𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏.
LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER.
Charlie, also known as the jet-setter and billionaire Tony Stark's only daughter, is 26 and in a relationship with Steve, soon-to-be successor...
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕. That was to say no physical touch, not even an inappropriate word to one another.
That was pretty easy as James and Charlie had barely spoke to each other.
After the realization that something was odd and even despite her own deepest desires, Charlie kept her distance with the sergeant.
It was very difficult not linger on that fine suit and those broad shoulders, among other parts of his body. But she was a Stark, so there was little she couldn't do.
Like every time James drove back Charlie home, he first checked inside and that Friday evening was no exception to the rule. She usually stayed at the front door until he came back, all clear. But this time, James had a worried look, as if he had a strange feeling before entering the house.
"Stay here," he warned her, keeping his voice low as he slowly opened the door and slid inside.
She exceptionally did as he said.
"SURPRISE!" she heard a woman exclaimed after a moment that felt like a lifetime. "Wow, you're definitely not Charlie. Or you've worked yourself to death at the gym, girl, which I doubt."
Charlie brushed past James and rushed toward the voice she could recognize among a thousand. "Nat! I thought you wouldn't be back until Thanksgiving," she hugged her best friend tight.
"Well, I guess plans changed," Nat wrapped her arms around Charlie as she rested her chin on her friend's shoulder, a big smiled across her face. "Who's that fine man over there?"
Charlie broke their embrace and Nat lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "The brightest idea of my father," technically Charlie didn't lie, even though her tone was ironical, she was just omitting a large part of what really happened.
James gestured Charlie to follow him.
"Who else has the key to your house?" he said once they were out of sight and hearing.
"I don't know," she said in the most innocently way possible. But James didn't buy it.
"Charlie," he warned through gritted teeth, pinning her to the wall and shielding her with his muscled body. "Who. Else. Has. The. Fucking. Key?"
"Other than me? Steve and Natalia," she said, her voice way more weaker than she intended. The heat that emanated from him overwhelmed her, making her knees weaken.
"No one else?"
She shook her head.
"Now you're being smart."
"If you'll excuse me," her heart nearly coming out of her chest, Charlie finally shoved one of his arms away and left.
For the upcoming two hours, Charlie caught up with her best friend's trip in Europe - how beautiful the cities were and how delicious the food was, but not only the food, apparently - before Nat suggested to go clubbing.
