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“Well, some—but mostly, see, easterners, northerners, talk funny.”
Another smile. Bigger this time.
“We do, huh?”
“And your eating habits …”
“Don’t tell me she had to learn to like grits!”
“Of course, but mostly … Remember me looking for cheese and hot dogs?”
“Uh-huh.”
It was a wary “uh-huh,” but she was smiling again, which was exactly what he’d wanted.
“Well, one very important thing Wilde brides have to do is learn to appreciate a couple of old family recipes.”
“Biscuits and yams?”
Caleb grinned.
“Fried cheese and fried hot dogs.”
“Oh, yuck!”
“Topped off by
charred marshmallows.”
“Caleb Wilde. This is a joke, right?”
“Old family recipes,” he said gravely “Wilde brothers’ recipes, anyway, from our misspent youth. Jake’s the sandwich guy. Travis is the hot-dog king. And I,” he said with great modesty, “am the marshmallow connoisseur.”
Sage began to laugh. He felt that laugh rocket through him, straight down to his toes, and he gathered her close and held her tightly to him.
“I promise,” he said softly. “We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” she whispered, her breath warm against his throat.”
“We will be. You’ll see.” He lifted her face to his and looked deep into her eyes. “Trust me, sweetheart. Okay?”
Sage hesitated. Trust him. Trust this man who had broken her heart, then put all the pieces of it together again …
“Sage? Will you trust me?”
She took a deep breath.
“Yes,” she whispered, and knew she had gone from opening her heart to giving it to him, with no restrictions.
He assured her they weren’t going to Dallas, then asked her to go into the bedroom and pack.
“It’s a surprise,” he said, when she started to ask him the reason. “Trust me, remember?”
Once the door shut after her, Caleb let out a long breath.
The truth was, he needed a couple of minutes alone.
She was scared. Hell, so was he.
