by Sydney Logan
“That dress? The one she was wearing—”
“That day in the bridal shop. Yes. I want it. Can you get it?”
Lynsey narrows her eyes. Clearly, I’ve offended her, doubting her abilities. She’s glaring at me like I just spit on the flag.
“Get the dress. Plan the wedding. Don’t breathe a word of this to Skye. Let me know when it’s ready.”
“I can do that, but . . . Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, propose first?”
Propose. Right.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s the rush?”
“Luisa Martinez is days away from leaving this world behind, but she is surrounded by love, just as she should be. Life is fleeting, but love is forever. I’m in love with the woman of my dreams, and by some miracle she loves me, too. I’ve made her wait long enough. I shouldn’t have made her wait at all. Who knows how many breaths we have left to take? We should cherish every single one of them. And when someone takes your breath away, you shouldn’t spend one second without them if you don’t have to. And I don’t have to anymore.”
Lynsey bursts into tears just as Skye rounds the corner.
“What the—” She glances between me and her best friend. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
I reach for her hand and pull her close. Lynsey babbles something about loving weddings before making a hasty exit.
“She never cries at weddings,” Skye says with a smile as she melts against me. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I just wanted to see you in action. Very impressive how you handled that bride’s meltdown.”
“You saw that?” She laughs lightly. “They always cry. Nerves just get the best of them. They need to be reminded how much they’re loved.”
“You’re loved,” I murmur against her temple. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
I kiss her softly.
“I better get to the reception. Do you want to crash the party? It’s next door in the banquet hall.”
“Tempting. Will you dance with me?”
With a smile, Skye pulls me by the hand and leads me toward the festivities. We can already hear the music echoing in the air.
“Hmm. I did promise the ring bearer I’d meet him on the dance floor, but maybe I can convince him to share.”
“You’re evil, Caleb Lynch.”
Caleb waves the fork in front of my mouth, teasing me with the last bite of raspberry cake we stole from the reception. I don’t know why, but once the wedding guests hit the dance floor, Lynsey insisted that she and the girls could handle the rest of the party and that Caleb should take me home. I didn’t ask any questions. I’m thrilled to be out of my heels and at home on the couch with the man I love.
“How bad do you want it?” he murmurs suggestively, making my breath hitch.
Thankfully, I have a few tricks of my own.
“You have no idea how much I want it.”
His blue eyes darken. With a smirk, I take advantage of his momentary bewilderment by reaching for his hand and bringing the fork closer to my lips. I wrap my lips around it and moan softly as the raspberry cream hits my tongue.
“Delicious.”
Caleb blinks rapidly. “Well played.”
The sexual tension is really becoming a problem. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that we’re sleeping in the same bed each night. We should probably stop doing that. We’re just tempting fate. But when it’s the very best part of your day—and night—why deprive yourself of such happiness? Especially when the rest of your day is such shit?
And it is. It’s awful.
I’m strong and resolute when we’re together. In my heart, I know we’re doing the right thing. It’s when we’re apart that I find myself struggling with my decision. Lately, I’ve even had to excuse myself from consultations because I just cannot deal with one more wedding detail. My heart beats so fast I’m sure it’s going to explode, but the feeling passes just as quickly as it appears. Mr. Google says it’s anxiety. Lynsey thinks it’s full-on panic attacks. I haven’t told Caleb. It’d just give him more incentive to put an end to the charade.
“Skye, we need to talk,” he says suddenly.
“Okay . . .”
“And I want you to promise not to throw a fit.”
“A fit?”
He nods.
“I’ve never thrown a fit in my entire life.”
“I seem to recall an epic fit when you found out I was engaged.”
Caleb laces his finger with mine. I try to concentrate on the warmth of his hand instead of the painful reminder that he’s marrying another woman.
“Why are we talking about that?” I whisper, tears swimming in my eyes. We’ve had such a wonderful night. Why is he ruining it?
With a sigh, Caleb lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it softly.
“We’re talking about it because it’s over, Skye. The wedding’s off. For good.”
It’s everything I want to hear . . . and everything I don’t.
“Caleb, I—”
“No, Skye. Even if we wanted to go through with it, the doctor says it’s pointless. Her condition has worsened, much quicker than expected. Luisa won’t live long enough to see the wedding.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks. How terrible for Juliana and her family.
“I’m so sorry, Caleb. I know how much you love her.”
“I do. And I feel guilty because we wasted time scheming and planning when what we should’ve been doing was spending time with her.”
We hold each other close as I absorb the news.
“Skye, there’s more. She lied to us.”
“Who lied?”
“Luisa. That day in the hospital? She remembered our conversation. She remembered the wedding was a hoax.”
My eyes widen. Lynsey was right.
“Why would she lie about that?”
“I guess she hoped we’d still go through with it. She wanted to know her daughter would be taken care of. It was wrong of her, of course, but I couldn’t be upset. We’d lied to her for months. But everything’s out in the open now. This afternoon, we had a long talk. Made our apologies. Said our goodbyes. Juliana was planning to introduce Deacon to the family today. It’s over, Skye. And I’m all yours, if you want me.”
My head spins. “You’re not getting married.”
“Not to her.”
“You’re free. You’re really, truly free.”
“I’m not free,” he says softly, lifting my hand and pressing a kiss against my palm. “I haven’t been free since the moment I met you.”
Caleb’s eyes burn with sincerity and love, and it’s all I can do not to jump in his lap and kiss him senseless. Before I even get the chance, he stands up and walks over to where my vinyl collection lines the far wall. Caleb picks an album and places it on the turntable. I smile when I hear the first bars of Heaven by Bryan Adams stream through the speakers.
“That’s my favorite.”
“I had a feeling,” he says, walking toward the couch and offering me his hand. “I believe you owe me a dance.”
Caleb pulls me into his arms, and I rest my head against his chest as we sway to the music. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I can’t resist looking up into his bright blue eyes.
“You look so happy.”
“How could I not be?” he says softly. “Look at you. Look at us. There’s absolutely nothing standing in our way now.”
Caleb gently cups my cheeks and presses his forehead to mine, and we dance like that through the rest of the album. Even when the sweet ballads shift into rock songs, our bodies keep their slow, steady rhythm. We’re not even paying attention to the music. All I can focus on is his handsome face and his fiery eyes as they gaze into mine.
When the music finally fades, I take him by the hand and lead him to my bedroom. Without a word between us, Caleb reaches for the zipper of my
dress. One small tug and it’s gone, falling and pooling at my feet. His heated gaze roams my body as I unbutton his shirt. Desperate to touch him, I let my hands trail along his chest, and I’m rewarded with a shuddering gasp when my finger finds the zipper of his jeans.
We’ve slept in the same bed for weeks, but this is the first time we’ve allowed ourselves this . . . to touch so freely and tenderly, without the imaginary walls we built between us. That I built between us, all because I wanted to do the right thing. I don’t know why it was so important to me. Maybe I wanted this to be the one moment of our relationship that wasn’t tainted by all the devious lies and good intentions. Maybe I wanted this night to be the one true thing.
No lies. No schemes. Just us.
Caleb lays me down on the bed, and his lips find mine . . . a gentle, soft kiss that grows deeper and hungrier as our hands explore every inch of flesh we can find in the dark. His mouth travels down my body, trailing kisses down my stomach and along each thigh, causing me to writhe uncontrollably and whimper his name. His scorching kisses blaze a trail along my skin until I feel his breath against my ear.
“I love you,” he whispers roughly.
“I love you, too.”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I draw him closer and arch my hips, causing us both to gasp as our bodies align. Unable to keep our eyes off each other, he presses his forehead to mine, and with trembling breaths, we start to move.
In life, we often anticipate something so much that, when it finally happens, we’re left feeling disappointed. Our imaginations run wild, making it impossible for the reality to come close to the fantasy.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this.
Every hungry kiss and breathless whisper shatters the sorrow that’s consumed us for months. All the secrets and lies are magically erased, leaving behind a blank page for us to write a new song, one that’s filled with hope and truth and love.
And we start writing it tonight.
We’ve nearly drifted off to sleep when Caleb whispers in my ear.
“Do you believe in soulmates?”
I smile sleepily. “Hmm. Sex makes you sappy. Good to know.”
“Seriously. Do you?”
I turn around in his arms. Thanks to the light of the moon shining through the window, I can see his blue eyes gazing down at me.
“I’ve planned a lot of weddings for soulmates whose marriages didn’t make it past the honeymoon.”
“So that’s a no.”
“It’s not a no. I just think it’s rare.”
Caleb lifts my hand to his lips. “I think we’re rare.”
“I think we are, too.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
I hear his breath hitch, and he closes his eyes.
“Say that again,” he whispers.
“I do?”
His expression is unreadable, but his eyes shine with nothing but love for me.
“I do.”
His lips find mine, and suddenly, I’m wide awake. A soft moan resonates from his throat as I crawl over him, pushing him onto his back and straddling his waist.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Just making up for lost time.”
Caleb grabs my hips just as the doorbell rings, making us both jump.
“Don’t you dare move from this spot,” he says, holding me tight.
I glance at the bedside clock. Who’s at my door at midnight?
The doorbell rings again, and Caleb groans.
“It could be important. Get dressed.”
He mutters a curse as I climb out of bed and grab my robe. I rush to the living room and check the peep hole. All I see is a mop of brown hair and a guitar case.
Eli?
With trembling fingers, I quickly turn the locks and open the door. My nephew’s standing there, with a backpack in one hand and his guitar in the other. He looks cold, wet, and pissed.
“Eli, what—”
“I’m moving in with you.”
Too stunned to formulate a response, I step aside as the kid walks into my apartment and heads straight to his bedroom.
“That’s so cool!” Eli says. “Can I try?”
Thank God for Caleb. He can distract the kid with awesome guitar riffs while I pace my kitchen and try, unsuccessfully, to reach my idiot brother and his crazy ex-wife on the phone. Both numbers go straight to voice mail, where I’m more than happy to unleash my fury—repeatedly—because I’m so pissed I can’t see straight.
Luckily, Eli doesn’t seem too scarred by tonight’s events.
Too bad the same can’t be said for his aunt.
As if a ten-year-old hailing a cab at midnight in the pouring rain isn’t enough to cause a coronary, I had the added bonus of hearing that his parents were too busy screwing like rabbits to even notice he packed a bag and hit the road.
Those were his exact words—screwing like rabbits.
I cannot deal.
How does he even know that phrase? Or what it means?
When I asked my sweet innocent nephew where he’d heard it, he just rolled his eyes and went back to playing his guitar. Noting my absolute shock and horror, Caleb cleverly took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. After pouring me a very large glass of wine, he then handed me my cell and kissed my cheek before heading back to the living room. I can’t even get excited that Eli’s in my apartment right now, learning the opening riff to a Bon Jovi song. I’m too busy plotting just how violent my brother’s beating is going to be.
Suddenly, the screeching guitar morphs into something soft, and that’s when I hear them talking.
“So, Eli, why did you really run away?”
My heart swells, and I sit down at the kitchen table and listen as Eli spills his guts to the most positive male role model in his life.
“Grown-ups are weird. I mean, you’re not weird. You’re cool. But my mom and dad are seriously screwed up.”
I can’t argue with him, but I keep my comments to myself. Now that I’m a little calmer, I could go back into the living room, but I stay rooted to my seat, allowing them the illusion of privacy. I have a feeling Eli won’t be as willing to talk if I’m around.
“You ran away because they’re weird?”
I hear Eli sigh. “I had my headset on playing Call of Duty. Then I got killed by some asshole in Canada and decided to just go to bed. That’s when I heard them.”
My ears are bleeding. When the hell did my nephew get such a filthy mouth?
Hmm, maybe he gets it from me.
“Heard what?” Caleb asks.
“Like this thumping against the wall. Then Dad screamed Mom’s name and Mom screamed Dad’s name . . .”
It’s official. I’m going to have a heart attack.
Caleb, however, is a pro. So calm and patient. “What happened when the . . . thumping stopped?”
“They started fighting, like they always do. I’m sick of it, Caleb. I’m sick of the fighting. I’m sick of the making up. Can I live here with you guys?”
“Well, I don’t technically live here.”
Eli snorts. “Whatever. I’ll be good. I’ll do my homework and practice guitar and keep my room clean. Please?”
Caleb doesn’t say anything, and I know that’s my cue. Taking a deep breath, I make my way back to the living room. They both watch me warily as I sit down on the sofa. I turn to my nephew.
“First of all, taking a cab across town at midnight was very dangerous. It scares me that you did that. I want you to promise that you’ll never, ever do it again. If you need to go somewhere, you call me. Got it?”
Eli fidgets in his seat. “Okay.”
“And yes, of course you can stay here tonight. You don’t have much of a choice, considering I can’t reach either of your parents.”
“What about tomorrow night?” he asks hopefully.
“We’ll worry about that in the morning. It’s late. Go get ready for bed.”
With a nod
, Eli stands up and starts to walk to his room. He suddenly stops and turns around, and before I can blink, his arms are wrapped around my neck.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Aunt Skye. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t. I just love you. I’d die if anything happened to you.”
“I’d die if anything happened to you, too,” he whispers against my ear.
I blink back my tears and squeeze him tight. He used to hug me like this all the time. I had no idea how much I missed it until right now.
“And, Eli? You’ve got to watch your mouth because my heart can’t take it.”
“Got it.”
He grins and kisses me on the cheek before bolting toward his room.
Exhaling a noisy sigh, I lean back on the couch. Caleb slides next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“You were very good with him, Skye.”
“So were you. I bet your students love you.”
“My students are a little older, but they’re still kids. It doesn’t matter if they’re six or sixteen. They all have problems.” Caleb pulls me close and kisses my temple. “It’s late. Can I stay? Or should I go to the apartment tonight?”
“Why would you do that?”
He shrugs. “Eli’s going to start asking questions if I keep sleeping over. I don’t want things to be awkward for any of us.”
I snort. “How could it be awkward? The kid’s parents have already traumatized him. Screwing like rabbits? How does he even know what that means?”
“That’s really bothering you, isn’t it?”
“He’s ten! Did you know what that meant when you were ten years old?”
“No, but I’m not surprised he does. I’m constantly amazed by the things my high school kids say. I know it makes me sound like some old geezer, but kids really do grow up a lot faster these days.”
“I don’t like it.”
Caleb grins. “I know, but he’s a good kid.”
“A good kid with crazy-ass parents.”
“And you.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “And you. You’re so patient, Caleb. I’m so glad you’re in his life. Lord knows he needs a positive male role model because my brother—”
