“And what will you do when he goes off to take pictures halfway around the world?”
“I’ll encourage him to go. Just as he’ll encourage me to go off on my little dance tours.” She smiled, realizing what she’d just spoken the truth. He’d never ask her to stop dancing, just as she’d never ask him to stop taking pictures.
The man’s focus shifted but Anne held her glare fixed on him. Until she heard the husky voice that she adored and the pub door closing.
“Anne’s right,” Chris said. “We both respect each other and understand each other enough to appreciate the other one’s career. We would never ask the other one to change out of some selfish need for control.” The last few words seethed out of his mouth as he made his way toward the two of them. Anne closed the distance. “And just so you know, we both happen to love Canden Valley. And the people who live here, hicks that they are.”
“And each other,” Anne said softly as she gazed up at him.
He smiled down at her. “And each other.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet. A dancer and a photographer following their art. Sounds as if the two of you are made for each other.”
“As a matter of fact, it does. Thank you for pointing that out,” Anne said, wrapping her arms around Chris’s waist.
James Newell started toward the couple, but they ignored him. He couldn’t touch them now. Not in a million years. Especially not when her three friends stepped between the couple and the angry man who was determined to control his son’s life.
It was Skye’s voice she heard first. No surprise. “You can leave the pub now, Mr. Newell.”
He looked down at her. Skye stood up taller and scowled at him.
“You’re kicking me out of the pub?”
“Actually, now that you mention it, I am.”
“Who the hell are you?” James Newell asked the petite woman standing in front of him.
“I’m Skye McCullough, local bartender and Anne’s cousin.” Glancing up to see Anne wrapping herself around Chris, she was relatively comfortable saying, “I assume we needn’t bother sending you an invitation to the wedding.”
“Wedding?” He followed her gaze and came to the same inevitable conclusion. “Christopher is still a Newell. He’ll be getting married in Marin.”
“Wanna bet?” Skye said.
“I seriously doubt that,” Cassie seconded.
“Who the hell are you? Another McCullough?”
“Nope, but I’m engaged to one. Anne’s brother in case you’re interested.”
“And what do you do in this poor excuse for a town?”
Cassie stiffened, then grinned up at the man. “I train horses. And rude men in my spare time. With a horse whip.”
“So get used to the idea,” Skye said. “Most likely your son will be getting married in an old Victorian farmhouse or maybe the local B&B. Or even here in the pub.”
“The pub! Who the hell gets married in a pub?”
Arielle stepped forward to join her friends. “I did, thank you very much.”
He looked her up and down, unable to disguise the lustful look in his eyes that settled on her chest. “Who are you, the local barmaid?”
“Hardly,” Cassie volunteered. “She’s Arielle Bradford McCullough, renowned psychologist from Santa Barbara who chose to move here.”
Anne stopped kissing Chris long enough to notice her brother and cousin walk in the door and head over to the bar to ask Nick what was going on.
“Do you think they need our help?” Matt asked Nick after he’d given them a thirty-second summary.
Nick chuckled and slapped the dishtowel down on the bar. “Are you kidding? If anyone needs help, it’s Chris’s jackass of a father.”
“But we’re not going to give it to him, are we?” Alex asked.
“Hell no, we’re not,” Nick confirmed.
“I have to admit, this is an interesting place,” James Newell said. “It certainly has its share of beautiful women.” He looked Arielle up and down before moving on to Cassie, and ending with Skye. “Good for a two-night stand—or three.”
It was that moment that the three men selected to step forward, each taking their places beside their women.
“I’ll thank you to stop leering at my fiancée,” Alex said first.
“And my wife,” Matt said as he took his place beside Arielle.
”And my fiancée,” Nick added.
“Not so tough after all, I see.” He looked down at the three women in disgust.
“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea,” Matt told him. “These women are some of the toughest you’ll ever meet. The only reason we stepped in was to keep Cassie from taking a horsewhip to you and Skye from slapping you upside the head.”
“I’m shivering in my boots,” he said, his tone mocking.
“Well, if you’re not, you should be,” Chris challenged his father.
James Newell turned his attention to Arielle and said, “This one has a whip, and this one has a nasty backhand. What’s your weapon of choice?”
Arielle looked from Chris to his father, a single eyebrow raised. “My tongue,” she said calmly. “Now, we’ll thank you to get your misogynistic, narcissistic ass out of our pub.”
James Newell walked toward the door, stopping when he reached his son.
“I warned you,” Chris said.
“Are you going to allow your friends to talk to me this way?”
Chris considered the question for a moment before answering. “You mean my family? I’ll have to remember to thank them.” He held his breath for a moment until the door had closed behind the man who claimed to be his father.
Then he turned his attention to the woman he loved. “So, I hear we’re in a committed relationship.”
Anne felt her face turning pink. “You heard that? You were here?”
“No, but the local bartender is fast with his texting thumbs.”
Anne laughed and looked over at Nick who had a guilty expression on his face. “Did he tell you I was back?”
“Of course.”
“So, where have you been?”
“You’re cute when you’re suspicious.”
“Where?”
“The Mendocino Coast, on a photo shoot.”
“And you couldn’t get cell service?”
“I could and I did. At least part of the time. But I wanted to let you stew a while—”
“And see how it felt to miss you? To know what it would be like not to have you in my life?”
“Did it work?”
She punched him softly in the stomach. Then she walked over to the chair where her purse was hanging, pulled out a CD and handed it to Skye. “Track five.”
She walked back over to Chris and pulled him into her arms just as the music started. “It Had to Be You.”
He was smiling when he heard the lyrics as his mouth moved in on hers. When they finally came up for air, she whispered, “You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“You stayed.”
“I stayed.”
“You love me.”
“I love you.” He kissed her on the top of the head, then her forehead, and the tip of her nose.
“I believe you.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You. Your words. Your photographs. Kind of made me swoon.”
“You’re cute when you admit you’re in love with me.”
“Well, you’re cute all the time. So there.”
“You really do like having the last word, don’t you?”
“Get used to it.”
“Happily. So, any ideas on where we should go from here?” He pulled her closer as he led her around the impromptu dance floor. “Upstairs maybe?”
“I think we have some things we need to settle first.”
“And what would those be?”
“Well, I’d just like to know if after we’re married, you think we should keep your loft in San Francisco.”
“After we’
re married?”
“Yeah, I figured we’ll be up in the city a lot so it might be worth keeping it even though we’ll be building a house on the ranch. Of course, we can always stay at Alex’s condo, but it might be good to have our own place too.”
“Definitely our own place,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Four bridesmaids, I think. Unless of course, Skye and I decide on a double wedding in which case it would only be three. And you can tell your friend Joe, probably no on the tux. Maybe a three-piece suit. This is the country after all. Okay with you?”
“Anything is okay with me.” His mind was reeling. He had expected her to feel some degree of regret for having tried to end things with him, but he’d never anticipated a hundred and eighty degree turn around. “As long as you marry me.”
“And I’m thinking white roses and lilacs for the wedding bouquet. What do you think?”
“Sounds good. What else?”
“You know that thing you said . . . about having kids. Did you mean it when you said we could adopt?”
“Yes.”
“Because what if I don’t want to stop dancing long enough to have a baby? I know you want children.”
“Yes, I want children. And yes, I meant it when I said we can adopt. Then you won’t have to stop dancing. I’ll stay home and look after the baby.”
“What if I do want to have your baby?”
Chris felt as if his heart was about to leap out of his chest. He took a deep breath to calm himself before responding. “Then we’ll make a baby together.” He kissed her on the forehead. “And you can choreograph a series of dances around pregnancy.” He knew he’d be doing a series of photographs on the subject. “And I’ll still stay home and look after her. Or him.”
“What if I want to look after her? Or him?”
“Then we’ll do it together.”
She nodded and pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. She could feel his heart beating, almost as fast as her own. He was everything she ever could have dreamed of in a man, in a husband. No, she realized, she never could have dreamed up anyone as incredible as Christopher Newell. All she could say was, thank goodness he snored.
Before she knew what was happening, he’d scooped her up in his arms and headed for the door. “Say good-bye, Anne.” His voice was soft and husky.
“Good-bye,” she called out to her family and friends.
She could hear the laugher as the door swung closed behind them.
“See you in a couple days,” he called over his shoulder.
“A couple days? Are you playing caveman again and kidnapping me?”
“You have a problem with that?”
She smiled as she settled comfortably in his arms. “No problem at all. But I do think we’ll need more than a couple days.”
“Oh, yeah? How long were you thinking?”
“How about a lifetime.”
– THE END –
Verity Norton is a native Californian, but when she moved to an island in the Pacific Northwest she fell in love with rainy days and the island lifestyle of reading and writing by candlelight and depending on a woodstove during power outages. She also writes children’s books, young adult, contemporary fiction, and mysteries under the name Felicity Nisbet. [email protected]
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