by Terri Osburn
“In a few months.”
“No. Today. I saw him putting suitcases in his car.”
Henri followed Callie to the sink. “You realize Christmas is in four days. He’s probably going home to visit and then coming back.”
Callie hadn’t thought of that. But that didn’t change the facts.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You still have a chance to fix this.”
Jerking open the jar of tea bags, Callie dropped one into a mug. “There’s nothing to fix,” she said, turning on the faucet at the same time a knock sounded at her front door.
Both women froze, looking at each other as if there might be an ax murderer knocking politely to come in and kill them.
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know,” said Henri. “I left my X-ray vision glasses at home.”
Callie set the mug in the sink. “It must be Will,” she said, shuffling toward the door. “They must need me for something across the . . .” But the words fell away as she opened the door to find Sam standing on her porch, holding a suitcase.
Her ability to speak deserted her. All she could do was stare at him, half expecting to blink and find that this was all in her imagination.
“Hi,” Sam said, holding the suitcase in a white-knuckled grip.
“Hi.” If her heart beat any faster, Callie worried Henri might have to call 911.
“This looks like a good time to pay Yvonne a visit,” Henri said, easing past Callie, then around Sam, who didn’t move or look away from Callie’s face.
“I saw you,” Sam said. “By my cabin.”
Humiliation washed over her. “Yes, that was me.”
Sam shifted. “Why were you there?”
She couldn’t admit the truth. Not yet. “Why were you putting that suitcase in your car?”
Looking down, as if he’d forgotten he was holding something, Sam said, “I planned to go somewhere.”
“Oh.” Of course he was going somewhere. That didn’t answer her question at all.
“Can I come in?” Sam asked. “I’d like to tell you where I was going.”
If she let him in, it was going to be more difficult to watch him leave again. But her manners kicked in and Callie stepped back. “Sure.”
Stepping into the foyer, Sam set the suitcase down next to the boxes she had stacked along the wall. “I see you’re going somewhere, too.”
“I told you I would be out after the wedding. Henri is here to help me move to another cottage in the village.”
“Oh. About that,” he said, taking Callie by the hands and pulling her into the living room. He dropped onto her blue chair, tugging until Callie took a seat on the ottoman. “You like this chair a lot, don’t you?”
The question took her by surprise. “Yes, I do. It’s my favorite piece in the cottage.”
“Then you should have it,” he said, as if suggesting she pack the chair into her purse.
“But it belongs here.”
“Yes, it does.” He was talking in circles. Confusing her. “The chair belongs here, and so do you.”
Callie hopped to her feet. “I don’t understand any of this. You were supposed to tell me where you were going.”
“Here,” Sam said, rising to his feet. Standing too close for Callie to think. “I was coming here, because this is where you are and I want to be wherever you are, Callie.”
“But you said you were leaving Anchor. You’re moving back to Charleston.” Desperate for space, she put the couch between them. “And I don’t want to move back to Charleston.”
“Then we won’t move.”
“What?” Why did he say “we”?
“If you want to live on Anchor, then we’ll live on Anchor. I’ve come to realize this place means as much to me as it ever did, with or without Uncle Morty here.” Sam circled the couch, catching Callie’s hands before she could run again. “I shouldn’t have planned a future for us without giving you a say. Without asking what you wanted.”
Something warm was spreading through Callie’s chest, but her brain still felt muddled.
“You planned a future for us?”
“I was an ass,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “I thought I could buy a hotel and we would renovate it together. Make it ours. But I never stopped to ask if that’s what you wanted.”
“When . . .”
“I tried to tell you the night we made love in the bathtub. I’d started looking for properties earlier that day.”
That meant his plan hadn’t been because of a baby. He’d wanted her before. He’d wanted her.
“No,” Callie said, pulling her hands free and pacing into the kitchen. “I don’t have anything to give you. I haven’t done enough yet. It’s not enough.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.
“You have everything,” Callie said, her voice hitching as she tried not to cry. “You own things. You have money and power.” Pounding on her chest, she tried to make him see. “I don’t have anything. I married Josh and I had nothing and I tried so hard to be enough, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make him happy.”
“Callie, you’re wrong. You’re more than enough.” Sam took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You’re the most organized person I’ve ever met, and an incredible decorator. You see a problem and you solve it before anyone else could even break it apart. You understand people. You see the good and the possibilities in everything.”
Cradling her face in his hands, he added, “But more than that, you’re beautiful and intelligent. Sexy and determined. And you’re the woman I love. The only woman who has ever given me peace and made me feel alive. If anything, I’m not enough for you.”
Callie clung to Sam’s shirt, desperate to believe him. “Someday you’ll change your mind,” she said. “And I won’t survive it when you do.”
Pressing his forehead to hers, Sam said, “I will never, ever change my mind. And I intend to spend the rest of my life making you see how special you are. Callie, you have more to give than I could ever deserve. I love you.” He pulled away to look into her eyes. “I love you.”
Callie wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist, holding on for dear life to the man she’d thought she could never have.
“I love you, too, Sam. I love you so much.”
Rich laughter rumbled through his chest beneath her ear. “Does that mean I can stay?”
Pulling back, Callie said, “If you make one move for that door, I’ll sic Cecil on you.”
“Darling,” he said, “neither of us is going near that door for several hours.” A familiar storm appeared in his eyes. “Maybe not for days.”
“I intend to hold you to that promise, Mr. Edwards,” Callie said, leading him toward the bedroom. “We have several weeks to make up for.”
Stopping in the hall, Sam waited until Callie turned to face him. “I love you, Callie.”
“Good,” she said, stepping into his arms. “Because I love you, too.” After a too-short embrace, Callie jerked back. “But what about that property in Charleston? Are you giving that up for me?”
“I’d give up anything for you,” he said, tugging her back. “But in this case, I simply won’t be overseeing the renovation in person. It’s still a great investment, and I was hoping you might consult on the design.”
Callie’s face lit up before a sly grin took over. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve just finished this huge project within a very tight time frame. My stock is higher now, so my services are much more expensive.”
He loved hearing the confidence in her voice. “And you’re worth every penny. But I assure you, we’ll meet any price.”
“Then I’ll have my people call your people.”
Sliding his hands around to the small of her back, he said, “Good. But right
now, I believe we were heading somewhere down this hallway.”
“Yes, we were.” Callie took Sam’s hand and led him to the bedroom. They were breathless from kissing before she spoke again. “Are you sure you can be happy here?”
“I can be happy anywhere so long as you’re with me. But let’s just say that Morty found a way to remind me how much I once loved this island.” Sam tucked Callie’s hair behind her ear. “That doesn’t mean we have to stay here forever, but whatever we decide, we’ll do it together.”
“As equals?” she asked, a trace of doubt etched around her eyes.
“Not sure I can say that.” Callie’s face fell, before Sam pressed on. “But I’ll do my best to rise to your level, if you’ll be patient with me.”
His words took several seconds to sink in, but he could see when understanding dawned.
“Now you’re just playing with me.”
Sam nuzzled her neck. “I’m trying to, but you keep talking.”
Callie took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I want you to be sure. I need to know that you really want this. That you understand what you’re getting.”
“I’m getting you,” he said, touching her nose with his. “What more is there to understand?”
She tilted her head. “That means you get my mother, too.”
He hadn’t thought of that. Good thing he loved Callie more than anything. “Can we limit how often she visits?”
Ice-blue eyes rolled heavenward. “We can try, but I can’t guarantee we’ll be successful.”
“Are you prepared to meet the great and powerful Eugenia Edwards?” he asked, knowing his mother wasn’t such a bargain either.
Callie’s nose crinkled. “She isn’t going to think I’m good enough for you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t care what she thinks.”
With a nod, Callie agreed. “That is a good thing.”
“But she might surprise you. When I let her know I wouldn’t be home for Christmas, she barely made a fuss.” Sam rubbed a thumb along Callie’s bottom lip. “She might be mellowing in her old age.”
Stepping backward, Callie reached the bed and pulled Sam down next to her. “I could turn on my spectacular people skills and win her over,” she said, her eyes on Sam’s mouth, which made it difficult to focus on what she was saying. “Eventually, she might think of me as the daughter she always wanted.”
Sam’s body hardened as Callie dropped onto her back. “Can we stop talking about my mother now?” he asked, his body and brain warring over whether to be turned on or utterly disturbed.
Callie laid a hand on his cheek, and her eyes darkened. “How about we stop talking altogether?”
With that, she took his mouth, ending the war with one hot stroke of her tongue. And, as Sam had promised, they spent the next several hours showing each other how much they had to give. Which was more than he’d ever imagined.
EPILOGUE
Bloody hell. The little bugger is off again.”
Jude Sykes pinched the bridge of his nose as Joe Dempsey chased his rambunctious daughter around the gazebo. As the flower girl, Mary Ann was required to stand still and look pretty for the wedding pictures. Looking pretty, she could do in her sleep. Standing still was another matter altogether for a one-year-old who’d only recently found her legs.
In direct contrast with the runaway pixie, Jacob Littleton, a somber and serious-looking three-year-old, perched calmly on the bottom step of the gazebo, his ring-bearer pillow hugged tight against his chest. Jacob took his duties very seriously, as he did all things. Mary Ann had made him drop the pillow twice already. He was not about to let her do so again.
“Come on, pumpkin,” Joe said, settling his daughter next to Jacob, who had to swipe her wayward curls out of his eyes. “Sit pretty for Daddy. Don’t you want your picture taken in your fancy dress?”
“Cake!” Mary Ann exclaimed, trying to make a break for it again. This time her daddy kept her in place with one hand on her knee.
“If you sit, you get cake,” Joe said, resorting to bribery. “If you get up, no cake.”
Mary Ann stuck out a mutinous bottom lip but crossed her arms and stayed put. Joe backed away slowly while the photographer dropped to one knee.
“This is why I don’t do weddings,” Jude mumbled. “I should charge Will double my wages for this one.”
“We signed a contract, Picture Boy,” Will Parsons said, stepping up between Callie and the photographer. She made a goofy face at the pouting children, making them both laugh and allowing Jude to land the shot.
“I need the bride and groom,” he yelled, as he rose to his feet, examining the kiddie shot. “You didn’t tell me there would be children, love.”
“It’s a wedding,” Will said, as Callie waved over her groom. “Kids were a given.”
“Not in my world,” the Brit mumbled.
“I can’t believe how perfect the weather turned out,” Callie said, holding a hand over her eyes to dull the glare of sunlight off the harbor. “Last year at this time, there was snow on the ground.”
The bride wore a white faux-fur wrap over a stunning, sequined mermaid gown that showed off her figure to perfection and had every man in attendance exceedingly envious of the groom. Not that the groom noticed anyone but the woman taking his hand.
Sam Edwards was a changed man. He’d become a cynic about love, and with good reason, until he’d fallen headlong in love with Calliope Henderson. There were disagreements. Differences of opinion. But Sam had vowed exactly one year ago to show Callie every day that she was more than any man deserved.
And he’d kept that promise. Callie ended many a day with sore cheeks from constant smiling and laughter. If anyone had told her that the stuffy, uptight hotelier who’d tried to terminate her employment before he’d even hired her would become as lighthearted as a child, Callie never would have believed it. But then, Sam was full of surprises.
He’d vowed to give Callie the wedding of her dreams, which was why the event had taken a year to plan. And though planning weddings had become Callie’s new profession, Sam had insisted she surrender all the planning to him. Which she’d done, but only once he’d agreed to allow Will, Callie’s new boss, to consult.
According to Will, Sam had informed her of his intentions and choices, but she wasn’t sure the man understood the meaning of the word consult.
As Callie stood in the center of the gazebo she’d helped design, with the sun dancing off the water behind her and all her new friends enjoying the perfect day her new husband had given her, she wouldn’t have changed one single thing about the moment.
“Are you happy, Mrs. Edwards?” Sam asked, his smoky gray eyes shining as he held her close against him.
Pretending to straighten his pristine bow tie, she said, “Happier than I ever thought possible.” Looking up, Callie couldn’t believe this man was her husband. Hers. Forevermore. “There’s a latent wedding planner hidden deep inside you, my dear. Maybe you should work with Will and I should run the hotels.”
Dropping a kiss on her nose, Sam said, “I have no doubt you could run my hotels with little effort, but this is the only wedding I’m ever planning.”
“Ever?” Callie said, struggling to hide her smile.
“Ever,” Sam said, taking her mouth for a less innocent kiss.
“These are wedding photos,” Jude yelled, “not boudoir shots.”
The groom reluctantly ended the kiss, but he refused to let so much as a breath of air pass between him and his bride.
“Let’s bring in the rest of the wedding party, please,” Jude directed, as Will herded her husband, Randy, as well as the flower girl’s parents, Joe and Beth Dempsey, onto the gazebo stairs. “Where’s the maid of honor?” she asked, looking around for the slender woman with the shock of white-blonde hair.
“Right here,” Henri answered, dropping Yvonne’s hand and hiking up the hem of her long gown. As she took her place beside her cousin, there was still one person missing.
“We need Lucas.” Will scanned the crowd.
“He was with Sid at the dessert table last time I saw them,” Beth said.
“I still feel bad that Sid couldn’t be in the wedding,” Callie mumbled, searching the crowd along with everyone else.
“She was fine with it,” Beth said. “I doubt we would have found a dress to cover her belly at this stage of things anyway.”
Watching the tiny boat mechanic waddle their way, Callie sighed. “She looks so miserable.”
“She is,” Beth replied. “But little Pilar will be here any day now, and Sid won’t remember any of the misery.”
Callie cut her eyes to the curly-haired bridesmaid. “You don’t really expect us to believe that.”
Keeping her green eyes on Sid, Beth said, “That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Sid yelled, “I’m fine. Get your scrawny ass up there so they can take the damn picture.” With one hand braced on her lower back, Sid shoved her husband toward the gazebo with the other.
“But you said—”
“Don’t ruin this for Blondie.” Sid shoved again. “Get in the picture.”
Seconds later, the party was in place and Jude snapped off a round of shots before a loud wail echoed from the pregnant woman. Bending at the waist, Sid kept a hand on her lower back.
“Not again,” Sam said, charging down the steps with the rest of the party. “The limo is waiting out front. It can hold six of you.”
“But that’s for you guys!” Beth said.
“It’s the best option.” Sam helped Randy clear a path through the crowd as Lucas fussed around his wife, who was cursing and panting in tandem. “We’ll call the hospital to let them know you’re on the way.”
The Anchor Health Clinic had been upgraded to the Edwards Medical Center, which served as a small but well-equipped hospital, including a full birthing ward, six months before.
Eugenia Edwards approached her son as the pregnancy posse circled the end of the Sunset Harbor Inn. “I say, what in the world is all the commotion?”