Emily Franklin - Principles Of Love 06 - Labor Of Love Read Online Free PDF

so, but it's not." An impressive twelve words in a row. Sip. "He's my brother, yes, I'm that Parker

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    Addison--and God love him, but he has a way of acting as though anything he touches--anything with which he graces his presence--is his."

    "That's kind of harsh." It's not just that I need to de fend Charlie--if I'm truthful, that characteristic, how com fortable Charlie is no matter where he is, is something that draws me to him. I never considered it possessiveness before, more confidence, but maybe Parker's known him longer and has a different perspective. Does that hold true for me? Am I one of Charlie's things?

    "Harsh but true."

    I chug the rest of my beer, suddenly wanting to be done with it and the conversation. Parker may have an impressive rep at Hadley, but he's not exactly winning me over with his brotherly love."I should go."

    "Yeah?"

    And we're back to one-word answers. "Into town, I guess."

    "I thought you were looking for Charles."

    "Charles. That always sounds so weird, so formal. Not at all boaty in the rough-and-tumble fisherman way, only boaty in the `I have a one-hundred-foot yacht and wear double-breasted blazers' kind of way." The beer hits my body with a rush, causing words to rush out even more than normal. I stand up and feel myself sway just a little.

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    "Call me a lightweight, but I think two beers are all it takes. . . ."

    "Lightweight."

    "Huh?" I look at him.

    "You asked me to call you that--just following orders." He stands up, too, seemingly immune to the alcohol con sumption, and motions to the front door. "Anyway, Charles Addison is not here, as I stated prior. He is in the area, however--at the big house."

    "He's in jail?"

    "Not that big house--though I wouldn't put it past him." Parker walks to the door and I follow. Out the door, down the steps, I wobble while Parker leads me back toward the beach, up a little path, and into thick bushes spotted with blackberries and bramble.

    "Ooops." The thorns cut my thighs and I see thin streaks of blood rise to the surface of my skin, but it doesn't exactly hurt. Thanks, beer. "Anyway, I'm glad to hear Charlie's not in jail . . . the big house." My voice trails off.

    "Nope--not that big house." He points to the clearing in front of us."That big house."

    I'm agog since the sheer size of the structure is tremen dous. We keep walking, emerging from the brush onto the top of a sand dune, my back swaying with breeze and beer. "That's just massive."

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    "Yep." Parker points to me and then to the house, and I nod.Without further ado, he nudges me down the dune-- alone--which is how I wind up running (what else can you do down a steep hill?), and arriving breathless, bloodied, and a bit drunk at the regal entrance to "the big house" where Charlie is just exiting. Contrary to any of my prior images, he is not in a blue T-shirt (in fact, Parker must have actu ally borrowed it because I recognized the frayed hem) but dressed in a light blue button-down shirt, khakis that at least upon first viewing appear to have been pressed, and--the kicker--loafers. Basically, he looks like the anti-Charlie.

    "Charles!" I say as I halt from my running pace. I've never called him that before, but what else can you say to someone who looks like they've been competing in the World Preppy Competition--and placed. Or won.

    "Love!" He takes in my disheveled appearance and then looks over his shoulder at the front door where two people-- I'm guessing Mr. and Mrs. Preppy--I mean Addison--are staring at us.

    "Hi."

    "Hi."

    "Great, now we're all reduced to one-word sentences," I mutter.

    "What?" Charlie wrinkles his forehead for a second, then clicks into something and looks up to the dune from which

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    I sprinted only moments before. Parker gives an exaggerated wave."I see you met my brother."

    I nod and wait for the next part of my vision--the mouth to mouth meeting that assures that feelings