Cupid's Mistake

by Chantilly White

  They whispered the whispers of lovers and loved each other by touch and by deed all through the night. When the dawn hovered on the brink of a new day, she sprawled across his chest, perfectly exhausted, gloriously wrecked. Utterly content.

  Ben shifted her into his arms, but Allison barely registered the move before sliding back into a comfortable doze with her back tightly pressed to Ben's torso. Her bottom nestled snugly in the cradle of his lap, her legs entwined with his, and her head pillowed on his arm. He stroked her hair with his free hand while they watched the world lighten outside her window.

  When the first birds began calling to the day, Ben tightened his arms about her and dropped a kiss on her head.

  "I have to tell you something, Allison," he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear.

  Her heart gave one hard kick at the thread of nerves she heard beneath his words, but she shifted in his arms until she could look into his eyes. His were serious, the green a deep, dark shadow in the dim light. She couldn't read his expression.

  Ben raised up on his elbow, putting more space between them, and her nerves kicked harder. He was going to tell her he loved her. Finally, finally. Words she'd never accepted—never wanted—from any other man. Words she'd shared liberally with family and friends, but had never given to a lover. She would say them to Ben.

  Oh, God.

  The importance of the moment shone with the radiance of a million firecrackers going off all at once in her heart, and she bit the inside of her cheek to prevent the tears from falling. Not yet. She wanted her gaze clear when he told her, wanted to see the words reflected in his eyes.

  Ben brushed the hair from her face with his free hand, then trailed his fingertips over her cheek and across her lips. He kissed her there, and cupped her face in his palm.

  "Do you know what today is?" he asked, throwing her. The day?

  Hesitant, wondering what he was getting at, she said, "Thursday?"

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in that almost-smile she loved so much, squeezing her heart in a painful vise. The long night of lovemaking had left her emotions raw, vulnerable, much too close to the surface.

  "It's Valentine's Day."

  "I—oh. I guess it is."

  How could she have forgotten? She had an event later that day, an anniversary cocktail party.

  "It is. The first one in a very long time that I'd like to celebrate. With you. Will you be my valentine, Alli?"

  Warmth flooded her heart, along with a healthy dose of relief. For a split second, she'd wondered if she'd read him all wrong and he was about to leave her, his voice had been so serious. The smile that broke over her face reflected in his eyes, brilliant and shining.

  "Of course," she said, pulling him in for another kiss. She traced the hard-pounding pulse at the base of his neck with her fingertips, thrilled that his heart beat in time with hers.

  "Good," he said when they broke apart. "Then you can have your present."

  "My present?" she said, mentally kicking herself. "But I didn't get you anything."

  Why hadn't she thought of that? But then, she hadn't celebrated a Valentine's Day with a boyfriend since college. It hadn't even been on her radar, other than as a day that tended to be good for business.

  "Yes," he said, his gaze smoldering over her naked body and shooting her pulse back to the stratosphere. "You did."

  "Oh, did I?" Her eyebrows winged up in amusement. Men were so easy. But still, her heart beat anxiously in her chest. Waiting for the words.

  Ben traced a finger between her breasts, a frown of concentration on his brow. "I might need a second round to be sure."

  "I think you mean ninth," she said, her grin sitting smugly on her lips. Not that she'd been counting.

  He laughed. "My mistake."

  "Well, then, I definitely earned a present. What is it?"

  "You'll see. Hang on."

  He pinched her bottom, then bounded out of bed like a five-year-old on Christmas morning, all six-foot-seven of him. She hadn't seen this playful side of Ben Turner before. He strode naked from the room, ducking his head at the last moment to avoid cracking his skull on the doorframe, one incredibly delectable specimen of manhood. But what was he up to?

  Thirty-seconds later, Ben returned, a plain brown paper sack in his hand. She started to scoot up in bed, but he waved her back down. Climbing in to face her, his eyes full of secrets, he smoothed the frown from between her brows with the tip of his finger. He must have hidden the gift in her house at some point, he certainly hadn't had it with him last night. How long had he been planning this surprise? Thoroughly confused, Allison waited, her breath held.

  "This isn't quite how I planned to do this," he said, and Allison's heart rolled over. Do what? Did he mean. . . "I stashed this in the back of your wine cabinet a week ago, waiting for the right time. I was going to do a whole thing. But this feels right."

  The bag rustled, and Allison closed her eyes briefly, too many emotions fighting for dominance. Happiness, fear, anticipation, nervousness.

  Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. . .

  When he removed his hand from the bag, a lovely filigreed locket hung from his fingers. A silent breath of relief won out over the tiniest flash of disappointment. She'd been half afraid, half hoping, he was about to propose to her. She would have said yes. She loved him, and she wanted all of that, the whole package. Someday. And only with Ben. But not yet. Being in love was so fresh and new, she wanted to savor each stage of the journey with him, not rush pell-mell through the steps.

  But she wanted the words.

  Focusing on the locket, she said, "It's beautiful."

  His eyes traced the swinging bit of gold before shifting to meet her gaze. "It was my mother's," he said.

  Allison's heart simply dissolved.

  "Oh, Ben," she said, her eyes misting as she placed a hand against his cheek.

  He turned his face into her palm, kissed her there, then leaned into her hand as he looked at her. "It's not terribly valuable," he said, and Allison thought, You're wrong. It's everything.

  "It was the first gift my father ever gave her," he continued. "They started out with nothing, but they loved each other and didn't care. My father made a fortune in the brief years they had before they died. He bought her trunks full of expensive jewelry. It's all in a vault at the bank. But this. . . this she wore every day. I never saw her without it. I'd be honored if you'd wear it, Allison."

  Wordless, Allison kissed him, trying to put every feeling into the press of her lips against his. He brushed the dampness from her eyes, and the smile he gave her was so full, so sweet, her heart swelled with love almost too pure, too strong for a poor human heart to bear.

  Ben spoke into her stunned silence. "Allison." He wrapped her tightly in his arms, the locket clutched in his fist. "Some people search for a lifetime to find that special one, wasting years in the hopes of finding what I did on my first trip back into the dating world."

  "I—"

  He brushed a kiss against her lips. "I'm in love with you."

  His next kiss swallowed her sob. Those words, those glorious, magical, incredible words. How could she have guessed the true power they'd hold when uttered by the man she loved with all her heart?

  "You make me happier than I ever thought I could be," he said. "I know we haven't been together that long, but it's been an intense few weeks. I know you. You know me. You make me happy, Allison. Say you love me."

  "Oh, Ben," she said. Brimming with joy, she rested her hand against his cheek while her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. "I love you. I do. It's crazy, but—"

  "I don't care." He leaned up and she lifted her hair out of the way as he clasped the locket around her neck. "It may be crazy, but it's right."

  Whispering the words to each other over and over, their breaths mingled with their kisses, and their kisses deepened as they made love for the first time with those words spoken between them. A promise and a prayer.

  Their future
spread before them, a golden vista full of hope, shared dreams, and the joy that only comes with finding that special someone and having the strength, the faith, and the courage to hold onto them once found.

  Through it all, through every sigh, and touch, every whispered word, Allison's heart beat with gratitude. Because sometimes, Cupid's arrow strikes the heart of a mistake. But sometimes, his aim is true.

  EPILOGUE

  Fifty-one years later. . .

  "Happy anniversary, Grandma and Grandpa!"

  "Here's to another fifty, Ben and Allison."

  Allison's eyes misted as the toasts were made, Ben's arm securely around her waist. Their friends and family spread before them on the lawn of their home in Corona Del Mar, champagne glasses raised in their honor. Children ran everywhere, laughing and shrieking like the gulls wheeling in the sky.

  It was a perfect day.

  The sun shone brightly and the waves crashed as always, providing the background music of their lives. The beach house had stood the years with grace and style, thanks to constant maintenance and determination. Not unlike herself and her husband of fifty years.

  Oh, they were older now, wrinkled and grey, but there was still plenty of kick left in their hearts and limbs. They'd proved their youthfulness with a family trip to Costa Rica a few months ago, plenty of hiking, kayaking, zip-lining and hang-gliding included. And they enjoyed it regularly with the intensity of their lovemaking.

  Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Ben stared into her eyes as the rest of the party continued around them. The smiles they shared were private in the midst of the public gaiety, as full of fun as they'd been from the start.

  "Put sunscreen on if you go down to the water, love," he said, as he always did.

  Ben kissed her temple again and squeezed her waist before taking himself off for a game of catch with their grandchildren. She watched his form across the lawn, as straight and steady as he'd been on their first date all those years ago. Her fingers sought the locket resting in the hollow of her throat, and the mistiness threatened to turn to real tears. Thankfulness overwhelmed her, squeezed her heart with love.

  Later, they would dance on the porch while their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and those of their friends, ate their way through the spreads on the buffet tables in the garage.

  Their oldest daughter, Brenda, had outdone herself with the party decorations. Allison congratulated herself on that score. She'd made the right decision in passing her event planning business into Brenda's capable hands.

  Through the open kitchen window at her back, Jeff's and Greg's voices rumbled in low murmurs, counseling their grandson on his latest girlfriend troubles. The boy was a heartbreaker. Every bit as handsome as Jeff had been at his age, and just as determined to live life on his own terms.

  On the beach, Mia and Derrick strolled arm in arm, two of their granddaughters striding beside them. Allison wished for her camera, then smiled to herself when she noted her youngest son capturing the moment for her on the Nikon she and Ben had given him last Christmas.

  It delighted her to have them all gathered to celebrate this golden anniversary, all the more so to hold the event in the home she and Ben had made and filled with love and laughter.

  They'd had their share of hard times, of tears and tempers, worries and woes. But the one constant had seen them through every tribulation and increased the joy in every celebration—the love they held for each other and the family they'd made together.

  Cupid's Cavalry was no more. DeeDee had sold the business and retired to Florida a decade ago, and the new owner had promptly run it into the ground, not having DeeDee's business sense or her flair. But for Allison and Ben, the dating service would always hold a special place in their hearts.

  On this day, with the brightly sparkling 'Happy Fiftieth' banners fluttering in the background, Allison whispered a special thank you for the golden arrow blind Cupid had shot straight and true, forever joining the hearts of a giant hobo and his high-maintenance party princess.

  ~THE END~

  COMPLETE BOOK LIST

  Did you enjoy Cupid's Mistake? Please consider leaving a review! They are very much appreciated. Click the Buy Links below to purchase Chantilly's other titles, or visit her website at http://ChantillyWhite.com for more information. Don't forget to keep reading for an excerpt from Pearls of Pleasure!

  Pearls of Passion http://www.amazon.com/Pearls-Passion-Contemporary-Short-ebook/dp/B007FL5LCO

  Pearls of Wisdom http://www.amazon.com/Pearls-of-Wisdom-ebook/dp/B007X5HEKY

  Pearls of Pleasure http://www.amazon.com/Pearls-of-Pleasure-ebook/dp/B009GBJR5S

  Unwrapped http://www.amazon.com/Unwrapped-ebook/dp/B00ATSAR10

  EXCERPT ~ Pearls of Pleasure, by Chantilly White

  REVIEW

  "Chantilly White has done it again with her Pearls of Pleasure. I have to echo the same sentiment of another reviewer - Pearls of Pleasure is a wonderful addition to Ms. White's "pearl" stories - Pearls of Passion and Pearls of Wisdom. The story concept is definitely interesting and unusual, you can't help but loving these characters, and Ms. White pulls you deep into their story and has you rooting for them from her opening page. A wonderful read all around. I definitely cannot wait for her next book."

  ~Carol A. Hughes, Author and Instructor

  DEDICATION

  This love story is dedicated with gratitude to the First Responders ~ Firefighters, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical Personnel, Military and Civilian Support Teams ~ and the families, friends and loved ones who worry about and support them. You are an inspiration, a light in the darkness, a protector, a helping hand, a shoulder, a friend. Thank you.

  And to my husband ~ my every hero, every single day, in every way. I love you.

  Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears

  Today of past regrets and future fears;

  Tomorrow? Why, tomorrow I may be,

  Myself, with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.

  ~Omar Khayyam

  Pearls of Pleasure

  By Chantilly White

  PROLOGUE

  Big Bear Lake, California ~ September, 2009

  Gwen Coffey hugged her secret to herself like a warm, fluffy blanket. One covered in bouncing baby bunnies and sweet little kittens with drippy milk mustaches. She didn't have a fluffy, oh-so-cute blanket, though, so she hugged the sofa pillow instead, and grinned like a fool.

  Tomorrow. She would tell David tomorrow, and watch his sapphire eyes light up like Christmas, New Year's and the Fourth of July all rolled into one. He'd be off-shift for a few days, and they could celebrate in style.

  She'd make a special dinner—prime rib, that was his favorite—and wear something lacy and see-through and absolutely useless for anything but ripping off. And later. . .

  Her belly quivered, just thinking of the hours they'd spend in their bed, enjoying a more intimate celebration. The way he would run his hands over her skin.

  The pleasure they'd share.

  A jaw-cracking yawn interrupted her musings, and that made her smile, too. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, smiling nonstop for the past two days, but it was impossible to quit. It was a wonder David hadn't clued in already. Even the dragging fatigue couldn't dim her joy.

  Snuggling further into the sofa pillows, she spun fantasies full of fun while the sunlight lazed across the floor in a slow-moving arc—family gatherings, shopping excursions, trips to the zoo.

  That was for later, though. For now, they had so much to do, so many changes to make. So many people to tell. They could take her famous banana muffins to the firehouse and announce it to everyone. David would strut like a peacock, she had no doubt. She laughed to herself, picturing the scene.

  Maybe Julie and Scott and Tony and his new girlfriend could come over for dinner next week, too, and she could start pumping Julie for tips.

  She yawned again. She'd have to make some lists. Plan a few menus. . .

  Drifting to sleep with a
smile still curving her lips, Gwen slid warmly into dreams. Strong arms came around her and held her tight. Safe and secure in the place she most wanted to be, always, nestled in her husband's embrace. Their dream-fingers entwined lazily, and their voices, though indistinct, rumbled in comfortable murmurs. David's deeper tones blended with her lighter ones, forming their own special, familiar music. She floated through the dream, cocooned in a cloud of soft contentment.

  The sirens woke her. She came out of the dream slowly, disoriented by the late nap, and sat up on the couch, pushing the heavy length of her hair out of her face. She felt fuzzy and gummy and a little nauseous.

  Padding to the kitchen for a glass of water, she stood at the sink, sipping slowly to rinse the cottony coating out of her mouth. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she swayed, grabbing the edge of the counter to right herself.

  "Whoa," she said. "That's new."

  Belly rolling uneasily, she made her way out to the deck for some fresh air. The lake was still as glass in the late-afternoon light, the only ripples flowing from a family of ducks passing by the end of their dock.

  Slow, deep breaths seemed to help her equilibrium. She stretched lightly, side to side, changing hands with the water glass as she moved.

  Sirens sounded again, drawing her eyes to the left and over the tops of the trees toward town.

  "Oh, no."

  Black smoke boiled into the sky in thick, curling clouds. Black and oily and heavy, smoke only a building fire could produce. It was hell smoke, shot through with deep red flames.

  And David—David was working.

  The back of her neck prickled and goose bumps shot across her skin, making her shiver. Sending a quick prayer heavenward for David and his fellow firefighters, she hoped they'd contain the blaze quickly, before any people or any more buildings were jeopardized.