The Cherished Wife

Chapter 75

With a mutual understanding in place, Noelle headed off to bed, her mind at ease. Charles, left alone, watched her leave and felt his carefully controlled emotions begin to bubble up again. He was not Mr. Perfect, but he had bent over backward for Noelle time and again.

His phone suddenly rang, displaying Peter’s number. Charles was caught off–guard. “What’s going on?” Peter, hearing Charles’s voice, could not resist a smirk. “Just a friendly call to pass the long night.”

Peter’s voice, edged with a challenge, buzzed through the phone, and Charles squinted his eyes, a hint of suspicion flickering through them. “Did Sean spill the beans?” That had to be it. Peter was not the type to ring up in the dead of night without a good reason.

Peter’s tone dropped. “I didn’t picture you tying the knot with her. Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Charles replied, rising from his chair. His long fingers swept across the desk, tapping it assuredly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so,” Peter conceded. He was not one to poke his nose into others‘ business. “So, when do we get to meet her?” He was genuinely intrigued by the woman who had gotten Charles to pop the question. He was not a gossip hound like Sean, but he was definitely keen on meeting this lady. It’s been ages since we caught up with Steven Fischer too!”

got the hint. Peter was less interested in meeting

“Let’s play it by ear.” It was obvious Noelle was not ready for the big reveal. When the time’s right, I’ll introduce her to the

what Sean said? Are you tossing and turning all alone tonight?” He

at each other. Since they were both sharp as tacks, they often found themselves in a friendly rivalry. Peter, the master of snark, always played by

words, Charles simply said,

you’re going to lose to me one of these days. Anyway, it’s

Charles squinted into the night, surprised at how fast Sean’s gossip had traveled. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone, lit a cigarette, and

was nearly eight. She

had fallen asleep almost instantly. Maybe it was the relief of solving her problems, or maybe Charles’s bed was magic. As she drifted off, she had caught the faintest whiff of lime and a hint of orange, cool and

of something delicious. At the bottom, she spotted an apron–clad Charles emerging from