Wanderlust
Page 23
Cal rubbed his palm over his lips. He looked away, gathering breath, then he turned again to Annie and ran his thumb over her cheek. "Baby, I have to go to California … alone. If you really love me, it won't just fade away. It will still be there—”
"When will it be there?” Annie's voice nose-dived while her hands flew into the air. “When? When you decide it's convenient for you? I don't want you to be there for me just because of the baby. This is about us. You and me. If you can't stand here right now and tell me ... and tell me—”
"Tell you what, Annie?” Cal grabbed both of her wrists in midair. “That I love you!"
The wind was knocked from her chest. She gaped at him, mouth open, stunned. She could feel her heart on the floor by her feet, flopping and beating.
"Damn it, Annie!" Cal dropped her arms in a huff. "I've loved you from the start. I've loved you since the first time I kissed you in the fucking rain." He never looked away from her eyes. "The thought of you leaving has made me feel like I'm not whole. If I give you anymore of myself, I'll explode. I've told you how I express myself. You know how I express it. I fuck. We fuck! But no woman has seen the side of me you see. Not completely. I don't look on anyone the way I look at you. I'm sorry if I can't say those three words as easily as you, but if you don't know I love you when I look at you, if you can't feel it when I'm fucking you, then I don't know how else to get it through to you. If you love me..."
He slowed down, pleaded with her to finally-finally-finally understand him, to trust him, to accept him for the man who stood before her now — the way he’d asked her to when he’d made love to her.
"God, baby, if you love me, then you will give me the time that I need."
Unable to speak, mouth parched beyond the Sahara, Annie stared into Cal’s eyes.
Pushing her hair back behind her neck, he put his hands on her waist and took a deep breath. "These last few weeks without you made me realize how foolish I was to push you away. I was miserable without you here."
She dropped her gaze.
"Hey." He nudged her hips, and she looked back at him. "I'm not pushing you away, Annie. We’ll have to be apart, yes, but it's only distance, miles. Not our hearts.
"These last few months of knowing you have been like a storm. My life has changed more this past summer with you than it has in the last twenty years. I can't give you everything you want — right now, this instant."
Visibly losing air from her lungs, her shoulders slumped and she smiled. "No, you just gave me the one thing you said you never wanted."
"I hope you really understand what I said before — this is different. I do want this baby." Cal assured her with his eyes. "I do. Or I will. I'm still in shock too." He cupped her cheek. "I will always be there for my child."
He looked past Annie. He’d cast out a net full of so many thoughts in the last five minutes he now appeared to be trying to drag them all back inside his head.
"What is it?" She searched his perplexed expression. "What are you thinking?"
"I never thought I would say those words. My child."
"Those aren't the only words you thought you wouldn't say today."
Standing proud, she gazed into his eyes without further trepidation — no ache, no hurt, no fear.
One of those amazing, full-body sensations bordering on systemic orgasm ran through her muscles, nerves, and veins as she slid her palms up and down his strong arms, gripping them tight at the biceps, holding onto the safety and trust of his sequoia tree for one more night.
Smiling, Cal massaged his fingers at the nape of her neck and bunched her hair while keeping his face centimeters from her lips.
"I love you, Annie Rebekah Baxter." His breath shook as he exhaled those words … and the next. "My heavy."
She laid her head on his chest and listened to the sound of his gentle, stoic, open, and naked heartbeat. Seconds passed, and then she whispered a promise of forever…
"I love you, too."
To be continued…
Ready for Continuum!
Read the epic conclusion to Annie and Cal’s story in book three of The South Beach Connection — Continuum.
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Playlist
Check out the songs Cal and Annie shared, songs mentioned, and songs I listened to as I wrote, on Spotify.
Also by A.R. Hadley
The South Beach Connection Trilogy
Landslide
Wanderlust
Continuum
Drazen Kindle World
Release
Color Me Wicked
Acknowledgments
with gratitude…
Thank you, readers and bloggers and friends, for experiencing the middle of Annie and Cal’s journey! Thank you for reading about a woman who lives life with anxiety and depression.
Thank you to the brave writers of the world who break rules and follow their guts. You inspire me EVERY DAY! And your stories will live in my heart forever (I hope, or until I have to reread your damn books because I love them so much and never want to forget).
Thank you to ALL the people who made this book (and its two companions) possible:
My family and friends — I love you! You were there for me (and remain so) in ways unimaginable. You respected my privacy, held my hand, and encouraged me with your words and love and presence. My husband and children. Kate, Renee, Brittney, Sarah. Many more. XOXO
V.K. — the eyes, the faith, the laughter.
My critique partners, the early readers, and the beta readers for numerous support and advice.
My two editors, Monica Black and Jenny Andreasson Babcock. Thank you for all the expert reconstruction and mark-ups and for helping to keep the match lit under my ass. Monica, you had key insights into Annie’s character in this installment. You understood her. And (as usual) you were there for my every whim! Priceless.
Cassie and Devon — you are consummate professionals. Thorough and outstanding.
Najla … another beautiful cover! My God! You make ideas come to life. Vividly!
Erica — much more than a formatter. Thank you for making sure everything was perfect (we had fun with those poems), and for making certain the world could see Cal’s handwriting!
I thank God for the gifts of reading and writing. Opening a book allows transcendence to another time and place. Reading ignites empathy and compassion in those with an open heart, and it makes the human spirit come alive!
About the Author
A.R. Hadley writes imperfectly perfect sentences by the light of her iPhone.
She loves her husband.
Chocolate.
Her children.
And Cary Grant.
She annoys those darling little children by quoting lines from Back to the Future, but despite her knowledge of eighties and nineties pop culture, she was actually meant to live alongside the Lost Generation after the Great War and write a mediocre novel while drinking absinthe with Hemingway. Instead, find her sipping sweet tea with extra lemons on her porch in Florida as she weaves fictional tales of love and angst amid reality.
http://arhadley.com/