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“Oh. That’s romantic. So, was it love at first sight?”
“Yes,” he mumbled. “Or that’s what my mom said anyway.”
“For someone who knows how to be extremely romantic, you’re being awfully cynical.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve been with who would consider me romantic. I have a reputation for being a cold lover,” he admitted.
I didn’t like to think of him with other women in that way, but . . . “I have never felt more wanted and cherished than when I was with you.”
“You are the only woman I have ever cherished. I know that makes me sound like a cad, but it’s true. I hope to teach our son to be a better man than me.”
“Drake, you are a good man. But yes, let’s teach our son to give more than he receives and never take anything that doesn’t belong to him. And to only be with women he loves and values. You know, like when he’s thirty-five.”
Drake laughed. “I don’t think you’ll be so lucky. But”—his tone turned more serious—“I know how lucky I am.”
I got a bit choked up while my heart pitter-pattered. “See, totally romantic.”
“Plan on a lifetime of romance.”
“Really?” my voice hitched.
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you’ll call your dad?”
He paused, and paused, and paused some more. “Okay, Charlotte,” he breathed out. “You are the most infuriating woman I know.”
I smiled to myself. “I will take that as a compliment. And just remember what I have in store for you when you forgive me.”
“Mmm. I love you,” he groaned with desire.
“I love you too. I’m proud of you. When you talk to your dad, don’t be afraid of the truth. Also, can I get your mom’s number?”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.”
“Hey, wait. I’m just trying to help.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte. I love you.” He hung up before I had time to weasel that number out of him. I mean, I could use the same ploy I had used to get his dad’s number. The private security team Drake had hired to “protect” us was useful in more ways than one. They had connections to all sorts of fun information.
But . . . maybe this time I needed to stand back and let fate do its thing. Perhaps Drake calling his dad would work its own magic. Hopefully, that magic would lead him back here, to me and our son. The sooner the better.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
We were T minus three days until the Valentine’s Day ball. The downstairs guest bathrooms were all finished, and the galley was in pristine order, ready to handle the catering staff for the evening. And all the hearts had been cut out and strung. I had the paper cuts to prove it. We were just waiting to string them up, as George had a habit of popping in and we wanted him to be surprised that night. But we could no longer wait, so today was the day.
Drake was in New York to do a few interviews before he flew to the UK. He’d talked to his dad, but nothing earth-shattering had happened. I don’t know what I was expecting. A chorus of “Kumbaya” and the reunion of a lifetime? I forgot I was dealing with men who barely knew how to finish a thought at times. More like refused to. Drake was obviously articulate, given his career. And lately I’d watched him do interview after interview. He was more than capable of completing sentences. I’d offered to be a mediator, or facilitator, anything. I just wanted them to work it out. I wanted Drake to be able to forgive himself. And if possible, I wanted to arrange a reunion between Calvin and Nora. Was it bold? Sure. But true love was on the line. Mine and theirs.
As crazy as it sounded, I kept feeling like Daisy was egging me on. I didn’t tell Izzy this, as she already thought I was nuts. A lovable nut, she would say. But that was because she wasn’t willing to let go and let the magic of the inn work its way into her beautiful soul. Someday, though. I had hope.
I climbed up the scaffolding we’d rented to string the hearts across the ballroom.
“Be careful,” Izzy warned from below.
“Don’t worry, I won’t break my neck. I know how badly you want to wring it.”
“Ha-ha,” she said flatly. “I’ll have you know, I’ve come to terms with your choice.”
I snort-laughed. “You are such a liar.”
“I’m being one hundred percent honest. For Jameson’s sake, I’ve decided to call a truce with Drake.”
I stared down at her from the top rung. “Oh, for Jameson. Gee, thanks, sis.”
She shrugged. “I do what I can.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take what I can get. And who knows how it all will end.”
“Oh, please, with how disgustingly smoochy you two are on the phone, I’m sure Drake will do whatever it takes to . . . well . . . you know.”
