Owen’s face brightens. “Sweet. I need to tell your dad thanks. But first, I gotta go grab something to eat.” Without another word, he takes off, making his way toward one of the waiters walking around with a silver tray laden with appetizers. Owen is wearing black pants that we just had to buy him since he won’t stop growing and a white button-down shirt. He borrowed one of my ties and his hair is semi-tame for once. Trying to be a grownup but sort of failing at it.
My heart expands and I breathe deep, ignoring the little twist in my chest. I feel responsible for that kid, like he’s my own brother. I love him. Almost as much as I love his sister.
“We need to watch him,” Fable mumbles, shaking her head as she keeps her gaze glued to his retreating back. “He’ll probably try and snag glasses of champagne when we’re not looking in the hopes he can get drunk.”
No harm done in a little sneak of champagne, I want to tell her, but who am I to advocate drinking to her underage brother? Hell, look at their mother. She’s a drunken, drug-taking bitch who tried to convince Owen to run away with her a few months before we were married. And Owen almost went with her—he wasn’t going to tell us she contacted him until he got nervous and confessed all to his sister. Fable had been furious.
And also scared shitless.
“Don’t worry about Owen. I’ll watch him.” I pull Fable into me and she tilts her face up so I can drop a light kiss on her pursed lips. “You relax and try to have a good time.”
“Right.” She leans her head back the slightest bit so I can drink from her lips yet again. Yeah, need to get myself under control here. This isn’t the time or the place. “This house and these people intimidate the crap out of me, Drew. How am I supposed to act? What am I supposed to say?”
“Just be yourself,” I say, squeezing her shoulders.
She rolls her eyes. “Your dad doesn’t much like me, so that’s going to be kind of hard.”
I remain quiet, snatching a glass of champagne from the server walking by. She pauses, allowing me to grab another one for Fable, and I hand it to her, clinking the edge of the glass with mine before I take a drink. “Cheers, wife,” I murmur, giving her a little smile.
Fable returns it, then drains her champagne in one long swallow, a sure sign she’s nervous. “Why is there a wedding cake in the corner?” she blurts.
I burst out laughing. “I don’t know. Why is there a deejay? Are we going to dance later?”
“Now that I would like to see,” she says wryly, setting the empty champagne glass on a nearby table. “You’ve never been one to dance much, Drew.”
“I don’t really ever dance,” I say simply because it’s the truth. I may have coordination out on the football field, but I’m not a big fan of showing off my moves on the dance floor. As if I have any moves, which I don’t.
“So, what do you think? Like your reception?”
Fable and I turn to find Dad standing before us, drink in hand, a giant smile on his face. He’s dressed in his usual suit with a button-down shirt, no tie, his tanned face not from a spray bottle but from too much time out on the golf course. He looks relaxed and happy … and older than I’ve ever seen him, with the wrinkles lining his face and the gray streaked liberally in his dark hair.
“It’s beautiful. You’ve outdone yourself,” Fable says earnestly, flicking a quick glance in my direction before she turns a full-wattage smile on Dad. “Thank you so much, Mr. Callahan.”
“Fable, you’re a part of the family now, so please call me Andy.” He pulls Fable right from my grip and hauls her into a giant bear hug, wrapping his arms around her tight and giving her a long squeeze. “You brought my boy back to me, you know. I owe you everything.”
My heart stutters in my chest. I’ve never heard Dad say anything like that before, especially to Fable. We usually skirt the issues rather than face them head on.
Right now, though, we’re facing them. Acknowledging them. And I like it.
“Thank you … Andy.” She withdraws from his embrace and smiles up at him, her eyes glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. “Thank you for this party, for inviting everyone, and for including my brother in it all.”
“Owen is a part of our family now, too. Trust me, we need as many members as we can get.” He laughs, but the sound is painful. I feel it down to my bones, but I wouldn’t change what happened for anything.
Though I still regret the loss of my mother, and of my sister, I will never, ever regret Adele’s death. The woman got what was coming to her. I just hate how it affected Dad.
“The cake.” Fable gestures toward it, trying to change the subject, which I appreciate. “It’s so big. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
Ah crap, I hope Dad doesn’t take that remark as an insult. A few years ago, he would have. He would have thought it was a slam against his judgment.
But no, he’s laughing, making Fable laugh with him. “It better be. I ordered it from the best bakery in all of the Carmel Valley. And I paid top dollar for it, too.”
“I can’t wait.” Her smile grows. “I’ve always had a thing for cake. I have a major sweet tooth.”
Me, too. More than anything, I’m addicted to the sweetness that is my wife.
Fable
My husband keeps shooting me these looks that tell me he’s feeling overly sentimental. Drew gets a little dreamy-eyed when he feels that way. And there’s a dopey smile curving his lips that makes him look as cute as can be. He’s so handsome, with all that dark hair tumbling across his forehead, his blue eyes flashing at me. The angular cheekbones, the lush mouth, the firm line of his jaw …
I’m weak-kneed just looking at him. Still. That he has the power to make me feel this way is overwhelming. I’d much rather focus on my love for Drew than deal with the uneasy sensation that slipped over me the moment we first saw that glimpse of the ocean. As we drove south on Highway One, past the Monterey exits, my heart started to race and my palms began to sweat.
All those tough, ugly feelings swarmed back to the surface, making me itchy. I thought I could handle this, coming back here. I thought everything would be all right because I knew she was gone and those old ghosts that had haunted Drew for so long had slowly evaporated over time. He fought hard to conquer his demons. I stood beside him, cheering him on the entire time.
But maybe since I’d spent so much time focused on his demons, I never realized I had my own. Being back in the Monterey Bay area, I feel small. Like I’m nothing. I’ve reverted back to that tough, poor, slutty girl again, pretending to be in love with a gorgeous, perfect guy all for a lump sum of money that will temporarily take care of me and my brother.
Drew could sense I was feeling that way, too. I think my nervousness became this living, breathing thing that seeped from my body and into his. Owen was oblivious, sitting in the backseat with his earbuds in, the music so loud I could still hear it, tinny and bass-heavy. Drew had looked over at me and reached out across the console to take my hand and bring it to his mouth, pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to my knuckles.
“I love you,” he’d whispered, his gaze flickering to mine before he returned it to the road stretched out before us. “Don’t ever forget it.”
Just like that, the knots in my stomach slowly unwound and my breathing eased. “I hate this place,” I whispered in return.
“Why?” He let go of my hand and turned his attention more firmly to the road, hitting the blinker and slowing down as he pulled off on the upcoming exit. “It’s where we fell in love.”
The realization had stunned me. He’s right. We had fallen in love here. It may have been scary and ugly and heartbreaking, but our week in Carmel had also been sweet and hopeful and full of wonder. I’d never felt anything like what I experienced with Drew with any other boy.
And that little conversation, Drew’s simple words, fueled me for the rest of the trip. Out here on his father’s back patio, the fairy lights wound in the trees twinkling above, the sliver of a pale white moon watchi
ng over us, the music loud and the chattering voices even louder, I’m content. Comfortable. Holding my own. Feeling like I belong here.
“We should check out Ocean Avenue tomorrow,” Drew whispers close to my ear, amusement tingeing his deep voice.
“What? Are you serious?” Even though I’ve come to terms with being here, it doesn’t mean I want to linger and make it a serious vacation. Besides, Drew needs to get back home so he can resume practice.
“Well yeah, remember the spot where we kissed?” His eyes are warm as they search my face, filled with so much love I feel my heart swell.
“Yes,” I whisper achingly. “Of course I remember.”
“I want to go back there.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his index finger lingering on my skin. “I want to kiss you again in that little alley and remember how wet we were from the rain. How nervous I was. I was scared you might reject me.”
I’d felt the same way. We’d dealt with much of the same feelings and fears and hadn’t even known it.
“I want to take you to that store where you got the dress that just about killed me and buy you whatever you want,” he continues, his fingers drifting across my jaw. My eyes flutter closed as memories rush back at me. “I want to sit outside the dressing room and have you come out to show me every single thing you’re trying on.”
That he remembers all the little details sends a thrill of pleasure spiraling to the very depths of my soul.
“And then I want to wander off for a bit and let you do whatever you want, secretly hoping that you’ll send me a text that says ‘marshmallow.’ Though if you don’t, that’s okay, because I’ll send you one instead.” He offers up a crooked smile and the sight of it cracks my heart wide open, overflowing with so much pure love for him I want to cry. “Because we made a deal. Whenever we see or hear that word, the other comes running. I’ll always be the one to rescue you, Fable. You never have to worry about that.”
“Drew.” My voice cracks and then I’m in his arms, my face pressed to his neck, his lips on my cheek. He’s whispering words of love and devotion but I don’t really hear them. I can only feel. His soft hair tickling my cheek, his hands smoothing up and down my back, his warmth radiating into me. He’s solid and real, the sound of his heart beating steady and strong against my ear, and I slowly pull away from him. “When can we leave?”
He starts to laugh, the sound rich and full of honest humor. “We can’t leave yet. We’ve only been here maybe an hour.”
“Isn’t that enough time?” I ask hopefully.
“Fable, we’re staying here. We can’t just bail on our party and go upstairs.” His laughter dies, his expression gone serious. “Everyone will know what we’re doing.”
“What? Having sex? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” I stare at him wide-eyed and he slowly shakes his head. “We’re newlyweds, Drew. We’re still on our honeymoon.”
“No, we’re not.” He glances around, making sure no one is standing close to us, I’m sure. Heaven forbid anyone hear us talk about sex. “Come on, Fable.”
“Ha, you’re so cute.” I hook my arm through his and snuggle close, breathing deep his warm, spicy scent. “Saying all sorts of romantic words to me, filling my head with sweet memories, and then you go all shy on me. Afraid you might offend your dad?”
“We’re surrounded by people. They’re all here for us,” he murmurs, his lips barely moving. How does he do that? It’s a pretty slick trick.
“They’re not here for us; they’re here for your dad.” I wave a hand, dismissing his words. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“What about Owen?”
“He’s sitting at that table with your dad’s new girlfriend.” Her name is Tami and she’s sweet as can be. Nothing like that other woman, who shall not be named. “She’s making sure he’s well fed.” Tami is rather motherly toward him, and not in a creepy way, either. I think there’s something about Owen that screams lost little orphan boy with a shitty mother or something. He seems to bring that out in every woman he meets.
“I thought you wanted cake?” He’s searching for every excuse to stay out here and it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Hey.” I grab hold of him by one of the belt loops on his trousers, pulling him into me so close our hips almost collide. “Let’s sneak inside for a quickie and then we can come back out, and hopefully the cake will be ready by then.”
“Don’t you think they’ll want us to cut it?”
I roll my eyes. I know I’m pushing and probably making him uncomfortable since we’re on his dad’s turf, but I don’t really care. I like pushing him, just as much as he likes pushing me. Sometimes we need that extra push even when we don’t realize it. “We aren’t going for all that traditional-type reception stuff, are we? I didn’t wear a baby-blue garter under my dress, you know.”
His brows lift, his mouth quirked in a crooked smile. Now that remark caught his interest. What a surprise. “What do you have on under that dress?”
My skin warms at his blatant perusal, the way his eyes seem to touch upon me as they rake over my body. I can feel him, as if he just physically touched me. A shiver shakes through me and I tighten my finger around his belt loop, tugging him so close our hips do collide this time. “Maybe you should come inside with me so you can find out?”
That’s all it takes. He follows behind, crowding me, his hand at my lower back, fingers trailing down over my backside, getting lost in the folds of my skirt. The dress is all white lace, sleeveless and short, with a flared skirt that hits just above the knee and a wide swath of black satin ribbon as a belt tight around my waist. It’s pretty and feminine, and I can’t wait for Drew to take it off and discover I have no panties on beneath it.
Absolutely can’t. Wait.
Later that night, long after Drew went to sleep, I find myself tossing and turning beside him, too restless with the memories running through my brain. I finally crawl out of bed, grab my phone, and head out onto the tiny balcony that is adjacent to the guest room we’re staying in. Despite my restless brain, my limbs are loose and warm, my body well used by my husband. After the quickie in the bathroom, we’d come back outside to find the cake being served and I ate the biggest piece I could find.
It tasted delicious, the secret smiles Drew and I shared as we were surrounded by dozens of strangers making my head light and my heart sing.
After the party, we officially went to bed, where my husband made love to me for hours.
Now I huddle outside, the cool, gentle sea breeze sending my hair everywhere and making me shiver since I’m only wearing a thin nightgown. I look at my phone and find a text message from Drew. I have no idea when he could have sent this to me. I thought I’d been with him the entire evening. But a sweet poem was delivered to me one line at a time:
My beautiful wife, I will
Always love you
Respect you. You’re …
Sweet and sexy
Hot and tempting
My love for you is
All consuming
Lucky me to have found
Love
Only
With you
The tears fall silently, one after another, sliding down my cheeks, dripping from my jaw to land on the ground. But these aren’t tears of sadness, they’re happy. I’ve come full circle. I remember the last time he left me a letter like this, when I didn’t see the hidden message at first. When I’d been so overcome with desolation and loneliness. That letter had given me hope and though he’d let me down at first, he’d eventually come back into my life the way he was meant to.
Now, we belong to each other. And though he’s busy and consumed with his new career, nervous over it, starting a new life with me, and fully reconciling with his father, he still takes the time to write me a sweet little poem that lets me know exactly how he feels.
He’s still in need of the occasional rescue. And I’m the only one who can really save him.
Chapter F
ive
Fable
“You miss him.”
I shrug, ignoring Owen’s statement. He certainly didn’t word it as a question, because he knows the truth. He knows how I feel.
“Yeah, I do, but it’s okay.” I smile brightly and reach over, tousling Owen’s hair. It’s getting darker as he gets older and there’s golden stubble lining his jaw, which blows my mind every time I see it. He looks one-third boy, two-thirds man, and I both love to see him grow older and despise that he’s not a little boy anymore.
Little boys aren’t as big of a problem. Not that Owen is a troublemaker … not really. Well, okay, he is a little bit. He’s definitely a challenge. Does well at school when he applies himself, which he doesn’t do enough, and that drives me crazy.
He works hard at his part-time job, and he loves playing football just like Drew. But he gets into trouble more often than he should. He’s been caught smoking weed a few times, and I’ve found baggies of the stuff in his jeans when I do his laundry. He was nearly thrown off the football team for his smoking. He’s snuck out of the house so he could go to a party or whatever with his friends. He has too many girlfriends, girls I’m afraid he uses and then discards, and that hurts me. I want him to respect women, but he and his best friend, Wade, both have a shitty attitude when it comes to dating and relationships. And while I like Wade, more often than not they’re looking for trouble together.
But my brother idolizes my husband, which is great. Drew is a positive role model for Owen, and Owen’s the younger brother Drew never had and probably needed. They’re a good support system for each other. I know Owen not so secretly wants to be just like Drew when he’s older.
If you’d told Drew this a few years ago, he would have laughed. Uncontrollably. Why would anyone want to be like him?
He still has no idea just how influential he can be.
“We still on for this weekend, then?” At his question, I meet Owen’s gaze and see he’s grinning from ear to ear. “My friends are so fucking jealous I’m going.”