by Pam Binder
The home C.C. and her sisters had chosen came with the added bonus of a second story, which they turned into an apartment for their father. When they proposed the idea to him of living in the apartment, he jumped on the idea. He liked the plan so much that he offered to help get the shop ready as well as helping with the customers after the shop opened. He seemed in better spirits than at any time since their mother had passed away.
“Do you need some help?” Her sister Belle stood at the bottom of the ladder, gazing up toward her. Belle was the oldest of the three sisters and looked exactly like their mother, with short curly dark hair and bright green eyes.
“Almost done,” C.C. called down.
Belle moved away from the ladder and peered out the front window, giving the street a good onceover. “There’s a stretch limo parked outside. Are we expecting visitors?”
C.C. finished adjusting the curtains, pleased with the results. “There are over thirty shops in the village. It’s probably a tour group, or friends on a shopping spree.”
“Could be,” her sister said, absently, “except there’s a hunky guy getting out of the limo.”
“In the first place, men also shop, and in the second, you’re engaged.”
Belle stuck out her tongue at C.C. “I can still look.” She turned back to the window, gasped, and then covered her mouth with her hands. Her hands dropped as she stepped from the window. “Oh. My. Gosh! Mr. Gorgeous is headed straight toward our shop.”
C.C. tried to look out the window, but the curtain’s valance blocked her line of vision.
“We can let him know that we don’t open for another half an hour. I’m still waiting for Emma to bring over cookies from her bakery in the village. I want everything to be perfect. If the man can’t wait, you can give him a brochure and let him know we deliver.”
“Ah, huh.” Her sister pulled her hair off her face and tucked in her shirt. “He looks familiar. Movie star familiar. Like the guy in that Scottish movie trailer we saw recently, starring your ex-boss. What was the name of the movie?”
C.C. gripped the top rung of the ladder. “Highland Rebel.” When she’d seen the beginning of the movie preview with her sister, C.C. had made an excuse to leave, saying she needed more chocolate from the concession counter. She knew if she stayed to watch the whole trailer, she’d burst into tears.
She’d signed the annulment papers and left Scotland without saying good-bye. She didn’t trust herself to tell him what she really thought about him and Tatiana. They weren’t right for each other. But she couldn’t think of a way to say it that didn’t sound self-serving.
Belle’s eyes widened as she turned toward C.C. “You said he had a girlfriend.”
“He does. She’s probably waiting in the limo. They’re expecting a baby.”
“You also said you didn’t have any feelings for him.”
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
The brass bell over the door chimed, and in walked Michael Campbell. He filled the entrance.
That wasn’t fair. He looked better than she remembered. C.C. backed down the ladder as all the feelings and memories she’d kept bottled up inside for the past six months rushed to the surface. The first time they’d met and he walked her home. Their first kiss. How worried he’d looked when he pulled her from the River Ness. How it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around her…
C.C. continued backing down the ladder. Her foot missed the rung and stepped out into air instead. She tumbled backwards, reaching out as she plummeted toward the floor with a scream.
And she landed in Michael’s arms.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Are you hurt?”
The rich timber of Michael’s voice wrapped around her like a protective blanket. C.C. opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She moistened her lips and pressed her hand against her chest, trying to slow the hammering of her heart. She’d missed the sound of his voice.
Michael had carried her over to a chair and set her down, along with the oversized open gym bag he’d been carrying. He gazed at her as though she were the only one in the room. “Your eyes are the color of warm honey.”
“Belle,” C.C. said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a frog’s croak. “Can you give Michael and me some privacy?”
Belle plopped down in a chair nearby. “Not a chance.”
C.C. sent what she hoped was a threatening glare in her sister’s direction. She knew it had missed the mark when her sister giggled and settled back against the chair as though she were preparing to watch a movie. The only thing missing was the popcorn. C.C. sighed and concentrated on Michael. “Why are you here?” She winced at how harsh her words sounded. She couldn’t help it. She was trying to get over him, and she knew the moment she saw him that she’d failed miserably.
“I want to give you something,” he said. “Several things, actually.”
Searching for a distraction, C.C. glanced out the window. The press hadn’t mentioned that he and Tatiana had married or that they’d had the baby. They might have been able to keep both a secret. Probably the wedding announcement would take place the night of the premier for Highland Rebel. “Is Tatiana in the limo? Isn’t she due any day now?”
“She and Darrell had a healthy baby girl.”
“Darrell? I thought they were getting a divorce.”
“No,” Belle answered. “I read that they were back together. Darrell and Michael also formed a foundation to mentor children without fathers. Seriously, you need to keep up with the news.”
“And you should have told me,” C.C. said to her sister through clenched teeth.
Belle batted her eyes in her signature innocent look. “You expressly told me not to mention Tatiana or Michael’s names, under any circumstances. Even if they were swallowed up by a massive earthquake, abducted by aliens, or…”
C.C. groaned. “Got it. We’ll discuss this later.”
The gym bag wiggled, meowed, and then toppled over. A kitten peeked out, gazed toward C.C., and meowed again.
C.C. scooped the kitten into her arms. She was the image of the kitten she’d tried to rescue from the River Ness. Attached to the kitten was a collar with a charm that read Nessie. “She’s adorable. Nessie looks so much like…”
“Like the one in Scotland,” Michael finished. He took a deep breath. “As you heard, Tatiana and I are no longer together. We ended it. It turns out we were each in love with someone else. Tatiana with the man she was trying to divorce and me with a woman who lost a glass slipper. But I didn’t come here just to bring you Nessie.”
He pulled two cardboard boxes from the gym bag. One was sealed in plastic and the other box looked brand new. He handed her the one in plastic first. It had a news clipping attached that read, “Crazy American football player dredges the River Ness looking for shoes.”
C.C. scratched the kitten under her chin. “Are they talking about you?”
“Guilty.”
“These must be the wedding slippers I lost before you rescued me. I can’t believe you found them.” She began to unwrap the plastic, but he stopped her.
“You may not want to open the box. They’re pretty smelly and gross. They’ve been in the water for hundreds of years. My first plan was to travel back in time to where you lost the shoes. Lady Roselyn said that was impossible. The door we traveled through wasn’t available until next New Year’s Eve. The only other door that opened to that exact time period was the door to the Culloden battlefield. Lady Roselyn said the key to that door was missing, and so was Fiona.”
C.C. remembered how concerned Fiona had been when Liam had been shot and then when he hadn’t returned. “I’m not surprised she went after him. Love is a powerful motivator. I hope she finds him. Were Lady Roselyn and Bridget worried?”
“They said they weren’t, but I got a completely different vibe. Lady Roselyn said that Scotland has a strange effect on people. It brings out a person’s true feelings, and sometimes the only course i
s to follow your heart. When I realized I couldn’t travel back in time, and then discovered that your shoes were ruined, I had this brainstorm.” He reached for the second box. “The originals were a mess, so I asked Tatiana if she would make you a duplicate pair.”
Little Nessie jumped down from C.C.’s lap and sniffed the box. She meowed her approval as Michael lifted the lid. Inside was an exact replica of C.C.’s wedding shoes, the ones that reminded her of the glass slippers described in all the Cinderella stories she’d read or seen in the movies.
He grinned. “I’m searching for the woman of my dreams who can fit into these glass slippers.”
“You went to a lot of trouble,” she said under her breath.
“You are worth it.”
She lifted her gaze, and then her mind numbed as she was lost in his smile. He was smiling. Full-on smiling. It took her a moment for that to register and then to realize that he was waiting for her to respond. “But why?”
“That’s an interesting story,” he said, kneeling down as he slipped off one of her shoes. “It seems that the woman I married ran away before I could tell her I loved her. I have a feeling she wouldn’t have believed me even if I had tried, however. I decided I needed to make a grand gesture, like Prince Charming.”
“The prince didn’t make a grand gesture,” C.C. said in a whisper.
“Of course he did. He’d fallen in love with a woman who’d lost a glass slipper and then vanished at the stroke of midnight. He did what any man in love would do. He announced to the world that he would search the kingdom for the woman who fit the glass slipper and then ask her to marry him.”
“That was risky,” C.C. said. “In the entire kingdom, I’m sure there were at least one or two other women who wore the same shoe size. Plus, Cinderella wasn’t a princess.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting that they were enchanted glass slippers and would recognize their owner. Something the prince knew, being a prince and all. But I’ve also had a lot of time to think why the prince wanted to have all the women in the kingdom try on the shoe. I think that he already knew Cinderella wasn’t a princess when he made his announcement. Otherwise, why go to all the trouble of going door to door? No, our prince was a smart man. He knew what he was doing. He was letting Cinderella know how important she was to him and the lengths he would go to, to prove his love. It didn’t matter to him if she was from his world or not. He loved her.” Michael lifted a slipper from the layers of tissue. “His proclamation to search the land was his grand gesture of love. Do you want to hear the story of a modern-day prince and his grand gesture?”
Belle picked up the kitten, which had wandered over to her, before she cleared her throat and raised her hand. “I do.”
Michael’s smile grew wider. “The prince in my story braved not only the icy cold waters of the River Ness but the dangerous monster that lurked in its depths.”
C.C. raised her eyebrow. “Lurked?”
Michael gave a curt nod. “Lurked. I wonder if the Brothers Grimm had this much trouble with critics?”
She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. “Sorry. Continue.”
The brass bell over the door chimed again, and C.C.’s sister Briar Rose entered. “What’s going on?”
Belle squealed with joy and motioned for Rose to join her. “It’s Michael Campbell. I think he’s going to ask our sister to marry him.”
Rose rushed past C.C. to join Belle. “Michael Campbell? The quarterback?” Rose gazed over at Michael and then sat down in the chair beside Belle. “Isn’t he Dad’s favorite player? Should we ask Dad if he wants to watch too?”
“Maybe we should ask the whole village.” C.C. offered.
Belle exchanged a glance with Rose. “Should we?”
C.C. buried her head in her hands. “This is not happening.”
Michael pulled C.C.’s hands away from her face. “I don’t care if your sisters invite your dad—or the whole world, for that matter. I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you from the moment we first met.”
“Ask her,” both Belle and Rose said at the same time. Little Nessie chimed in with a loud meow.
Michael took both of C.C.’s hands in his. “I love you, Cinderella Charming. Will you marry me?”
His words surged through her, releasing the emotions she’d kept under lock and key. She leapt into his arms, warmed by the love she saw reflected in his eyes. She held his gaze as the world drifted away.
The delighted screams of her sisters faded into the background. Somewhere she heard her father’s voice as he walked down the stairs to ask why everyone was screaming. Somewhere she thought she heard the bell over the door chime as people entered her shop.
She smiled, her lips a breath away from his. “Yes, my prince, I will marry you.”
A word about the author…
Pam Binder is an award-winning Amazon and New York Times Bestselling author. Publisher’s Weekly has said, “Binder gracefully weaves elements of humor, magic and romantic tensions into her novels.”
Drawn to Celtic legends and anything Scottish or Irish, Pam blends historical events, characters, and myths into everything she writes.
Pam is the president of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, a conference speaker, and teaches two year-long novel-writing courses, “After the First Draft” and “Write Your Story.” Pam writes historical fiction, contemporary fiction, and fantasy.
Visit her at:
http://pambinder.com
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