Ripple Effect Page 11

  “How?”

  Shifting to get more comfortable, I lay my hand over my baby bump. “Cal surprised me with breakfast in bed,” I begin.

  24

  Elizabeth

  Twelve Years Ago from Present Day

  Sunlight streams through the windows, only tempered by the sheers protecting my bedroom from any potential eyes that might try to peek in from the street. It’s not enough to stop the light from catching the facets of the ring that’s such a new yet beloved weight on my hand and sending little rainbows dancing all around the walls of the room.

  “I can’t believe it.” My voice still holds all the heartfelt amazement when I said a version of those words last night as Cal slipped the ring on my hand.

  The clatter of dishes startles me away from my bliss. “Believe it, Libs. This is it. You and me, forever.” A shirtless Cal crosses the threshold of my room carrying a tray of coffee, mugs, and pastries.

  I mock pass out against the fluffy pillows behind me. “I must’ve died last night. There’s no way I managed to get the guy and breakfast in bed. Things like this just don’t happen.” Using the heel of my hand, I jostle the side of my head as if to knock everything back to rights.

  Quirking a brow as he sets the tray on the bed, Cal asks, “Did this”—he runs a hand up the inside of my leg. I shiver in response—“scramble your brains?”

  Dreamily, I arch into his gentle touch. We both moan when I reach out and trail my fingers up and down the rigid length rising up behind his jeans. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I complain. I shift the leg his hand isn’t on against the tousled sheets in invitation. My other hand smooths the place in the bed where he lay next to me in between long bouts of lovemaking all night long.

  Quickly, he shifts my hand before shucking his jeans. They fall to the floor with a thunk. Moving the tray from the side of my bed to the nightstand, he crawls on top of me. “The coffee will keep.”

  “This won’t,” I agree, just as the hair on his chest brushes against my sensitive nipples. A surge of warmth builds below, waiting for Cal to release it.

  He pushes my tangled hair away from my face before he runs the tip of his nose against mine. “Did you sleep well, my beautiful fiancée?”

  I sink my hands into his hair, positioning him just where I want to kiss him. “Never better,” I assure him. “You?”

  He shakes his head.

  My brow furrows. “Why not?”

  “I spent the night holding you, marveling at how everything’s changed since we met.” His lips touch mine, too briefly in my opinion. “To be honest, if I could be awake every moment we’re together, I’d sleep through the parts of life where you’re not by my side.”

  My fingers tighten against his as he deepens our kiss. It’s worshipping and reverent at the same time. His tongue plays against my own, driving thoughts of anything but this out of my head.

  This is all I need is my last coherent thought, before Cal drives us to a place where only the two of us exist.

  * * *

  “Do you think the coffee is still good?” I murmur much later as I’m curled against Cal’s perfect body.

  He bursts out laughing. I snuggle deeper. “Forget I asked. I don’t need anything but the sound of your laugh to start my day perfectly.”

  Combing his fingers through my hair, he asks, “Why’s that?”

  Reluctantly lifting my head, I adjust myself so my eyes meet his. “Because it makes my heart brighter,” I say simply.

  His smile turns tender. “Saying things like that isn’t going to get you coffee. It’s going to make you exhausted.”

  I adjust myself so I’m curled against his chest. “I don’t care.”

  “Nor will it give you the opportunity to call your parents to tell them about the wedding.”

  I make a dismissive sound. “When I decide to emerge from my cocoon of bliss, they’ll still be there.”

  His body’s shaking against me. “A cocoon of bliss?”

  “Happy wife, happy life, buddy. Better get used to it.”

  A light tap lands on my rear for that bit of sass. “Hmm, if that’s the case, then I need to figure out when I’m going to move in.” He drops that bomb so matter-of-factly, I start coughing as I choke on my own breath.

  “What?” I manage to wheeze out. I’ve never lived with anyone but Iris or my family. Even when I was engaged to Kyle, as brief as that was, we never lived together.

  Rolling over so he’s lightly pinning me, Cal’s smile fades. “This—you and me—we’re forever, Libby. Through the laughter, the pain, the good and bad.” How is it my heart can pound so hard when it’s dissolving in my chest.

  Eyes burning, I nod, because I want this too. I just didn’t realize how much.

  “We don’t have to wait to start to have our future, Libby.”

  Gripping his biceps, I give in. Kind of. “Honey, I have no problem with you moving in, but it’s going to be a problem with you running back to your place each day to change for work. There is no, and I mean no room for your clothes. So, instead of you moving here, why don’t we figure out where we want to buy a home together? Maybe a place where maybe your clothes can take up residence? And—” My demeanor changes from teasing even as Cal tries control his uproarious laughter. “—we can get a few extra bedrooms for extending our family later.”

  His face closes up. “Children?”

  “Well, yes.” Why this comes as a surprise to him, I don’t know. “Cal, you’ve met my family. It shouldn’t come as a surprise I’d want children.” I bite my lip.

  “With how I grew up, I hadn’t given them much thought. Until I met your family, I didn’t see the beauty in children, I saw the burden,” he admits.

  “Surely your foster parents…”

  He shakes his head. “They were just there, Libby. They didn’t hurt me, but love?” His voice holds a note of disbelief. “I knew brotherhood from my time in the military, and I recognized familial love from you and Sam.”

  “But parental love?”

  “Never. Not until I came to Akin Hill and sat on the fringes of a woman’s funeral and realized the stories being told about her—from the pastor down to her great-grandchildren—were spoken with despair and tragedy in their voices and smiles and tears on their faces.” He brushes my hair back from my face. “It was your nonna who made me realize what I had growing up wasn’t normal.”

  “What we had wasn’t standard either, Cal,” I feel compelled to point out.

  “The estate, no. The love? Adults and children demonstrating not only respect out of duty but out of uncontrollable emotion? You’d have had that because of the people you are.” He rubs his thumb over the apple of my cheek. “I finally had a name for the emotions you made me feel,” he whispers. “I didn’t know what it was before because no one ever said it to me. But all day, I saw it. I felt it, and it wasn’t about me. It was a woman I’m damn sorry I’ll never get to know.”

  Me too, but I don’t say it aloud. As I rub my hand up and down his arm, I catch sight of the diamond gleaming on my finger. It holds nothing on the facets of this incredible man.

  “What is it about children that concerns you?”

  “That I could pass on to them whatever I came from,” he says bluntly.

  “Cal,” I try to speak, but he shakes his head.

  “Libby, my time in foster care…” he begins. “It was cold. It was harsh. If that’s my example, what do I do?”

  “You trust in your family.”

  His head pulls back. “My family?”

  “Mine,” I remind him simply. Because over the last six months, Cal’s managed to win over my parents, Josh, and even Sydney, who—as Cal put it—was determined to maim him the first time they met. Despite the fact Cal claims he has no idea what a family’s supposed to be, he’s seamlessly blended into mine.

  He goes on. “I was left on the doorstep of a garage in Calhoun, Georgia. Sullivan’s garage, to be exact, before I was taken in by the B
auers. I only have a name because it was pieced together. I don’t want to taint the beauty of you by asking you to take my name, let alone pass that along to a child.”

  “Will you abandon me?” I stop him before he can continue. “Will you disgrace our family, whatever it ends up being? Will you betray me?”

  “Never!” The vow is spoken roughly.

  I curl up and grip his face. “Then I will take your name. If we’re blessed with them, our children will carry your name. With the man you are, how could you not think I wouldn’t want them, or that they wouldn’t be proud of their father when I’m going to be proud to be his wife?”

  The vulnerability on his face undoes me. “What kind of man is that?”

  “Strong. Loving. Committed. And all of those things made me fall in love with you, Calhoun. More importantly, they’re what made me say yes.”

  Cal’s words rush out. “I want us to have the same kind of life you did, Libby. I want there to be love.” He takes in my room. “You have that here.”

  I sweep my fingers over his cheek. “And we’ll recreate it somewhere else. Love isn’t a place, Cal. It’s each other. And we’ll always have that.”

  Pulling my hand to his lips, he kisses right above the diamond he slid on the night before. “Yeah, we will.”

  We talk about the big and little decisions over the rest of the day and well into the night, leaving the bed only for food and to use the bathroom. Otherwise, we’re wrapped around each other, planning for our future together as husband and wife.

  Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. When I take my vows to love, honor, and cherish this man above all others, I will become Elizabeth Sullivan.

  And in the dark, I feel like I won a major war when he whispers, “Elizabeth Akin Sullivan,” just before he slips inside me again, his hands memorizing every inch of my skin in the moonlight.

  25

  Calhoun

  Twelve Years Ago from Present Day

  An overwhelming sense of pride washes over me as the FBI reunites the missing child with her parents.

  “Nice work on the intel,” an unexpected voice comes from next to me. A masked member of the private firm used to locate the daughter of the wealthy Connecticut family murmurs, “If you’re ever looking for a job, look us up.”

  “Not that I need a job, but aren’t you making that kinda hard?” I flick my finger to indicate the ski mask he’s wearing. “No clue who you are, man.”

  Amusement sparks in eyes as green as Libby’s. “Not really. You’re good at what you do. If you want to, you’ll find us.” And with that, he turns away and pulls a hoodie up before dislodging the cover that’s permitted us both to observe the reunion between Charlotte Collins and her family from an unused hospital room across the hall.

  Shaking my head at the arrogance, I catch sight of the clock. “Shit.” I have twenty minutes to be downstairs so I can get the helo out of Danbury to La Guardia. Then, it’s a straight shot home to Libby.

  I hope she’s not too sleepy. I grin at one of the pretty nurses as I make my way down the hall.

  I feel an all-night celebration coming on.

  26

  Present Day

  Elizabeth

  “Seeing Cal with a gun didn’t set off any alarms over the years?”

  I actually laugh. “My family—all of them—grew up on 3,500 acres which border water, Dr. Powell. Guns were necessary on Akin Hill to keep away wildlife and venomous snakes.” I lean forward. “I understand they are not something everyone understands. But in an environment where scaring off a wild boar could prevent injury, you learn to respect them.” I sit back against the couch.

  “You weren’t surprised when you saw Cal had guns at home, then.”

  “No. Not at all. Listen, it wasn’t like we were in a competition where we were going tit-for-tat in a fight to finish where I had to have more shoes than he had guns.” That earns me a deep chuckle. “He had, at the time, a few handguns and a rifle. It was less than my brother and father each kept at their homes on the estate.”

  “So, linking them with his military background never crossed your mind?”

  “Not at all. I remember weekends where we’d load up the truck, head out to Akin Hill, and he’d go out on the ATVs with Sam, Josh, and Dad. All of them were prepared in case they ‘ran into problems.’” I laugh. “Mom used to call it their playtime. Aunt Lukie would call it their male-insecurity bonding time.” I smirk.

  “And what would you be doing while the men would be ‘bonding’?” Now, even Dr. Powell can’t say the word without laughter in his voice.

  “Four women and a wedding, Doctor,” I drawl. “There wasn’t a weekend we were at the estate when I didn’t have my wedding binder in my hand. I was coordinating schedules to try on dresses, interview photographers, tastings, printers; you name it, I was calling the shots.”

  “Cal wasn’t involved in planning?”

  I purse my lips. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. I knew what he didn’t want, and he had a few absolutes. Plus, he was in charge of my bouquet. Beyond that, there were only a few things he really wanted to be involved with.”

  “Like what?”

  “The food.” But even as I say it, a remembered twinge runs through me.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” I try to push the memory aside.

  But Dr. Powell won’t let me. “It’s something,” he probes gently.

  “It’s just…it’s silly.” I wave my hand to move past it.

  “Libby, tell me,” he encourages me.

  Knowing he won’t let me out of it, my lips twist. “Cal had been away until the day of his birthday on a business trip,” I begin.

  27

  Calhoun

  Twelve Years Ago from Present Day

  “Hey, baby,” I call Libby from the plane that’s about to land at Joint Base Charleston.

  “Happy Birthday, my love. Did you decide where you want to go for dinner tonight?”

  “To tell you the truth, Libs, I’m exhausted. Do you mind if we celebrate at home—just the two of us?”

  There’s a purr in her voice when she responds. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll pick up something on my way home from the studio. I’m wiped from dealing with the caterer anyway.”

  A shaft of guilt slides through me. It hurts more than the knife that nicked me in the alley in Belgrade last week. Fortunately, that particular cut looks like I sliced it open on a plastic chair, which is exactly what I told my fiancée when I video chatted with her.

  Libby’s taken on so much of our wedding planning. Even for a “family and friends” event, she’s still wearing herself to the nub. But she thinks I’m trying to wrap a major business deal when in reality, I’m trying to put the nail in the coffin of a small but persistent group of arms dealers in time to take my wife on a romantic getaway. “How about we head out to the estate this weekend?” I suggest, knowing she’ll appreciate the help of her family with planning a wedding I’m all too eager to attend but know I have no business planning at this late stage.

  There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Actually, I was hoping we’d have some time alone.”

  My voice drops, uncaring who on the flight can hear what I’m saying over the noise of the transport. Fortunately, the specialized filter on the phone makes it sound to Libby like I’m in a regular office. “You know that sounds better than perfect to me, baby.”

  “Good.” She lets out a breath of air I immediately pick up on.

  “Why do you sound relieved?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Get home and you’ll find out,” she teases. “What time will you be done at the office?”

  We’re circling in preparation for landing. “I figure a few hours,” I say, praying our debrief doesn’t take long enough to make me a liar. Again.

  “Okay. Text me when you’re ready to eat,” she says happily. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Libby. Always.” Hearing the phone click in my ear, I hold on to it
for a second more before stowing it in my cargo pants. When I glance up, both Sam and Iris are glaring at me. “What?” I ask.

  “You need to tell her, Cal,” Iris tells me, not for the first time.

  “Why? So she can worry every time I walk out the door?”

  “No, because we’re all lying to her!” she cries. “You’re marrying her, for the love of God. She’s not a security risk. We should be able to—”

  “No.” I cut her off. My eyes shift to Sam, who’s remained quiet throughout the exchange. “You agree with Iris.”

  “You’ve been together for a year, Cal—since Nonna died. If you can’t trust her with this part of who you are, what kind of marriage are you going to have?” His words eerily remind me of what Bruce said to me the day Libby and I went jumping.

  “It’s not that easy,” I grate out as our transport touches down. The team stands to gather their gear before making their way down the back of the plane. Nothing more is said until we’re all off the scalding tarmac and back in the outbuilding waiting to load up in the van to head back to Alliance. “I just want to protect her. I remember everything you said to me about her smile dying, Sam. Do either of you want to see it go away again because she’s afraid?” I admit softly.

  Sam cringes even as Iris turns her face into his shoulder. I nod. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Turning to the other members of our eight-member team, I call out, “Load up. Debrief in one hour, and let’s make this one short, boys and girls. I want to get home tonight.”

  A chorus of “Yes, sir” comes from the men and women I’ve served with since I was recruited for Alliance in college. In a lot of ways, I wish I could openly invite them to my wedding. I gave myself a pat on the back when I suggested to my future wife we hire security due to the press’s renewed interest in her family since our wedding announcement appeared in the papers. Libby had seen more than one member of the press lingering outside of Deja Vu, her brother reporting the same at the estate. With this being the first big family event since Dahlia Akin passed, she agreed.