had begun to speak, trusting him with personal details, and it felt natural to tell him about Alec. Josh let out an oomph when Rosie, and he assumed Davey, jumped on his back and wrestled him onto the sand. Whatever the reason, he felt lighter, freer than he had in a long time, and he knew he had Charlie to thank for that. As if sharing with Charlie had lifted some of the weight that had been pressing down on him for so long. The sound of Charlie’s deep, rich laughter had the grin widening on his face as he wrapped his arms around the two children. Unable to resist, Josh shouted out to Rosie’s mom. “Kristal? Is Charlie checking me out?”

“Oh yeah,” Kristal giggled.

“Thought so,” Josh said smugly and growled at the kids, making them squeal hysterically as they landed in a heap on top of the Mario-shaped lump in the sand.

“Okay, everyone,” Charlie said loudly, ignoring Josh completely, much to his amusement. “We’ve got an hour before the barbecue is fired up and we try and talk Jason into getting his guitar out, so that gives you all time to go and get dried off and changed. So let’s get packed up.”

“J
OSH
?”
Mario lounged on the sofa in their cabin, having changed into his comfortable jeans and a plaid shirt, under Josh’s instruction. Greg was in the shower, and Josh was sitting on the chair, pulling on his boots.

“Yeah?”

“Me and Greg were talking, and we were thinking that tomorrow night we might go into town and catch a movie, maybe have some dinner. Would that be okay with you? If you don’t want to be here alone, we’ll stay, it’s not a problem,” Mario hurried to assure him.

“Don’t be stupid,” Josh drawled, pulling up the zipper and then rolling the leg of his jeans down over the top of his boot. “I’m more than capable of spending a few hours in my own company. You’re the only one who seems to think I need a nursemaid.”

“So…,” Mario began, “what were these things you and Charlie talked about?”

“Jeez, leave it alone, Tavella. I don’t ask you what you and Greg discuss in the wee small hours, do I? Even though these walls aren’t exactly soundproof.” Josh said with a smirk, giving an exaggerated shudder. “Kinda makes a guy wish he were blind
and
deaf.”

“Uh-uh,” Mario countered, shaking his head. “Don’t change the subject. I’ve let you get away with that once today, but not again.”

“Mario,” Greg said in a warning tone. “If Josh—”

Josh cut off Greg’s words with an exasperated sigh. “All right, all right, I’m wise to your whole good cop, bad cop routine. Look”—his gaze softened as he remembered what Charlie had told him in the woods—“let’s just say I’m not the only one who has experience with shitty boyfriends. He told me about his ex, and I told him about mine.”

“You told him about Alec?” Greg’s tone was incredulous.

“It just came out.” Josh shrugged. “He told me all about Brian, and I guess I just wanted to let him know that he’s not the only one who’s been hurt. That I’m not like Brian, and he’s not like Alec.”

“And?” Greg prompted.

Josh stood up, smoothed down his shirt, and then ran the habitual hand through his shaggy hair. “I don’t have any answers, except I think we’ve cleared the air and we’re both willing to just see where this goes. If it goes anywhere at all, that is. So we don’t need any outside help.” He raised an eyebrow in Mario’s direction. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Okay, Josh,” Greg said softly. “We won’t interfere.”

“But that don’t mean I’m not watching,” Mario said gruffly.

Chuckling as they walked out of the cabin and closed the door behind them, Josh grasped Greg’s elbow. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Tavella. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

C
HARLIE
cursed loudly as his cell rang, startling him with his head halfway through the neck of his T-shirt. Quickly pulling the shirt so it hung around his shoulders, Charlie jogged across the bedroom to grab the cell off the bed and pressed the accept button. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Charlie, it’s Frank Morgan.”

“Dr. Morgan. What can I do for you?” Charlie asked, a small frown creasing his brow. He wasn’t expecting to speak to his doctor until Wednesday at his appointment.

“I’ve got a cancellation tomorrow, and I was hoping you could come in.” Morgan’s voice was firm and brisk, giving Charlie the impression the man was not going to take no for an answer.

“Tomorrow isn’t really—”

“Shall we say eleven? I want to run some tests while you’re here.”

Charlie swallowed nervously. He’d been preparing himself for the appointment, already knowing the news he was going to receive wasn’t good, but he thought he had another three days to psych himself up for it. “Okay.” Charlie hated the pathetic edge to his voice and cleared his throat before continuing. “I’ll see you at eleven.” He flipped his cell shut and dropped it back onto the bed and then sank down beside it.
Tomorrow? Fuck.

“Charlie! You ready, man?”

Closing his eyes at the sound of Tom’s voice, Charlie sighed heavily. Was he ready? Hell no, but what choice did he have? Quickly finishing getting dressed, Charlie ran some gel through his hair and then pushed his glasses firmly onto his nose. Forcing what he hoped was a natural-looking smile to his lips, he shook his head at his reflection and turned on his heel. When he reached his bedroom door, he gripped the doorknob and squared his shoulders. What could he do tonight that would make any difference to the outcome of his appointment tomorrow? Nothing. Nothing except make sure everyone had a fantastic time. Then he’d worry about everything else in the morning. Opening the door, he stepped out into the hall and closed it behind him before taking a deep breath and heading for the stairs.