She was a truly terrible person.

Charlie hadn’t expected to feel the same way about Luke after Sam had died. She’d expected to remain as heartbroken as possible, but as with every time they were together, he seemed to pull her out of that grief. Unless they were actively talking about Sam, it was like he hadn’t died at all. Like he was still here. So when the surviving brother looked over her and moved toward her, she felt her heart skip a beat.

Despicable person.

“Sorry for wanting you to get your shit done?” She met his eyes, holding contact until he did. “You still stink.” When he finally left, Charlie felt like she could breathe again. So, with that, she began to clean a little bit in the kitchen, wiping down the countertop for the first time in six weeks. Her mom had told her that she could hire a maid and have her sent out, but Charlie had refuted the offer. She didn’t want anyone in her house that didn’t belong, reminding her of all the things that she’d neglected since Sam had died.

It wasn’t a deep clean by any means, but at least the sink was devoid of stains and there wasn’t a film on the unused appliances. She wiped her forehead and put her hands on her hips, looking over her work with some semblance of approval. She could do this. Charlie’s head turned as Luke traipsed down the stairs, ignoring the way she wanted to approach him immediately. 

[I]I like it when you wear my things.[/I]. What the fuck? Her mouth went dry as he collected his belongings, trying not to gawk. [I]It makes me—[/I] Tried not to think of the way he’d grabbed at the shirt not but a few minutes earlier. 

[I]”Massively down bad.”

“Huh?” Charlie’s brows scrunched in confusion at Milly’s words, watching the blonde sip her coffee. It wasn’t often that she visited, but when she did, Charlie tried to make the most of it. Sam had all but shooed her from the house when they’d mentioned going to Bozeman for the weekend. 

“You.”

“Okay, should I not be? I’m married to him.”

“That’s not who you just got a text from, so let’s stop pretending.” Milly’s hands clasped under her chin, continuing to survey Charlie. “You have to stop.”

“We aren’t doing anything,” the brunette replied, taking a drink as if that would stop this line of conversation. “We’ve never done anything.”

Milly rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean you haven’t wanted to. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“He’s my brother-in-law, and he literally gets shot at every time he leaves Montana. Forgive me for caring, even though I thought it was only natural.”

“Ain’t nothing natural about how y’all act, and you know it.” Milly’s accent was a bit thicker than Charlie’s, having grown up about two hours away from Nashville. “Sam’s a fucking saint, ‘cause if I had a woman looking at my man like that, I’d fucking kill her.”[/I]

“I didn’t think you were being an asshole,” Charlie said with a shrug before a quick smile flashed across her face. “This time, anyway.” Her head tilted slightly as she moved back towards the front door, locking it when they were outside. She hadn’t chosen the shirts completely on purpose, but she was too embarrassed that most of her other shirts littered the floor of the laundry room and desperately needed to be washed. She started towards his truck. “If it bothers you, I won’t do it anymore. It just never had, so I didn’t think about it.”