Charlie squeezed her eyes tighter as sunlight slanted orange across her closed eyelids. She rubbed a hand over her face, neck aching at the bad angle she had her head on, and the lumpy pillow beneath the side of her face.
Except then she realized it wasn't a pillow, but a shoulder, warm and solid against her cheek. She cracked her eyes open against the glaring sun as too many sensations rushed at her. Her eyes focused on her hand, which was resting in the middle of Bass' chest. His free arm was wrapped around her back, his palm resting on her hip, and one of her legs was hooked over his left thigh.
So apparently she hadn't gotten up and gone across the hall to find her own bed, and at some point snuggled up to Bass like no one's business. It should have freaked her out, she should have been scrambling to get out of his arms and off the bed, but instead, her eyes drooped closed again, and she could have easily drifted back to sleep for another few hours. Waking up in a warm embrace was gratifying in a way she'd never experienced before. Could get used to this…
Bass shifted against her, his hand tightening on her hip, and that was enough to shoot her up with a good dose of reality. Oh god, was she really lying there, cuddling with Sebastian Monroe? She rolled away from him and sat up on the edge of the bed, heart pounding erratically. She pushed her hair out of her face and glanced over her shoulder at him. He mumbled something in his sleep, but otherwise didn't stir. Breathing a low sigh of relief at avoiding an awkward confrontation, she pushed to her feet and left the room, making her way downstairs. Miles was sleeping on the couch in the front room, and through the widows, she caught a glimpse of her mom standing out on the porch.
Covering a yawn with her hand, Charlie walked out through the kitchen, to the back porch and across the yard. Up against the side of the dilapidated barn were two barrels of rain water, one full and the other half empty. She took a moment to splash some water on her face and wash away the last foggy tendrils of sleep.
"Hey, kiddo, how'd you sleep?"
She wiped her forearm over the water dripping down her face as she turned to Miles. Heat bloomed in her chest and spread upward.
"Fine." Obviously he didn't know where she'd slept, otherwise this conversation probably would have ended with him shoving his fist in Bass' face, unconscious or not. "Did you get much sleep?"
He shrugged one shoulder and brushed by her to lean over the barrel. "A little."
He sluiced some water through his hair and over his face, before using his shirt to wipe off. "Listen, you think you can hold down the fort for a few hours? We'll probably have to stay here at least another forty eight hours if we want to make sure Bass is okay, so we'll need some supplies. Obviously your mom and I need to talk a few things out, so—"
"Of course, Uncle Miles." She snapped her mouth shut after the words came out automatically, feeling kind of dumb for saying them.
Miles shot her one of his half-smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, you're not the one who needs to apologize, here." Miles shook his head, staring off into the distance. "I know this changes things, and I'm sure there's things you expect of me, Charlie, but I'm gonna need a minute—"
She reached out to close her hand around his forearm. "I don't expect anything from you, Miles. Truthfully, I'm pretty confused about what this means for us myself. So I get that you need time to wrap your head around it."
He nodded, his expression relaxing a little. "Glad we're on the same page… kind of."
They started back towards the house, and Charlie shoved her hands into her pockets as she walked.
"You know, it does help me make sense of some things. My dad and I— Ben, we never saw eye to eye. It was like he just didn't get me at all. We used to fight all the time, couldn't agree on anything. But you and I?" She paused and shook her head. "Well, we're just like two peas in a pod, right?"
Miles sent her a sideways glance. "Yeah, stubborn as all hell, and a pain in the ass when we don't get our way."
She laughed, though the sound was strained. Miles had become a father figure to her since she'd found him in Chicago, there was no denying that. She'd just never expected to find out he was literally her father. It was going to take some getting used to, and right now, things felt kind of awkward between them, as much as she hated that.
They walked into the kitchen and found Rachel standing at the table, securing the straps on her pack. She looked tired, dark smudges under her eyes. But as always, she sent them a smile, the let's-pretend-we're-all-good one that Charlie was getting sick of seeing.
"Are you ready to go, Miles?" Rachel asked, swinging her bag onto her back.
"Just let me grab my crap." Miles turned to Charlie and closed his hand around her shoulder for a quick moment. "We'll be back in a few hours, kid. You and Bass have had enough excitement for one week, so no more drama, okay?"
This time her grin was easy and genuine. "I can only try to keep us out of trouble, but I'm not promising anything."
Miles sent her a stern look, before brushing by Rachel and heading to the front room. She and her mom followed him, and then Charlie went out to the porch to wave them off as they walked away from the house.
Once they were out of sight, she went inside to find her own pack and scrounge up some food. A crust of dry bread was all she had left, and she ate it while she gave herself a tour of the house, checking all the nooks and corners. When she'd familiarized herself with the layout, she gathered up her crossbow and went back through the kitchen. Bass would need something substantial to eat when he woke up, and she needed something to keep herself occupied.
An hour later, she'd managed to shoot a duck, but there wasn't much else to hunt. Obviously the area had been hunted nearly clean by the locals and patriot soldiers camping closer to the town.
As she walked along the length of the barn, a low string of curses in a familiar voice snagged her attention, and she rounded the end of the building to find Bass leaning over the barrel of water. He hadn't put a shirt on, and held a razor in his good hand, head tilted as he looked into a small, square mirror hanging from a nail. He'd nicked his jaw, and a small rivulet of blood dripped down his neck.
"Should you really be on your feet?" She walked past him to hang the duck on a hook, set down her crossbow, and then stepped closer to the barrel to wash her hands.
"I woke up a while ago to an empty house. For a minute there, I wondered if you'd all gone off and left me for dead. And did you really think I'd stay in bed? I needed some fresh air, and I needed to shave. These whiskers itch like crazy. Obviously I don't need to disguise my face anymore, since everyone thinks I was executed."
"You thought a moustache and a few whiskers were a disguise?"
He sent her a sideways glare that said shut up loud and clear.
She bit her lip to stop herself from grinning. "I wouldn't have gone out hunting if I'd known you were going to wake up so soon. Miles and my mom have gone for supplies." No mention of their sleeping arrangement. Cool relief ran through her. Maybe he didn't have a clue they'd spent half the night pressed up against one another. It would certainly make it easier for her to pretend like it hadn't happened if he didn't know about it. "And I'm so glad I gave you half my blood so you could slice your own neck open."
He seemed to freeze, before turning to focus on her. "You gave me your blood, not Miles?"
His intent blue gaze made her stomach do a slow flip. "Like my mom said, Miles couldn't do it, so what else were we going to do?"
An unreadable expression crossed his face.
"Then I owe you my thanks, and my life. For a second time." His intense gaze searched her face, causing heat to trickle through her. "You really are making a habit of saving me, aren't you?"
His concentrated regard made that weird, hyper-aware feeling overtake her, just like it had in the factory. She shrugged to cover her discomfit. "Its no big deal, next week you'll probably screw me over, and then I'll be back to wanting to kill you."
He reached out to grab her arm, pulling her in a little closer. "I would never betray you, Charlie; you have my word on that."
Her heart skipped a rushed beat, his low vow echoing all the way to her soul. She swallowed, returning his silent stare for a moment. Words tumbled through her mind, about not trusting anything Sebastian Monroe said, and definitely not taking his word at face value. But something in the way he watched her made her believe he absolutely meant what he'd said.
She reached up to touch his jaw, where he'd cut himself. "You need to be a little more careful."
His expression turned rueful. "Apparently shaving left-handed is next to impossible, and my hold isn't exactly steady."
"You just don't know when to ask for help, do you?" She took the razor out of his hand.
"It's been a long time since I trusted anyone enough to know I could ask."
How had he lived like that for so long? Always having to watch his back, never knowing who might try to kill him. It didn't forgive anything he'd done, but for the first time, she saw Miles' betrayal of him in a different light.
She stepped closer to him, touching her fingers to his chin and urging him to tilt his head. She concentrated on carefully sliding the sharp razor over his skin, so she didn't cut him again. However, she knew he was staring at her the whole time, she felt the forceful regard rippling all the way to her toes.
By the time she'd finished, her own hands weren't so steady any longer. She blew out a quiet, uneven breath as she set the razor aside and picked up the threadbare towel hanging over the edge of the barrel. She turned back to Bass, though he hadn't moved a muscle. As she slowly wiped the towel over his face to take away the excess lather, his jaw clenched beneath her hand, making her pause.
"Charlie—" His low voice had a rumble to it she'd never heard before, but it set off a burst of butterflies in her stomach.
The crunch of footsteps snagged her attention and she dropped the towel as she turned away from Bass, getting her hands on her crossbow and swinging it around to aim in the direction of the noise, steadily getting closer to them.
