"That's all you can say?" She sat and grinned. "I ruined a good manicure for these walls."
He sat across from her and began to eat. The omelet tasted excellent. He took a minute to savor the blend of egg, cheese, and pepper before he answered. "I like this color. It suits the room and takes advantage of the natural light."
Christine sipped coffee. "You sound like one of those paid announcers for the Home Improvement channel in the before and after shots."
"The bright white you painted the ceilings match the window trims and blinds, blending subtly into the deep apple wood border and trim, which showcases the hard wood flooring I believe you've restored and sealed with, um, three coats of wax, is it?"
"Two, but the second coat had a natural buffer which covers the numerous character scratches and dings of a house which has seen more than its share of rowdy children and too many pets to count." She winked as she ate.
"It appears professional. Excellent job, sweetheart." He watched fascinated as always when the slight blush glowed in her cheeks. Christine was the only adult woman he knew who could blush so innocently while passion glowed in her eyes. "As for the crown molding in the living room," A sound from the room off the kitchen interrupted him.
"My daughter just sent me a message." Christine grinned. "I have the computer turned up louder than usual so I'd hear it."
"The Tardis from Doctor Who?" Charlie almost expected the time machine to materialize near the refrigerator.
"She loves the show, although I'm more a fan of the classic days, Tom Baker and company. Adam's tone is Fred Flintstone's quitting time 'Yabba Dabba Do.'"
"What's my tone?" He raised a brow at her.
Christine's blush grew deeper. "Oh, just a song."
Now she had him intrigued. "Which one?" She murmured something and stood. He caught her hand and tugged when she tried to move away. "What's my tone?"
Head bent, she focused on the gleaming floor. "Your tone is the song, You Sexy Thing."
He laughed and pulled her on his lap. "You believe in miracles?"
"Since you came along, I do." She blushed more if possible. "Hush."
He kissed her, delighted and amazed. She had the power to make him see the simple beauty of things. Something he'd lost a long time ago. "My sexy Christine, I'll need to set mine for yours to do the same thing, won't I?"
Christine shrugged, the movement slipping the robe off one shoulder. He nibbled her soft skin. "It's your messenger. You can set it to whatever you want. Oh!"
He'd pushed the robe aside and suckled right above her breast. "Oh, indeed, you sexy thing fits very well. Now let's see what happens when I do this."
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as Charlie took her breast into his mouth and used his tongue to trace her nipple into a hard pebble. "Mmmm, I love how you touch me."
"I love how you touch me too," he murmured between bites.
She took the invitation, her hands sliding down his chest to the knot of the robe he'd unpacked and thrown on before they ate. Her hands caressed his thighs, stopping at the raised scar; her gaze locked on his. Concern replaced passion. "From the car accident with your wife?"
He placed a hand over hers. "It's not something I speak about." He'd told her the bare minimum, but some parts—some he'd never told anyone.
"Both our marriages ended with car accidents, and though we weren't one hundred percent at fault, we still feel survivor's guilt." She turned her hand over to entwine their fingers.
He snorted. "I was at fault."
"Tell me?"
Charlie sighed. She needed to hear it, especially if somehow, they got a chance at a future together. "We had a fight over something stupid. She stormed out with the car keys and I jumped into the car with her, thinking I could calm her down."
"The car crashed."
He nodded. He'd told her some of this. "She lost control and struck a pole. I didn't wear a seat belt and slammed through the front window, my leg cut all to hell by the broken glass." Christine's fingers tightened on his, a comfort, an anchor to the present. "I remember sirens screaming, the smell of burning metal and rain, and blood, so much blood. I tried to get up, to help her, but I couldn't move."
"She blamed you?"
Charlie nodded. "The finale of our marriage. I've told you how we grew apart and were headed toward divorce before the accident." He swallowed. "We only stayed together because of her pregnancy. Monica pulled through. Our baby didn't."
Christine embraced him, soothing him in the way she had of speaking without words. "What's your child's name?"