More to Give (28 page)

But she wouldn’t rent a place from Sam. She needed to sever all connections with him, and after today, she would. Callie was still technically on Sam’s payroll, representing the Sunset Harbor Inn to the wedding guests, making sure they were happy and the wedding went off without any mistakes or issues.

She was also observing the event from Will’s point of view, seeing how her future boss operated, and learning what would be expected of her when the time came. Will’s nerves were evident to anyone who knew her, but she hid them well when the bridal party was around. The Sunset had borrowed one of Dempsey’s cooks to prepare the reception meal, which looked to be a success.

And Opal had supplied the cake, of course, which was a work of art that tasted as good as it looked. All of the traditions had been completed, including the bouquet and garter tosses, as well as the father-daughter dance, when Callie found Will hovering at the back of the dining room.

“You did it,” she whispered into the taller woman’s ear, which was only possible because Callie was wearing heels, while Will wore flats.

“
We
did it,” Will replied, nudging Callie’s shoulder. “This place is gorgeous. The bride’s mother can’t stop raving about the rooms, and the bride has already said they intend to come back here every year on their anniversary.”

Pride swelled in Callie’s chest. “That’s good to hear,” she said. “Sam will be pleased to have the return business.”

“I almost wish this place had been an option for Beth’s wedding last spring.”

“Speaking of,” Callie said, “how are mom and baby?”

“Disgustingly happy,” Will said, but her eyes lit up when she said it. “Mary Ann is beautiful, as to be expected. Hard to tell on the hair yet, but I think she’s going to have her daddy’s blue eyes.”

Watching the bride do the twist with her ring bearer and flower girl, Callie couldn’t help but smile. “There’s a lot of happiness going on around here,” she said. “It’s nice to see.”

Her voice soft, Will said, “But you’re not happy.”

Callie considered lying but didn’t see the point. “No, but I will be. Eventually.”

“Are you sure you two can’t make it work?” Will asked. “I happen to know Sam is absolutely miserable.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Randy told me,” she said. “Sam has a tendency to work out when he’s upset about something. He’s been in the gym every night since the party.”

What Sam did or didn’t do was none of Callie’s concern. “Maybe he’s feeling out of shape.”

“You were doing so well with the truth there for a minute,” Will said, dragging Callie out of the dining room. “I get that it’s your life and I need to butt out, but I hate to see two stubborn people screw up a good thing.”

“You don’t—”

“Let me finish. I left Randy once, and it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” Will crossed her arms. “I was smart enough to come back, but when I think of what I could have missed, it scares the hell out of me.”

“Sam and I are not the same as you and Randy. We’re . . . complicated,” Callie said, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “There’s too much between us. Too much history. We’re not a good fit.”

Will raised a brow. “You don’t really believe that.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Callie said. “Sam is leaving, and I’m staying, and we’ll both get on with our lives.”

“Wait, what did you say?”

It hadn’t occurred to Callie that Sam’s imminent departure from the island would be a secret. He hadn’t asked her not to mention it, so it wasn’t as if she was breaking a confidence.

“He told me at the party that he’s moving back to Charleston. He’ll bring people in to run the hotels here, and I assume he has another property in mind over there.”

And then she remembered what else Sam had said. He hoped they might see each other in Charleston. Why would he have said that? She was right here, practically a stone’s throw away right now, and he didn’t want to see her. Hadn’t made any effort to change her mind.

Except he’d reached for her. And she’d brushed him off.

“Doesn’t make sense,” Will was saying, but Callie hadn’t been paying attention.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, laying a hand on Will’s arm, “I have something I need to do.”

Will glanced back to the dining room. “I suppose we can handle things from here.”

“Thanks,” Callie said, grabbing her coat from the back of her office door. “I owe you one, Will,” she tossed over her shoulder, before pulling the hotel door closed behind her.

Callie nearly wiped out twice, thanks to running in heels on snowy gravel, before she reached the cottage. Once inside, she switched to tennis shoes and grabbed her keys.

CHAPTER 28

T
his was probably the dumbest idea Sam had ever had. And he would undoubtedly regret what he was about to do, but if he’d learned anything from Callie, it was that sometimes you had to be willing to look like a fool to get what you needed.

He’d spent more than an hour packing his clothes. Putting the dress pants in, then taking them out. Finding his oldest jeans and putting them in instead. Sam didn’t own a lot of T-shirts, but he would fix that later. If necessary. For now, the five he could find would have to suffice.

Once he had finished packing, he’d paced his tiny living room, rehearsing what he would say. His first instinct had been to make demands. To say how it was going to be and brook no argument. Then common sense had smacked him upside the head. If he wanted this to work, making demands was the last way to go about it.

So he tried for reasonable. Stating the facts in a practical way. But that wasn’t right either. In the end, he knew exactly what to do. He’d be honest.

And if that failed, he wasn’t above begging.

By five o’clock, he’d practically paced a hole into the floor. Desperate for something to do while he waited, Sam carried his suitcase outside. He could throw it in the trunk now and be ready when the time came.

He reached the Murano only to realize he’d forgotten his keys. Leaving the suitcase in the driveway, he climbed onto his tiny porch but stopped when he heard a car come down his narrow lane. Turning, he saw her. And he saw the moment Callie noticed the suitcase. Pulling into a drive two cabins up, she turned her car around and sped off in the direction she’d come.

She’d been on her way to see him. That had to be a good sign.

Dashing into the house, Sam grabbed his keys and raced back outside, renewed hope sending his heart slamming against his ribs.

How many times could Callie be an idiot before the lesson finally sank in?
Sam did not want her
. He was leaving the island without even saying good-bye, and she’d been crazy to think that anything could work for them.

If only he hadn’t seen her. That was the worst part. He knew she’d caved. Sam would always know that she’d been ready to come crawling back, when all he wanted was to be rid of her.

Gah! She was such a complete and total idiot.

“Whoa,” Henri said, as Callie nearly barreled her over, stomping into the kitchen. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Callie growled. “Nothing is wrong with me.” Dropping onto a kitchen chair, she dropped her head into her hands. “Nothing except I’m a worthless, pathetic idiot.”

Henri didn’t respond right away, which felt like confirmation and only made Callie feel worse until she groaned into her hands.

“Let’s take a step back here.” Henri pulled out the chair beside her and took a seat. “First off, you are not worthless or pathetic.”

“Yes, I am,” Callie said quickly.

“No, you’re not. And if you say either of those things again, I’m going to give you one of Aunt Melba’s pinches.”

Jerking her head up, Callie covered her upper arm closest to her cousin. “You wouldn’t.”

“If you don’t get a grip, I will.”

Callie wanted to argue, but Aunt Melba did that twist thing when she pinched, and it hurt like hell. And Callie knew Henri wasn’t bluffing.

“Now,” Henri said, “tell me what’s going on. Why did you race in and out of here a little while ago?”

How could she explain that she’d suffered a temporary bout of delusion and thought Sam might actually care for her? Believed, like the idiot that she was, that he might love her?

“Would you buy a temporary-insanity plea?”

“Knowing who raised you, I normally would.” Henri leaned back in her chair. “But not this time.”

Callie ran her hands over her face. “I was afraid of that.”

“You went to find Sam, didn’t you?”
Why
did her cousin have to be so damned astute? As if she’d heard the question, Henri added, “I write romance novels for a living. I could see this coming from a mile away.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Callie asked. “My life isn’t a book. Real life doesn’t come with happy endings all wrapped up pretty and neat.”

“First of all, not all happy endings are pretty.” Henri tapped a finger on the table as she spoke. “And no, your life isn’t a book. But there’s nothing wrong with fighting for what you want. If you ask me, you should have fought for him a long time ago.”

“No one asked you,” Callie said, pushing out of her seat. “And it doesn’t matter now. He’s leaving.”

“In a few months.”

“No. Today. I saw him putting suitcases in his car.”

Henri followed Callie to the sink. “You realize Christmas is in four days. He’s probably going home to visit and then coming back.”

Callie hadn’t thought of that. But that didn’t change the facts.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. You still have a chance to fix this.”

Jerking open the jar of tea bags, Callie dropped one into a mug. “There’s nothing to fix,” she said, turning on the faucet at the same time a knock sounded at her front door.

Both women froze, looking at each other as if there might be an ax murderer knocking politely to come in and kill them.

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know,” said Henri. “I left my X-ray vision glasses at home.”

Callie set the mug in the sink. “It must be Will,” she said, shuffling toward the door. “They must need me for something across the . . .” But the words fell away as she opened the door to find Sam standing on her porch, holding a suitcase.

Her ability to speak deserted her. All she could do was stare at him, half expecting to blink and find that this was all in her imagination.

“Hi,” Sam said, holding the suitcase in a white-knuckled grip.

“Hi.” If her heart beat any faster, Callie worried Henri might have to call 911.

“This looks like a good time to pay Yvonne a visit,” Henri said, easing past Callie, then around Sam, who didn’t move or look away from Callie’s face.

“I saw you,” Sam said. “By my cabin.”

Humiliation washed over her. “Yes, that was me.”

Sam shifted. “Why were you there?”

She couldn’t admit the truth. Not yet. “Why were you putting that suitcase in your car?”

Looking down, as if he’d forgotten he was holding something, Sam said, “I planned to go somewhere.”

“Oh.” Of course he was going somewhere. That didn’t answer her question at all.

“Can I come in?” Sam asked. “I’d like to tell you where I was going.”

If she let him in, it was going to be more difficult to watch him leave again. But her manners kicked in and Callie stepped back. “Sure.”

Stepping into the foyer, Sam set the suitcase down next to the boxes she had stacked along the wall. “I see you’re going somewhere, too.”

“I told you I would be out after the wedding. Henri is here to help me move to another cottage in the village.”

“Oh. About that,” he said, taking Callie by the hands and pulling her into the living room. He dropped onto her blue chair, tugging until Callie took a seat on the ottoman. “You like this chair a lot, don’t you?”

The question took her by surprise. “Yes, I do. It’s my favorite piece in the cottage.”

“Then you should have it,” he said, as if suggesting she pack the chair into her purse.

“But it belongs here.”

“Yes, it does.” He was talking in circles. Confusing her. “The chair belongs here, and so do you.”

Callie hopped to her feet. “I don’t understand any of this. You were supposed to tell me where you were going.”

“Here,” Sam said, rising to his feet. Standing too close for Callie to think. “I was coming here, because this is where you are and I want to be wherever you are, Callie.”

“But you said you were leaving Anchor. You’re moving back to Charleston.” Desperate for space, she put the couch between them. “And I don’t want to move back to Charleston.”

“Then we won’t move.”

“What?”
Why did he say “we”?

“If you want to live on Anchor, then we’ll live on Anchor. I’ve come to realize this place means as much to me as it ever did, with or without Uncle Morty here.” Sam circled the couch, catching Callie’s hands before she could run again. “I shouldn’t have planned a future for us without giving you a say. Without asking what you wanted.”

Something warm was spreading through Callie’s chest, but her brain still felt muddled.

“You planned a future for us?”

“I was an ass,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “I thought I could buy a hotel and we would renovate it together. Make it ours. But I never stopped to ask if that’s what you wanted.”

“When . . .”

“I tried to tell you the night we made love in the bathtub. I’d started looking for properties earlier that day.”

That meant his plan hadn’t been because of a baby. He’d wanted her before. He’d wanted
her
.

“No,” Callie said, pulling her hands free and pacing into the kitchen. “I don’t have anything to give you. I haven’t done enough yet. It’s not enough.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“You have everything,” Callie said, her voice hitching as she tried not to cry. “You own things. You have money and power.” Pounding on her chest, she tried to make him see. “I don’t have anything. I married Josh and I had nothing and I tried so hard to be enough, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make him happy.”

“Callie, you’re wrong. You’re more than enough.” Sam took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You’re the most organized person I’ve ever met, and an incredible decorator. You see a problem and you solve it before anyone else could even break it apart. You understand people. You see the good and the possibilities in everything.”

Cradling her face in his hands, he added, “But more than that, you’re beautiful and intelligent. Sexy and determined. And you’re the woman I love. The only woman who has ever given me peace and made me feel alive. If anything, I’m not enough for you.”

Callie clung to Sam’s shirt, desperate to believe him. “Someday you’ll change your mind,” she said. “And I won’t survive it when you do.”

Pressing his forehead to hers, Sam said, “I will never, ever change my mind. And I intend to spend the rest of my life making you see how special you are. Callie, you have more to give than I could ever deserve. I love you.” He pulled away to look into her eyes. “I
love
you.”

Callie wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist, holding on for dear life to the man she’d thought she could never have.

“I love you, too, Sam. I love you so much.”

Rich laughter rumbled through his chest beneath her ear. “Does that mean I can stay?”

Pulling back, Callie said, “If you make one move for that door, I’ll sic Cecil on you.”

“Darling,” he said, “neither of us is going near that door for several hours.” A familiar storm appeared in his eyes. “Maybe not for days.”

“I intend to hold you to that promise, Mr. Edwards,” Callie said, leading him toward the bedroom. “We have several weeks to make up for.”

Stopping in the hall, Sam waited until Callie turned to face him. “I love you, Callie.”

“Good,” she said, stepping into his arms. “Because I love you, too.” After a too-short embrace, Callie jerked back. “But what about that property in Charleston? Are you giving that up for me?”

“I’d give up anything for you,” he said, tugging her back. “But in this case, I simply won’t be overseeing the renovation in person. It’s still a great investment, and I was hoping you might consult on the design.”

Callie’s face lit up before a sly grin took over. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve just finished this huge project within a very tight time frame. My stock is higher now, so my services are much more expensive.”

He loved hearing the confidence in her voice. “And you’re worth every penny. But I assure you, we’ll meet any price.”

“Then I’ll have my people call your people.”

Sliding his hands around to the small of her back, he said, “Good. But right now, I believe we were heading somewhere down this hallway.”

“Yes, we were.” Callie took Sam’s hand and led him to the bedroom. They were breathless from kissing before she spoke again. “Are you sure you can be happy here?”

“I can be happy anywhere so long as you’re with me. But let’s just say that Morty found a way to remind me how much I once loved this island.” Sam tucked Callie’s hair behind her ear. “That doesn’t mean we have to stay here forever, but whatever we decide, we’ll do it together.”

“As equals?” she asked, a trace of doubt etched around her eyes.

“Not sure I can say that.” Callie’s face fell, before Sam pressed on. “But I’ll do my best to rise to your level, if you’ll be patient with me.”

His words took several seconds to sink in, but he could see when understanding dawned.

“Now you’re just playing with me.”

Sam nuzzled her neck. “I’m trying to, but you keep talking.”

Callie took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I want you to be sure. I need to know that you really want this. That you understand what you’re getting.”

“I’m getting you,” he said, touching her nose with his. “What more is there to understand?”