by Carrie Elks
“What?” I ask, trying to work out his expression.
“You're beautiful,” he says, his voice low. “Extremely annoying, but beautiful.”
“I'm not annoying.” I pout. “It's not my fault you have the reflexes of an old man.”
“I don't remember you calling me an old man last night when my face was between your thighs.”
Reddening, I look around to see if anybody heard him. “Hush.”
He presses his lips to my ear, his voice taking on a high tone as he attempts to mimic mine. “Oh Callum, right there, oh God,” he whispers. “Don't stop, please don't stop.”
“Shush!” I say it louder, my cheeks burning. “Somebody might hear.”
“That's what I told you last night, babe, but it didn't seem to worry you then.”
We climb into a cab, Callum loading our cases into the boot, and I lean forward, to give the driver Mum's address. We talked about booking a hotel instead—something impossibly expensive and boutique-like, knowing Callum—but in the end we decided to keep the peace by staying in Plaistow. The taxi pulls out, into the right hand lane, and we begin our slow journey across the city.
It's almost lunchtime when we arrive and I'm feeling sluggish and achy from the overnight journey. Without having to say anything, Callum tenderly massages my back, trying to loosen the stiffness that eight hours of travel has formed.
“You doing okay, babe?”
I give him an exhausted smile. “I'm fine.”
“Let's just get you home and I'll take you straight to bed.” He winks and I widen my eyes, trying to look affronted.
“Mum says we can't share a room because we're not married,” I tell him. “You're in Alex's old room.”
The look of horror on his face makes me giggle.
“What the hell? I'm not sleeping in a separate bloody room. We live together for God's sake, that's pretty much the same as being married.”
I bite my lip, holding back a laugh. “Tell that to my mum.”
She couldn't give a damn whether or not we share a bed, but I'm enjoying this too much to stop. “You won't get lonely, though, because the cats love Alex's bedroom.” I grin, glancing at the driver to make sure he's not listening. “You'll be surrounded by pussies.”
Callum chokes, and I can't hold the laughter in any more. I start to snigger even louder when the look of realisation washes over his face, and he frowns. “Amy,” he warns. “Don't mess with me, you might not like the result.”
On the contrary, I think. I love it when he gets all mad and alpha. Callum in a mood sends shivers down my spine.
“Try me,” I whisper, and his eyes darken, before he leans forward and kisses me hard.
* * *
A little later we're perched on the sofa at Mum's house, being crawled over by three cats and my nephew. Mum's keeping up a constant stream of conversation while we drink our tea. She tells us about Andie's trip to Australia, surprising me when she says that my big sister finally has a boyfriend, then lowers her voice to inform us that Lara is pregnant again.
I've absolutely no idea why she's whispering; at his tender years I don't think Max understands a word. Still, it's fantastic news and I can't help but grin when I think about having another nephew or niece.
That's the reason we're here, really. When Alex called to tell us they'd brought forward their renewal of vows, I didn't bother to ask why, but now I'm guessing it's so Lara can walk up the aisle, rather than waddle. They've decided to go the whole hog, with stag and hen parties tonight, and the ceremony tomorrow.
“Have you heard from your dad?” Mum asks. Though her tone is airy, her interested expression gives her away. I suspect she'll always hold a little torch for him—and he for her—even though there's been no repeat of the lounge incident.
“He sent me an email last week,” I tell her. “He’s good.”
Max trips over one of the cats, landing face first on the carpet, and immediately starts to cry. Callum reaches Max first, swinging him into his arms. Maxie buries his face in Callum’s broad shoulder, muffling his sobs in his shirt.
For a moment, I get a tiny glimpse into the future. Callum holding one of our babies, his huge hands rubbing their backs. It’s such a contrast, the big man and a tiny child, and I find myself longing for that day.
We haven’t talked about children yet. We’ve barely mentioned marriage, but we both know our future is together.
“Give him here.” Mum takes Max from Callum and carries him into the kitchen, whispering in his ear that he’s going to be all right. By the time she’s sat him on the counter his tears have stopped, replaced by a lisped request for a band-aid.
“I remember when a plaster solved everything,” Callum smiles. “Especially if it had the Mr Men on it.”
“Some things don’t change.” I step into his embrace. “You’ve always been a big baby.”
“Don’t think I didn’t see you staring,” he whispers, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear. “Did you like what you saw?”
I hide my smile in his chest. “I think you made my ovaries explode.”
A laugh rumbles in his throat. “That sounds painful.”
“Looking at you is always painful,” I lie. “But I consider it my duty.”
Leaning down, he presses his lips to mine. “In that case, consider this an obligation.”
He kisses me softly, and I find myself being very obliging indeed.
* * *
It’s almost midnight, and we end up in a nightclub near Soho, sitting in a cramped booth as the bass pumping out of the speakers makes the entire room vibrate. Beth is at the bar, getting a round in, while the rest of us are pinning condoms and party rings to the veil fixed on Lara’s head.
“I don’t get why I have to wear this,” Lara whines. “It’s not like I’m getting married. I’ve already done that.”
Beth arrives, sliding a tray of shots onto the sticky table. “You know why. Because Alex wants it to be traditional this time. Hen nights and church services and the whole shebang.”
Lara starts to reply, but her grumble is cut off as we make her do the first shot – a non-alcoholic one, of course. Holding her nose, she tips her head back, letting the syrupy green fluid flow into her mouth.
“That’s disgusting.” Screwing her nose up, she puts the glass back on the tray. “What the hell is that anyway?”
“Apple schnapps for us, and some disgusting alcohol-free concoction for you,” Beth replies, “On the house. Apparently hen nights are good for business.”
I see what she means when I look around the dance floor. Men outnumber women by a good percentage, and from the predatory looks some of them are shooting, it’s only a matter of time before they start offering to buy us drinks.
“Ugh,” Sally, one of Lara’s co-workers from the clinic, is the second to take a shot. “They’ll be disappointed when they find out we’re all taken.”
“When has that ever stopped them?” Lara mutters. “I told Alex this was a bad idea.”
While they start discussing the best way to fight off unwanted advances, I sneak a look at my phone. My heart races as soon as I see there’s a message from Callum.
Remind me again why I’m not allowed to come and see you?
I quickly tap out a reply. It’s tradition. The stags and hens should never meet.
Fuck tradition, I want to dance with my girl. Where are you?
I can almost hear the impatient brogue of his voice.
Not telling. ; p
Don’t try and hide from me, babe, you know I’ll always find you.
Smiling, I slide my phone back into my pocket and pick up one of the glasses to take a shot. I’ve hardly put it down before the first of many guys approaches the table, asking us what we’re doing here. It’s patently obvious that Lara has a wedding veil pinned with condoms on her head.
We’re not exactly on a nun’s night out.
By the time we’ve shaken our heads at the third hopeful guy, it�
�s clear we’re all feeling weary. We’re about to call a taxi when another man offers us a drink. Lara stiffens, and she’s about to launch into a diatribe when she realises who it is. Alex leans down and kisses her, before taking a condom off her veil and throwing it on the table.
“We won’t be needing those,” he says smugly.
“Why, are you shooting blanks now?” Niall, Beth’s husband, asks. We all start laughing at Alex’s horrified face, while he mutters something about having super sperm.
I stick my fingers in my ear. “La la la, I don’t want to hear this. You’re my brother, for heaven’s sake.”
When I look up, Callum is staring at me from the crowd of men. He’s wearing a sexy, knowing grin that makes my whole body light up inside. We may have been living together for the last nine months, but one look from him still sends my heart racing.
“Hi,” he mouths, his smile deepening.
“Hi,” I mouth back.
The next instant he’s walking over to where I’m sitting, pulling me out of the chair and onto my feet. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” he whispers in my ear.
I turn my head until my lips reach the corner of his jaw, and murmur, “Where would be the fun in that?”
Before I know it, he’s dragging me onto the dance floor, pulling my body tightly to his as he starts to move to the rhythm of the music. The bass is low and sultry, and Callum has enough skills for the both of us.
“You okay, babe?” he asks, his cheek pressed to mine.
“I am now.”
He puts his hand just above the swell of my bottom, leaning me backward as my hair cascades down my shoulders. “I missed you,” he says, dragging his lips down my neck.
“Missed you, too,” I gasp. “Did you have a good time?”
“Not really. We spent most of the night talking about you lot, and wondering how many guys were hitting on you. Eventually we decided to call it quits.”
“You were lucky, we were about to leave,” I tell him. “How did you know where to find us, anyway?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I’ve been tracking your phone by GPS.”
“What the hell?” Why would he do that? The invasion of privacy riles me.
He shrugs. “It’s just a precaution. I barely use it.”
“You can’t do that!” I start to yell, and he steps back, surprised. I’m considering whether to slap him or stomp away when he starts to laugh.
“Your face is a picture.” He grins, making him more impossibly handsome than ever. “As if I’d track you. I’m not a stalker.”
I punch him lightly on the shoulder. “No, you’re an arsehole.”
“It was payback for the trick you played on me earlier. The one about the bedrooms,” he says. “Except this was so much better.”
“Says you,” I mutter, already planning my revenge. “And for that, you’re definitely sleeping in Alex’s room.”
* * *
The following day we’re standing in the churchyard, waiting for Alex and Lara to emerge onto the stairs. Though the rain has gone, the cotton wool clouds remain, stubbornly hiding the sun with a greyish lemon glow. Max is running around the graveyard while Allegra—Niall and Beth’s adopted daughter—picks up her skirt and chases him, leading to loud giggles as he gives her the slip.
I turn to Callum, who’s standing next to me, his hands stuffed awkwardly in the pockets of his suit trousers.
“Are you okay?”
It’s as if he hasn’t heard me. He stares at the church, a strange expression on his face, and I start to worry that I’ve done something wrong.
“Callum?”
This time he acknowledges my voice, but the frown on his face remains. I smooth the lines that have formed between his eyebrows, and he grabs my wrist and kisses it softly.
“You okay?” I ask again, this time quietly. He hesitates for a moment, still staring at me.
“I’m better than okay,” he says, glancing at the church again. “Do you think they’ll come out soon?”
I still don’t understand his edginess, but I nod anyway. “They’re just having a couple of photos taken. We won’t have to wait long, I promise.”
“I don’t mind about that,” he tells me. “There’s just something I wanted to do.”
Before I get to ask what, Alex and Lara emerge from the church, looking like rock and roll royalty as they walk down the stairs. My brother is wearing a tight-fitting grey suit with a skinny black tie, while Lara is resplendent in a cream lace dress.
The next twenty minutes are filled with more photographs. We’re herded into a variety of formations, and I notice Callum getting increasingly agitated. He’s not usually this nervous, and I’m starting to wonder if he dislikes my family.
My suspicions are only heightened when I see Alex catch Callum’s eye, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. Callum shakes his head slowly, as if telling him to back off, causing the nagging worry in my gut to grow.
“Is everything alright with you and Alex?” I whisper as we get in line for the big family photo.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He sounds almost suspicious.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “He just looked at you strangely.”
“Babe, there’s nothing to fret about. He didn’t look at me funny, he barely looked at me at all. He’s too busy posing for photographs.”
I say nothing, but stay on high alert, trying to catch them squaring up to each other again. The thought of the two men in my life not liking each other isn’t something I’ve ever considered.
“What happened last night?” I whisper between photographs. My cheeks are starting to ache from too many fake smiles.
“What do you mean?”
“Between you and Alex. Did you have words?”
He cups my face with his hands, dragging his thumbs across my cheekbones. “Babe, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m not looking at your brother weirdly; I’ve not had words with him. You’re seeing something that’s not there.”
“If you say so,” I huff, determined to corner them both later. I’ll make them friends even if I have to force them to talk.
When the photographs are all taken, people start to head back to their cars, making their way to Hoxton Square where Alex has hired a bar for the afternoon celebration. Instead of calling a taxi, Callum grabs my hand, and pulls me over to a pretty corner of the churchyard where roses are growing against a dry stone wall.
My brows dip as I try to work out what’s going on, and brace myself for his confession. Instead he smiles, and my almost-petrified heart starts to beat again.
“I did talk to your brother last night,” he says. “But only to ask him a question.”
“What question?”
“I know it’s old fashioned, but I’m a traditional kind of guy. I wanted his blessing before I asked you to marry me.”
Everything stops. My pulse seems to slow, the blood hardly moving in my veins. All I can hear is the rustling of the leaves as the light wind lifts them in her dance.
“What?” It’s all I can say. I’m dumbstruck.
“I know you’re still young, and we don’t have to get married for a while. But I’d be the happiest man in the world if you’d agree to be my wife.” He slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small, black box. When he lifts the lid, there’s a gorgeous pear-cut solitaire nestled in a velvet cushion, the diamond catching a glint from the sun. “If you don’t like it we can exchange it,” he says. “That’s if you agree to wear it at all.”
I realise I haven’t answered. The tears stinging at my eyes spill over, coursing down my cheeks, but the biggest grin forms on my lips. “Of course I’ll wear it,” I tell him. “It’s beautiful.”
“Like you,” he whispers, sliding the ring onto my finger. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
He drops down to one knee, bringing me with him until I’m sitting on his thigh, our faces inches apart. He wipes the tears from my cheeks, and then holds me c
loser, until our mouths are touching.
“Amy Ferguson,” he whispers. “It sounds good.”
“Callum Cartwright,” I reply. “That’s not so good.”
“Ferguson-Cartwright?”.
“Cartwright-Ferguson?” I retort. “It’s classier.”
He kisses me firmly, his warm lips moving against mine as his hands cup my neck, thumbs brushing my skin.
“I don’t care what you call me,” I say breathlessly, the moment we pull away. “As long as you keep doing that.”
His smile is almost as broad as his accent. “Miss Cartwright, I think you’ve found the one thing we agree on.”
THE END
LETTER FROM CARRIE
Thank you so much for reading Canada Square. I hope you enjoyed following Amy and Callum’s journey as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Scoliosis is a condition which I know a bit about, as my daughter was diagnosed with it at the age of 15. Unlike Amy, my daughter underwent spinal fusion surgery to straighten her back, and I’m pleased to say she is now doing very well. For more information on Scoliosis, The Scoliosis Association and the National Scoliosis Foundation are good places to start.
If you enjoyed this book, I’d be so grateful if you could write a review. These are lifelines for independent authors, and can help readers find the right book for them.
If you are interested in future releases, or would like to know when I am running a sale, please sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/GdS8j
Carrie xx
ALSO BY CARRIE ELKS
Coming Down (Love in London #1)
Broken Chords (Love in London #2)
Fix You
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ALSO IN THE LOVE IN LONDON SERIES
Coming Down (Niall and Beth’s Story)
