“No, I don’t think so.” My smile fades. “I’m the one susceptible to being hurt now.”
Cara
We drive in silence while I grow increasingly anxious. When he turns off into a residential area, my heart thumps in my chest. I don’t understand exactly what he’s doing, but I have a feeling it’s a game changer and that my life is about to shift in a very big way.
“I was surprised you were still working in the coffee shop. I was certain you’d be working in your internship.”
“It starts a month from now. I actually gave my two weeks notice to the coffee shop.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“Persuading you to give it up the internship so you could stay in London. After you left, I read about it. It’s quite prestigious.”
“Yeah, it is,” I reply and the pressure in my chest diminishes.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
The air is heavy between us. “I forgive you.”
He nods slowly and bites down on his lip.
The houses get bigger and bigger, as we twist around the winding roads and edge closer to the coast. When the car slows and takes a sharp turn onto a driveway, my breath grows heavy. It’s nothing like the long drive to Canterwood Manor, but it’s long enough to make you grateful it doesn’t snow in San Diego. The house that comes into view is distinctly craftsman, and blue with white trim. It has a big porch and a beautiful yard. It’s illuminated as if someone is home or left all the lights on.
“Is this where you’re staying?”
“Yes.”
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Yes.” He gets out of the car and jogs over to my side. I’m still staring at the house when the door opens. He holds out his hand again, and I take it, letting him help me out.
He doesn’t let go, but instead intertwines our fingers and leads me up to the front door and unlocks it.
“Are you renting this house?”
“No,” he says simply and opens the door for me and stands back. I cross the threshold and immediately put my hand over my mouth as my eyes take in the scene before me.
“Is this…” I’m unable to say the words.
“Yes,” he whispers.
The living room is filled with furniture from Canterwood Manor. The couches are from the nautical sitting room, the cherry wood tables from the parlor. Stained glass lamps, vases, and the very best art that we inherited fill the room. Big tears well in my eyes and I blink a few times, letting them stream down my face.
“Reid,” I murmur and walk around. He takes me by the hand again and turns me to look at a room off to the side. It’s a home office, and I gasp when I see the two overstuffed brown leather chairs from my grandfather’s library. His old desk is there too. I let go of Reid and walk over to them to feel the soft leather, absolutely stunned that they are the real thing. The walls are lined with bookshelves and stuffed with books from his library. I’m barely able to contain my emotions. I trace down the bindings of some of my favorites, stopping on the copy of A Tale of Two Cities that I left behind in my haste to leave England. My joy at seeing it again is almost too much to bear.
The tour continues through a big, homey kitchen, with new appliances and white marble countertops.
“Really?” I ask as my fingers graze the marble, remembering the moments we had on those countertops in Wells.
“Really,” he confirms with a sly smile.
I’m totally impressed at the lengths he’s gone to recreate the home we lived in when we fell in love. When we first met, he wasn’t the least bit sentimental. This is a colossal leap for him, and I’m humbled that I helped him get there.
We continue to go through the house, each space, each detail, and each flourish holds so much meaning for us. He shows me the master bedroom, and I can’t hold back my gigantic smile when I see his bedroom set from the house. Oh, how I’ve missed being in that bed, especially being in it with him.
I look over at him with hungry eyes, and he reciprocates. Everything inside me ignites. I take a few steps closer to him and place my hands on his chest.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I say and shake my head, so overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions. I swallow hard and meet his eyes. “You bought this house?”
“Yes,” he says.
“For us?” I dare.
He brushes the hair back from my face and cups my cheek. “Yes.”
His touch means everything to me.
“How long have you been here?”
“Three weeks.”
“What? Really, you were here, and I didn’t know?” I ask, pouting against my control.
“Yes, but don’t be mad. To make this happen, I needed the time.”
“What changed your vision?”
“When I saw all of this put up for auction. I just couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t let you go.”
“Reid.”
“So,” he goes on. “I told Damien that we had to revise and that I needed his help. It cost me a small fortune, but he helped me make arrangements to get all of this shipped over here. Evan used his connections to help me find the house. Once that was set, I came over and got to work.”
I shake my head. It’s incredible, absolutely incredible.
“What about London?”
“London and my apartment for that matter felt as cold as a mausoleum on a winter day. There is no life without you in it, Cara.”
“I know the feeling.”
We pause for a moment, and I’m stuck, staring intensely into his blue eyes. There’s such a beautiful spark there. The one that developed over the time I lived with him but was extinguished the day I left. I’m so happy it’s back.
“As for the business, I liquidated my holdings, and sold it off to Victoria. At the end of the day, it was her passion, not mine. I really believe it’s in good hands.”
My mind reels. I hate hearing that. “But Reid, you worked so hard.”
“No, that was your grandfather. It was his company, and I’ll always be grateful for the opportunity he gave me there, but it’s not what I’m meant to do, it’s not what I’m good at.”
I squeeze his arms. “Architecture?”
He nods. “I enrolled at UCSD. I’m going to finish what I started.”
“That is incredible, I’m so happy for you.”
He glances away briefly and nods, gazing back down at me. “I want to build you a home, build it for us one day. One where we have a view of the ocean, and have a big Christmas, and maybe have a family.”
I close my eyes and sink into the love that has never been far from reach. It’s warm and vivid, and it makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever been.
“Cara,” he whispers, and I open my eyes to meet his. “My life is wherever you are. I want this life with you.”
I can’t reply, it’s too hard to articulate the depths of how much I want it too.
“Come, I want to show you one more thing.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes.”
He leads me to another bedroom and switches on the light. I can’t believe my eyes. There, in San Diego, California, in a home bought by my beloved, is my bedroom recreated from Wells. The old double bed, the nightstand and lamp, and to my surprise, the red velvet chair that had been in the attic is all there. I bite my lip and hope beyond hope there’s one more thing from Canterwood Manor. I slowly turn to the wall across from the headboard and see my ballerina painting.
“You brought it home to me,” I say, holding back the sob that so badly wants to escape.
“Yes.”
“But, Reid. It’s worth too much—”
“I think you said it best when you said it could be worth a billion dollars and it wouldn’t matter. If it means something to you, then it means something to me.”
I’m speechless. The room is much bigger than the one in Wells, and I’m able to walk directly over to it, instead of crawl
ing over the bed.
“Hi,” I say to it like it’s an old friend. I glance back at Reid, and he’s beaming. “You know, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this painting. I realized that it’s kind of impractical to keep such an expensive work in my personal possession.”
“Go on,” he says and rubs the back of his neck.
“Please don’t hate me, but we could loan it to the art museum and arrange for a portion of ticket sales to go to the Children’s Immunization Charity.”
He a little stunned and I don’t blame him. After all, this was the trigger of our huge blow up back in London. But in the time I’ve been back, I’ve realized that I was just as unreasonable as he was.
He takes a few steps toward me and cups my cheek. “I think that’s a brilliant idea.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No. I’m actually feeling a little proud. I think Trevor and Anna would have loved that.”
“I’d like to think so.”
We smile at one another, a little goofy like, and I feel like I’m floating. Reid blinks a few times and then asks the question I’m hoping to hear. “So what do you say, Cara? Will you live here with me, will you be mine?”
At that moment, I know we’re more than gasoline and a lit match. It’s so much more than the fire we create. Together, we are two hearts wholly intertwined. He needs an answer, and the only word I can use to express all of what I want and need in this life is simple.
“Yes,” I reply.
He picks me up into his arms and swings me around the bedroom. Our lips collide before he sets me down and I’m brought back to life with each brush of his tongue and each caress of my lips with his.
He pulls back and gazes down at me, his hand knuckles deep in my hair. “Welcome home, Miss Montgomery.”
“Welcome home, Mr. Lewis.”
Epilogue
Reid
Seven Years Later
The Pacific Ocean is in fine form today. I paddle out, duck diving my board through waves on the way to calmer water. It’s another beautiful fall California afternoon. Our stretch of beach isn’t terribly crowded at this time of day, which makes me fall in love with the place we call home a little bit more. I lick my lips getting a heavy dose of sea salt and turn my board around, straddle it, and look back toward the beach. In the distance, my beautiful wife is building yet another sand castle with our spunky daughter, Kate. At four years old, she has learned to love the water, but she loves the sand more. Much like me, she’s a little obsessed with building things.
Cara has to keep readjusting her position, because of her enormous belly bump. We’re only weeks away from bringing another child into the world, another girl, who I’m sure will be just as beautiful as her sister and her mum. All that unruly hair is clearly a genetic trait. I love it, even though I’ll be unclogging shower drains for the rest of my days.
A swell catches my eye, and I paddle forward fast, popping up on my board as I catch the tip of it and take flight over the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cara watch me, just like she always does, mesmerized. I cut back and pump the board to gain some speed. I glide with the wave until I decide to bail. The white water crashes over my head and dissipates as it slides up the shore. I walk the board out of the water toward my family.
“Daddy!” Kate jumps up and runs over to me, consequently knocking over her sand castle. When she realizes what she’s done, she starts to cry. I set my board down and pick her up into my arms. I use my classic move, basically tickling her and making a silly face. It works as usual, which makes Cara roll her eyes playfully at me.
“That was a good one,” my wife says as I set our daughter back in front of her wrecked sand castle.
“Yeah, not too shabby.” I lean over to kiss her lips, ocean water drips off of me onto her, and she shrieks.
Hand-in-hand, we wander back up the stone pathway to the house I designed for us. Kate runs ahead, and we watch her go with content smiles on our faces. I slip into the outdoor shower to clean off. After, I find Cara in the kitchen, whipping up some dinner.
“Here, let me,” I say, and she agrees since she’s having a hard time on her feet these days.
We eat dinner on the deck and watch the sun dip beneath the ocean while we chat about her latest private library acquisition, a rare first edition of the Children’s book Madeline. She wants to keep it for our collection, but she’s been hired to find it for a client. I smile as I listen, knowing precisely what I’ll be getting her for Christmas. Spoiling her is one of my favorite things to do, no matter how much she pretends to hate it.
As I do the dishes, Cara types away on her laptop. The smile on her face can only mean one thing. “Emailing Julie?”
“Yep, I got a message from her today with a ton of photos of her and her hubby. They’re in Budapest having a great time. The photos are crazy good. She has more talent in her pinky than I do in my whole body.”
I dry my hands and walk over to her, put my hands on her shoulders and lean over to kiss her neck. I slide my lips up to her ear. “It’s not your creative talent I’m after.”
“No?” she asks and leans to the side to give me better access to her neck.
“No,” I murmur against her skin. “It’s that heart I want.”
“It’s yours,” she says and turns to meet my lips. I push my tongue in to meet hers, and the kiss stirs me. She’s always had that power over me, to completely distract me from what I’m doing, to completely devour all of my senses.
“Mama, mama!” Kate says and runs into the kitchen, breaking our kiss.
“To be continued,” I whisper into her ear, and she smiles back at me, before tending to our daughter.
I finish up the kitchen and step away to my home office, where my drafting table is set up. Even with AutoCAD and all the software tools at my disposal, I still get a thrill out of drawing. I take a pencil to one of the sketches I’ve been working on for a custom house and go to work. Before I know it, a half hour passes and I decide to check in on Cara.
I leave my office behind and walk down the hall, past all the framed photos that hang on the wall. Pictures of us in Italy on that infamous Scarpa trip, celebrating Thanksgiving together in Ireland with Julie and her crew, at Laura and Gavin’s wedding in Bath, at each of our graduation ceremonies, Kate’s first birthday, and photos from each of the C.I.C. galas we returned to Somerset to attend.
My favorite photos are from our wedding day. We had a simple meadow wedding back in Wells. I’ll never forget the way she looked as she walked down the aisle to me with Gavin and her mum. She was stunning in her white corset top wedding dress. Her hair was partially pinned up, with dangling curls bouncing against her shoulders and her back. I was filled with so many emotions and desires at that moment. Typical Cara. She makes me feel everything.
I find her in Kate’s room rubbing her pregnant belly as she sits on Kate’s bed. Kate is tucked tightly beneath the covers and sucking her thumb. The table lamp has been dimmed and the night light projector beams stars across the walls and a ballerina painting Cara and I discovered by a new up-and-coming artist.
They haven’t noticed me, so I lean against the doorframe and take in the scene. My wife tells Kate the fable of Androcles. It’s become a tradition, much like from when Cara was a small girl, and Trevor told her bedtime stories. Every time she tells this particular tale and lifts her arms to mimic the lion’s roar, Kate’s eyes grow wide as she pulls her thumb out, first startled, but she always ends up in a fit of giggles. On this particular occasion, Cara leans over and grabs hold of her, giving her a bunch of kisses all over her face, causing her to squeal in delight. I wrap my arms around myself and smile. I could watch them for hours on end, the family that I never thought I’d have, but that I’ll hold in my heart until my dying day.
When Cara finishes and Kate is on the verge of sleep, she leans over and presses one last kiss on Kate’s forehead. Then she shuts off the lamp and stands up slowly. She catches me watching and s
miles my way as she pads across the bedroom and out into the hall. I slowly close Kate’s door and look back over at my lovely wife. She holds out her hand for me, and I take it.
“I think I’ve picked a name,” she says with a small smile on her lips.
“Oh really? Do tell, Mrs. Lewis.”
“How about Anna?”
“Anna?” I ask, letting it sink it.
“Yes, Anna Louisa Lewis.”
I love the idea, more than she could ever know. We’d already honored my mother by naming our firstborn after her, and that had meant the world to me. This would mean a lot too. Anna took me in when I needed it most. She gave me a family when I didn’t think I had one, and in her death, she and Trevor brought Cara into my life. “I love it. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she says, her own peace visible through the smile on her face and the shining in her eyes.
I hold her face in my hands and lower my lips to hers, thanking her without words for my life, for my family, and for her heart.
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed Be What Love Is. There’s so much more to come! Julie’s story is next in Pull At My Heart. Keep reading to start her journey in Ireland. Reid and Cara make a few appearances, even from their trip to Italy.
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