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Then I shifted over him, straddling his lap, and gripped his face in my hands. I didn’t say anything, simply dropped my mouth to his, trying to imbue the kiss with everything I felt for him, trying to remind him that even on his darkest days, when his eyes took on that faraway look, he had me. His lips moved softly against mine, this kiss far more tender than any we’d ever shared before.
“Let’s get some sleep,” I said when I pulled away.
Cal simply nodded, then rose from the bed to brush his teeth, me padding along behind him. When that was done, I peeled back the covers and slid in. Cal got in behind me, pulling my body flush against his, burying his face in my hair. I could feel him relax behind me, as though I were an anchor keeping him from drifting away, a life raft in the middle of the vast sea.
And I’d happily be that for him, gladly do whatever it took to rid him of that hauntedness in his eyes.
I was straddling the line between awake and asleep when Cal’s whispered words in the dark pulled me back like a vice around my heart.
“I’ve never been in love, I don’t think.”
“Neither have I,” I whispered back.
“I don’t think anyone has ever loved me either,” he added. “Not even the two people who are supposed to.”
My heart dropped. The pain in his words, the way his arms tightened imperceptibly around me—it was the most gut-wrenching thing I’d ever experienced.
“Your parents do love you,” I said, spinning in his arms so I faced him, so I could snake my arms around him and rub soothing circles across the broad expanse of his back. His parents may have been hands off in his upbringing, but for both of us, I had to believe they cared about him in that way parents intrinsically loved the things born of their own flesh. They may not have understood him, but I had to believe deep down, they cared for him and loved him in their own way.
It would be impossible not to.
He pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin.
His next words were so quiet, barely above a soft exhale into the room. “I’m really not sure they do.”
There was nothing I could say in response to that, nothing I could say that would undo thirty-three years of this stubborn man believing this about himself—about his parents. So instead, I banded my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest and inhaling deeply. His heartbeat was a steady thrum between us, intertwining and beating in time with mine, and I let them wash over me.
Not long after, his breath slowed and evened out as he drifted off at last, though his arms maintained their grip around me. I pressed a kiss to his chest and burrowed deeper into him, wishing I could welcome him into my mind to see how much I cared about him, wishing I could absorb all of his emotional pain into my body so he would no longer have to live with it.
I’d been lucky to grow up the way I had. With four sisters and parents who loved each other and us, and weren’t afraid to show us every day. Even when we screwed up, even when we angered or disappointed them, I never doubted that.
Cal needed that sort of presence in his life, someone who loved him through all the ups and downs.
Eventually, I fell asleep myself, making a silent promise to myself and Cal as I did.
Don’t worry, I thought.I’ll love you enough for everyone who never did.
The next month cameand went in a flash of work and Cal, and before I knew it, I was staring down the barrel of August. I had roughly a month to plan and properly execute my Labor Day Weekend event, and I was starting to realize I needed some help.
A quick phone call earned me a meeting with the hottest party planner in the area, but she could only squeeze me in this afternoon. In fact, I’d met with her earlier in the summer, but then life—and Cal—had distracted me from following up with her until now.
“Cindy, clear my schedule this afternoon,” I said to my assistant as I breezed out of my office. “I have a meeting in town with a party planner and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“You got it, boss!”
Fifteen minutes later, I was pulling up to my house, desperate to get inside and strip out of the slacks I’d chosen to wear this morning. It had been a lot cooler when I’d left for the office, but the clouds that had shaded the sun had dispersed by midmorning, and the temperature rose rapidly. I was sweating my ass off.
I rushed inside, dropping my purse and keys unceremoniously on the floor in the foyer, then took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. I sighed in relief when I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my pants and peeled them off, the cool, air conditioned air a soothing balm to my heated flesh. I closed my eyes against a slight wave of dizziness, surely brought on by the heat and the fact that I hadn’t eaten yet today. Once I was steady again, I padded to my closet and sifted through the hanging clothes until my fingers curled into the fabric of my favorite skirt—knee length, silky, slightly looser than form-fitting, and a shade of gold that mirrored my eyes. Paired with a short-sleeved white button-up with a little tie at the hem, right over my navel, I looked perfect for a midday business meeting.
A quick check of my watch told me I had ten minutes to make it into town to meet Amie at Granny’s, where she suggested we get together for a late lunch and some drinks. I recommended the winery, but she said she was “in the mood for one of Granny’s greasy burgers.”
Truthfully, I hadn’t even known the woman knew what Granny’s was. She owned a boutique hotel at the base of the peninsula and this party planning business on the side. She was highly sought after and only took on select clients, so I was grateful my last name had at least gotten me a foot in the door.
Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t a card I liked to play, but I wasn’t above using it when necessary.
And making this Labor Day weekend a success? That was my highest priority.
On my way out the door, my phone buzzed with a message from Cal, but I ignored it. He could wait until later; if I didn’t leave now, I’d be late.
