“You went to see your family,” she said. “Why?”
“Honestly?” Dawson tugged on her hand to get her moving again. They strolled slowly, the steps barely moving them down the beach. “Because you weren’t here, and I didn’t want to be in Getaway Bay if you were gone.”
There, he’d said it. He’d already told her he loved her, but she had to know he needed her too. Wanted her.
“I’m back, because Stephen needs me for tours.”
She nodded, the wind coming off the bay this winter day grabbing onto her hair and pulling. “In Oahu, I did a bunch of hiking and soul-searching. I called my friends and my parents. I got some things out of my system that had been poisoning me. I worked through some feelings I’d been harboring since the divorce. Well, before that, but yeah.”
Dawson squeezed her fingers. “Those must have been hard conversations.”
“They were,” she said. “And I still haven’t talked to Wilma.”
“Ah.” So she wasn’t one-hundred percent whole. He didn’t care, because she’d healed enough to see him, at least, standing right there and offering her something real. Offering her his heart. His love.
“Anyway, I realized I didn’t want to lose you the way I’d lost my parents, but when I got back, you were gone.”
“You could’ve called,” he said gently, hoping it didn’t sound like an accusation.
“Yeah.” She glanced up at him and tucked her hair behind her ear with her free hand. “But I was scared.”
Dawson released her hand and swept it around her waist, pulling her against him. “I get it, Charlotte. I do. But we have to be able to talk to each other. No fear. No judgment. Okay?”
She sniffed, nodded, and said, “Okay.”
Dawson’s heart swelled with love for this woman. True, she might still need more time. Sure, she might not be all the way whole. But he believed she was his, and he wanted nothing more than to be by her side while she worked through everything.
“Then the wedding came,” she said. “And I wanted to call you, because I could see that love was real. Claudia and David, they loved each other. My parents, they love each other. And I wanted to tell you I loved you.”
A grin spread across Dawson’s face. “I love you too, babe.”
“My phone died, the wedding took forever, whatever.” Charlotte drew in a deep breath. “I slept in, and by the time I got your messages, I had forty-five minutes to get to the airport. But I made it.”
“Yes,” he said. “You made it. And with a sign too.” He chuckled, seeing that black helicopter in his mind’s eye.
“The guy next to me helped me make it,” she said. “I explained everything to him real quick, and he drew the helicopter while I wrote your name. I think we finished about a minute before you came out.”
Dawson wanted to stay in this moment for a long time. The sunshine on his face. The breeze coming off the bay. Charlotte at his side, talking to him again.
They walked for several minutes in silence, and then he asked, “So, will I get to meet your parents?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte dashed into the kitchen as the oven timer went off. “Dawson!” she called as she saw the smoke rising from the vents at the back of the stovetop. That wasn’t good. She’d cooked in the oven several times, and she had no idea what she’d done wrong.
He came in from the deck too, just as she opened the oven and a super-heated blast of smoke got released.
She jumped back, coughing and waving the oven mitts in front of her face. So this turkey was not going to be edible.
“What happened?” he asked as if she could see through all the smoke.
“I don’t know.” But they wouldn’t be eating dinner at the house that night. “My parents will be here in fifteen minutes.” She’d made mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and bought rolls and Hawaiian fruit jam to go with them.
“Maybe it’s okay.” Dawson entered the kitchen with her just as the smoke alarm started screeching. He took the oven mitts and reached into the oven to pull out the turkey. After sliding it onto the stovetop and poking at the bag, he said, “It looks okay. I think something maybe just spilled onto the hot elements.”
“Are you sure?” She stepped over to him and the turkey after he closed the oven door. The bird looked brown on top, with the little red pop-out indicator popped out.
He reached for a knife and sliced open the bag. Another puff of steam escaped, but so did the delicious scent of roasted turkey, sage, and butter. “I really think it’s fine.” He turned off the oven and twisted toward her.
She gazed up at him, the smoke alarm still wailing for all it was worth. “So here we are.”
“Back in the kitchen again,” he said. “At least we’re not drenched like last time.”
Charlotte tipped her head back and laughed, realizing the smoke had lifted all the way to the ceiling. There was no one she’d rather experience plumbing problems, smoky ovens, or life with than Dawson.
“Let’s get this place aired out,” he said. “And you finish up with the gift.” He walked out of the kitchen and toward the front door while she surveyed the table settings and the rest of the food still warming in the pots and bowls.
Then she hurried back out to the deck to finish the painting she’d been working on for her parents. Just a few more strokes of white, and the sky over the bay she’d painted would be perfect.
Her brush went flick, flick, flick, and when she heard Dawson’s voice say, “Oh, hello!” much too loudly, she dropped the brush in the cup of water and turned back to the house.
Her parents had arrived.
She tried to make her heart beat normally, but it was not listening. It thumped and pumped and bumped around in her chest almost painfully as she moved to stand in the doorway leading into the dining room.
Halfway in, halfway out. How she’d been living for almost a year.
But not anymore.
She let the air conditioning wash over her while she got her first glimpse of her mom and dad. Then her mother’s eyes locked on hers, and Charlotte squealed.
She darted over to her, navigating around the table and chairs, and hugged her tight, tight, tight.
Her dad wrapped them both in a hug, and Charlotte couldn’t speak through her emotion and tears. Finally, with her chest so tight because she wasn’t breathing, she drew in a deep drag of oxygen and stepped back from the embrace. “You guys made it.”
“Of course we did,” her dad said, smiling down at her.
“And you’ve met Dawson.” Charlotte moved over to him, glad when he put his arm around her easily.
Her parents didn’t hesitate for even a moment. Her dad shook his hand, though Dawson said they’d met at the front door, and her mother hugged him.
“And he’s…?” she asked.
“My boyfriend,” Charlotte said looking up at him with a smile.
“Oh, is it serious?” Her mom set her purse out of the way, on the corner of the counter.
Charlotte studied Dawson, but he was clearly waiting for her to define their relationship. She wanted it to be serious. She felt like it was serious for her.
So she said, “Yeah, it’s pretty serious.”
Dawson’s face exploded into a smile, and he pressed his lips against her temple, leaving them there too long to be a casual kiss. Oh, no. That chaste kiss on her forehead was an indication of what was to come once they were alone, and Charlotte couldn’t wait.
But her parents were here, and joy radiated through her in spirals. “Okay, so dinner is ready. Are you guys hungry?”
“Yes,” her dad growled. “They don’t even give peanuts on the plane anymore. Did you know that? I had to have some snack mix, and the pretzels were soft.”
Charlotte laughed as she got down a platter for the turkey. Dawson picked up the carving knife without her saying anything, and she loved this dance they’d perfected.
Loved her parents for coming.
Loved her life ag
ain.
“The helicopter has landed,” the intercom on the phone in her office chirped. Charlotte made a grab for a stack of folders and had just dropped them over the planner where she’d been working as Dawson entered.
He paused, clearly aware that he’d interrupted something. “I thought we were going to lunch,” he said slowly, glancing around.
But he wouldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Certainly nothing about the wedding plans Charlotte had been working on for the past six months. No evidence of the dress she’d ordered. Or the flowers she’d arranged. Or the catering company she’d hired.
Now, if Dawson would ask her to marry him already, she wouldn't have to have a secret code with Riley and the front desk, or pretend like she was planning weddings for other brides.
But he hadn’t popped the question yet, and in fact, they’d barely talked about getting married.
“We are,” she said lightly, wondering if she should just ask him. She wasn’t getting any younger, and living in that huge house by herself was starting to suffocate her. She grabbed her purse and slipped her arm through Dawson’s when she met him near the door.
She gave Riley a thank you look as she passed, and Riley acknowledged it with a small smile. Once free of the building, Charlotte said, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Shoot.” Dawson clicked his key fob to unlock the doors on his SUV. Charlotte didn’t move around to the passenger side.
“This is serious, isn’t it?” she asked, meeting his gaze head-on.
“Of course.” He looked a bit baffled, like she’d just splashed ice water in his face.
“So we’re going to get married?”
He blinked. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I’d like to get married.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because we haven’t talked about it much, and you wouldn’t marry that other woman, and it’s been six months, Dawson.” She wasn’t able to keep her frustration tamed, and it leaked into her voice.
The brutal July sun beat down on them as if to enunciate her point.
“I—I guess I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get married.” He looked genuinely confused. “And I’d like to know something else too.”
Charlotte hadn’t had any problems communicating with him since Christmas. “All right.”
“Can we get in the car?” he asked. “I’m melting out here.” He opened his door, and she went around to get in beside him. His air conditioner did bring some relief to the conversation, and she twisted toward him, straightening her skirt.
“All right,” she said. “What did you want to know?”
He searched her face as if the answer would be there and he wouldn’t have to ask. “Kids,” he finally blurted. “I want to know if you want kids.”
His words punched her in the lungs, and she gasped. She searched her memory, but she couldn’t any conversations about this. “I guess…I mean, I thought it was obvious.”
“What was?” he asked.
“I can’t have kids,” she said simply.
“You can’t? Why not?” He reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry. That was probably insensitive.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just—Hunter and I never could get pregnant. For a year or two, I was pretty devastated, but….” She let her voice trail off, realizing she’d never wanted Hunter’s child.
But Dawson? The thought of having a son or daughter with him made her insides clench, and she realized that was something she really, desperately wanted.
“Did you ever find out why?” he asked.
“No.”
“Maybe it’s something that can be helped,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’d kind of like to have kids.”
She cocked her head at him, absorbing everything he’d said. “You don’t ‘kind of’ want kids, Dawson.”
“Fine,” he said, his eyes sparking with heat. “I really want kids. Your kids.” He leaned over and kissed her, one of those slow, sensual kisses that raised her core body temperature and made her heart flutter.
She broke the connection and said, “I’ve been planning our wedding for three months. All I need is a ring and a date.”
Dawson handled the news well, because all he did was chuckle. “Well, I think you probably already have a date in mind. But I guess I can help with the ring.” He reached over and opened the glove compartment, rooting around for a moment before withdrawing a black box.
“How long has that been in there?” she demanded, simultaneously wanting to rip it out of his hands or flee from the vehicle. Her heart thrashed around inside her chest, and her mouth felt so dry.
“A few months,” he said nonchalantly. He cracked the box to reveal a gorgeous round diamond atop a silver ring, with a twisted vine design going down both sides.
“It’s white gold,” he said. “If you hate it, we can go pick something out together.”
“Hate it?” Charlotte wasn’t sure if he’d just proposed or not. Tears filled her eyes as she lifted them to look into his. “I don’t hate it. I love it.”
He smiled and removed the ring from the box. “Charlotte, I’m madly in love with you. And while I didn’t plan to propose to you in my truck, you sort of gave me no other choice.”
A half-sob, half-laugh came out of her mouth, and she wiped her tears quickly.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
She nodded, needing an extra moment before she could say, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He slid the diamond onto her left ring finger and kissed her. When they broke apart, she leaned her forehead against his, cherishing the moment even if it hadn’t gone according to plan. “Dawson?”
“Hmm?”
“I want kids.”
He opened his eyes and pulled back. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “Your kids.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dawson waited in the reception area, his nerves firing around his body like cannons. Charlotte had been with the doctor for at least a half an hour, and he was dying to know what she’d learned.
Their wedding was only two weeks away, and while he’d assured her she could wait to go to the doctor about a possible fertility issue, she’d wanted to go before they got married. She’d been in a few times over the past couple of months since their engagement, but this was the first time she’d invited him to come with her.
Even then, right at the last moment, she’d squeezed his hand and said, “I want to go in by myself.”
“You’re sure?” he’d asked. “I’m happy to be here.”
“I know.”
The nurse had then called her name, and she’d stood all by herself. Marched through the door alone. And so Dawson sat and waited.
The door in front of him opened, like it had several times already, and a nurse stood there. “Dawson?”
He rose, unsure of what else to do.
“Come on back.” She waved him forward, and once he stepped through the door and it was closed, she said, “Charlotte sent me to get you.”
“All right.” He slicked his palms down the front of his shorts, nervous and apprehensive as she indicated room two and told him to go in. He knocked before twisting the knob, and Charlotte said, “Come in.”
He stepped through and found her seemingly ready to go. Evidence of tears sat right on her face, and he said, “Hey, what did she say?”
Before Charlotte could answer, the door opened again. He moved to get out of the way, his stomach coiling and uncoiling every other second.
“Oh, hello, Mister Dane. I understand you’re to be congratulated.” The doctor extended her hand for him to shake, her smile bright.
“I am?” He glanced at Charlotte and back to the doctor before shaking her hand. “For what?”
“You two are engaged, right?”
“Oh, right.” Dawson felt like he was being pranked, and he wanted to get out of this tiny room as soon as possible.
“Well, I’m Doctor Vane, and I have some great news
for you.”
Great news? His muscles released a little, and he exchanged a glance with Charlotte before saying, “All right,” again.
“Charlotte, as you know, has been in a few times, and we’ve been running some tests.”
Dawson nodded, his hand in Charlotte’s so tight he was surprised she didn’t shake him away.
“And while I can’t tell you everything, as it isn’t ethical to do so, I can tell you that Charlotte doesn’t have any signs or symptoms of infertility.”
Dawson looked back and forth between the two women. “Meaning…?”
“There’s no reason that I can see right now why she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant and carry a baby to full term.” Doctor Vane smiled, her white teeth giving Dawson something to focus on while he absorbed her statement.
“You mean she can get pregnant?” Hope and joy filtered through Dawson, but he didn’t release them fully yet.
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Dawson smiled too and turned to Charlotte. She wore a smile as well, and he hugged her. “That’s great news, babe.” He couldn’t quite figure out why she hadn’t just bounced out of the office to tell him herself, so he turned back to the doctor, but she didn’t have anything else to say.
He walked out with Charlotte, knowing deep down in his gut that something was wrong. He waited until they’d gotten in his truck before he said, “So tell me what really happened in there.”
Charlotte turned away from him, her focus out the passenger window. “The reason I couldn’t get pregnant when I was with Hunter is because he’d had a vasectomy.”
Dawson opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. “What?” finally did, full of air and disbelief and rage.
She turned toward him, a single tear tracking down her face. “He got it a year after we got married. He never told me, even when I wondered why we couldn’t get pregnant.” Her face crumpled. “He didn’t want to have a baby with me.”
Dawson drew her into his chest quickly, holding her close to his heart. “But I do, sweetheart. I do.” He held her at arm’s length and wiped her tears. “He doesn’t get to be part of this year, remember? This is your year. Our life.”
Tidal Reservations (Brides & Beaches Romance Book 1) Page 14