The Honeymoon Arrangement (22 page)

To his credit, Michael had taken the crazy request from a strange woman in his stride and had refrained from asking too many questions. The ones he had asked she’d managed to fudge her way through.

Callie stood up and glared at the ground. She’d planned
to plant two rosebushes on either side of the bench, but now she thought she might take them away with her. There was no way they’d survive Finn’s black thumb. Or lack of skill with a hose or a watering can.

Maybe she’d take them home and plant them in pots on her veranda—a reminder of the only man she’d ever loved.

She dropped the shovel to the hard soil and sat on the bench, resting her elbows on her thighs, thinking of Finn.

She could stay here for a while … hang out in his garden. After all, as she’d confirmed with Michael, he was still in Alaska and wasn’t due home for a week or so. Then he was off to Patagonia—or was it Pakistan? She couldn’t remember. But it didn’t matter. He was away and she had time to deliver the bench, to plant the rose bushes—or
not
plant them as seemed to be the case.

God, she missed him. Missed everything about him.

They’d been apart two weeks and she still felt as if she was operating on only one cylinder, as if she was walking a tight wire. She’d tried to get back into the swing of things at work, taken a four-day trip to Milan, and had hated every second of it. Callie dropped her head and stared at the hard ground beneath her flip-flops. If her work didn’t distract her from missing Finn then what was she going to do?

Go slowly mad? It was a very distinct possibility.

Man, life was just rolling on the floor laughing at her. Callie Hollis, party-girl and commitment-phobe, sitting on a bench, trespassing on her fake husband’s—now
ex
-fake-husband’s—property and trying to keep from falling apart because she was ass-over-kettle in love with a man she’d promised not to fall in love with.

Yeah, life was such a joke.

Callie felt a tear drop off her chin and land on the hard-as-concrete soil below. Well, that was a hell of a way to get
the ground wet. Finn had turned her into a crier—she’d never cried before he came along.

‘Bastard …’ she muttered, feeling as if that was the final insult.

‘Sorry?’

At the deep, familiar voice Callie jerked her head up and whirled around. And there he was, standing a couple of feet behind her, dressed in board shorts and an old T-shirt, a four-day-old beard on his jaw. God, he looked good.
So
good.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded in a thready voice.

Finn’s mouth kicked up, just a little, at the corners. ‘I live here. What’s your excuse? And why do I have a bench at the end of my garden?’

Suddenly Callie didn’t know how to explain. Would he think she was sentimental? Sappy? That it was a stupid idea?

As he walked towards her she leaned back so that her shoulder was covering the plaque on the back of the bench. Would he think that she’d overstepped the mark? That she was being too presumptuous?

‘Why the bench, Cal?’

‘A view like this needs a bench,’ Callie muttered, unable to meet his eye. He was now standing close enough for her to smell his aftershave, to feel the heat from his amazing body. She closed her eyes and told herself that she couldn’t stand up and fold herself into his arms any more, that she didn’t have the right to do that.

‘There are chairs on the veranda with the same view,’ Finn said, and Callie opened her eyes to see his strong hand—the same hand that had loved her with such skill—stroke the arm of the bench.

She wished he was stroking her. She’d reached a new low. She was jealous of an inanimate object.

‘It’s beautifully made. Hand-crafted?’

‘Yeah.’ Callie wished he’d take off his sunglasses. She needed to see his eyes because he had that implacable expression on his face. ‘You needed a bench …’

‘So you bought me one? OK.’

Finn walked around the bench and squatted in front of her. He shoved his glasses up into his hair and Callie sighed when her eyes met his. They were liquid and full of heat. God, she could look into those eyes for ever.

Finn lifted his hand and his thumb stroked her chin. ‘You’re filthy. Were you trying to plant these rosebushes?’

‘You should water your garden more often,’ Callie complained.

‘I should.’ Finn placed his hands on her knees and stared into her face, his eyes no longer playful. Instead they looked serious and intense. ‘What are you doing here, Cal? Really?’

Callie hauled in air and scooted down the bench so that he could see the brass inscription. ‘I wanted to do this for you. I thought you needed a place … somewhere to think about them.’

Finn looked at the inscription and Callie saw his Adam’s apple bob.

‘“In memory of James, big and small”.’ Finn read aloud.

He rubbed his hands over his face before staring at the plaque again. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and she needed to.

‘If I’ve been too presumptuous or if you don’t like it no harm, no foul. I’ll take it away again,’ Callie gabbled. ‘I just wanted to give you some place where you could … I don’t know …’

‘Think about them? Remember them?’

‘Yes …’ Callie whispered.

‘Thank you, angel.’ Finn’s voice was barely above a
whisper itself. ‘It’s spectacular. A little overwhelming, but spectacular.’

Finn reached out to rest his fingers on the inscription, his chest heaving under that ratty T-shirt.

After a little while, he looked at her again. ‘How did you get in here? How did you get on to the property?’

Callie lifted a shoulder. ‘Rowan had the email addresses for all your stepbrothers. Michael agreed to help me. He left about a half hour ago. He asked me to explain the “James, big and small” but I told him to ask you. That it was your story to tell. He said he would.’

‘And he will. My brothers are insatiably curious.’

Callie winced. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have done this.’

Finn rested his hand on her knee and squeezed. ‘No—thank you. It’s an awesome gift. I’m at a loss for words, actually.’

Callie, thinking that this was a great time to go, abruptly stood up. The rosebushes would have to stay, she thought. Maybe Finn would plant them, maybe he wouldn’t. She’d done all she could. It was past time for her to leave—before she broke down and begged him to let her stay.

Finn allowed her to stand up and watched her walk away, each step pulling her heart closer to breaking again. Why did he have to be here? Why couldn’t she have done this without seeing him? It was taking every bit of willpower she had to put one foot in front of the other.

She was on the other side of the pool when he spoke again. ‘Where are you going, Hollis?’

Callie turned back to look at him, standing tall and strong in the midday sunshine. She gestured to the house and shrugged. ‘Home, I guess.’

‘You guess wrong,’ Finn told her, arms crossed. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

She couldn’t help the bloom of hope in her heart or the lifting of her chin at his arrogant words. ‘Excuse me?’

‘The only place you’re going is into a shower. With me.’

Callie reached out and grabbed the back of a pool lounger to keep her balance, hope draining away. No, she couldn’t do this. She wasn’t going back to an affair, to crazy sex in the shower and then going home alone. She wanted more—she needed more. As much as she wanted Finn, settling for a no-strings, only-when-they-were-in-town-together fling would kill her.

Because she loved him so damn much.

‘We can’t go back, Finn.’ She managed to croak the words out. ‘I can’t do it again.’

‘Do what?’

‘Have an affair with you!’ Callie cried. ‘I just can’t—not again. Not feeling like this.’

Finn took two strides to reach her, and when he did he held her face in her hands. ‘What are you feeling, angel? Tell me.’

‘Why? What does it matter?’ Callie flung the words into his face.

‘It matters, darling Cal, because
you
matter.’

Finn brushed his lips against hers gently, briefly, before picking his head up and looking back into her shocked face. ‘Okay, then, I’ll tell you what
I’m
feeling. I saw you and my world settled down. I feel complete. Seeing you here makes me feel like I’m home. Normal.’

‘Wha—at?’ Callie frowned, confused.

‘I came home from the gym, kicked off my trainers and walked onto my veranda—and I saw and heard you, cursing me for not watering my garden. And my world, for the first time in weeks, was the right way up. Me coming home, seeing you, made sense.’

‘Um … what are you saying, Finn?’

Finn’s smile warmed her from her toes up.

‘I’m saying that I’m in love with you. Fathoms deep in love with you.’

‘Oh.’

Finn’s mouth twitched. ‘That’s all you’ve got?’

Callie held up her hand, trying to process what he’d just told her. ‘You’re in love with me?’ she asked, just to clarify, not sure she’d heard him properly.

‘Seems that way.’

Callie rested her forehead on his chest. ‘Okay … wow.’

Finn’s hand drifted down her spine. ‘Still not the response I was waiting to hear. Any chance of
I love you, too, Finn
?’

Callie lifted her head and frowned at him. ‘Of course I love you. How could you think for one moment that I don’t?’

‘Oh, let me think … Maybe it’s the fact that you told me that you were going to use, abuse and toss me. That you aren’t interested in commitment, that you don’t believe in love, that I was allowed to seduce your body but not your mind.’

Finn rested his hands on Callie’s hips and his forehead on hers.

‘Might I remind you that you left me with that “Thanks for being a brilliant fake wife” comment?’ Callie replied tartly.

Finn brushed his mouth across hers, sighed, and did it again. ‘Okay, I admit it—we are equally bad at falling in love. Admitting we are in love. But I
do
love you. So much.’

Callie linked her arms around his neck and reached up to rest her mouth against his. ‘I love you too.’ She tipped her head back and her eyes laughed. ‘So … what do we do now?’

Finn shrugged, his hand resting on her bottom. ‘Haven’t
the foggiest idea except that we go back to my original plan.’

‘Which was …?’

His grin was pure mischief. ‘You and me in the shower. Naked.’

Callie, her heart about to explode from happiness, thought that sounded like a marvellous idea and led him into the house.

The next morning Callie, dressed only in one of Finn’s T-shirts, followed him through the garden to the bench, a cup of coffee in her wobbly hand.

Was this real? Any of it? Had they really made love all night long? Soft and sure, tender and wild, they’d lost themselves in each other’s bodies, safe and secure in their love and their need for each other.

But what now? Where did they go from here?

Take a breath, Callie
,
she told herself
.
Take it minute by minute, hour by hour. You don’t need to have it all worked out right now. Right now you need to sit next to your man, on this bench, and watch the sea dance beneath the midmorning sun
.

Callie leaned back against the arm of the bench and draped her legs across Finn’s lap. He drew patterns on her bare thighs with his fingertips, his relaxed face lifted up to the sun. He was beautiful and he was hers.

‘I spoke to my … to Laura,’ she told him after watching him for a while.

Finn turned his head to smile at her. ‘Yeah? And …?’

Callie shrugged. ‘Old story. Married at eighteen, feeling like life had passed her by. Needed to leave to “find herself”.’ Callie lifted her cup to her lips. ‘I don’t know if we’re ever going to have a mother-daughter relationship but I can be civil to her.
You
got me through that conversation, by the way.’

‘I did? All the way from Alaska?’

‘I heard you telling me you believed in me, that I could move mountains. You gave me your courage.’

Finn pulled a face. ‘If I had any courage I wouldn’t have left you and put us both through hell.’

‘Maybe. But at least we realised that real life sucked without each other.’ Callie put her cup on the arm of her chair. ‘Talking about real life … How are we going to make this work? How are we going to be together? I know you don’t want a long-distance relationship and neither do I.’

‘Are you willing to give up your job?’

God, that was a big ask, but she would if she had to, as she told him. ‘I love my job—I do. I wasn’t sure I did six weeks ago, but having you in my life just makes everything seem exciting again.’

Finn’s hand tightened on her knee. ‘I would give up mine too, if it meant spending more time with you. So how about neither of us giving up anything?’

Callie’s brows lifted. ‘And how do we do that?’

‘We travel together. If you’re in London or Europe, I’ll write about something in London or Europe. If you’re in the States, the same thing. We spend most nights together. If there’s an assignment I feel like I really need to take then it had better not take longer than a week—because that’s my limit. That will always be my limit to the amount of time I can be away from you.’

Callie looked at him, astounded. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Hell, yes. What do you say?’

Callie bit her lip. ‘What happens if one of us gets sick of travelling? What if I want to stay at home and—?’

Finn’s eyes sharpened. ‘And …?’

‘Work in the garden? Redecorate the house?’ Callie’s voice dropped. ‘Have a baby?’

Finn cupped her face with his hand. ‘Then we both quit
and do something else. There’ll always be something else, angel, but there’s only one you and me.’

Callie took his hand and kissed the centre of his palm. ‘There’s only you for me.’

‘Good to know.’

Finn glanced at her left hand and after Callie had explained why her dad had given the rings to her mother played with the rings with his fingers.

‘You haven’t taken them off.’

Callie felt her heart speed up. ‘Should I?’

‘Since I intend to change your status from fake wife to real wife as soon as possible, don’t bother on my account,’ Finn told her, his eyes blazing with love and passion. ‘Proper proposal and new engagement ring to follow in due course.’