Ripple Effect Page 12

  Now, by paying an exorbitant fee, my team will get to see me bind my life to the woman I love.

  I don’t care what it costs. I just want everything perfect that day.

  * * *

  Seven hours later, I cringe as I insert the key into the lock at our home in West Ashley and know I’m royally fucked. It’s just before midnight, and the house is dark save for the porch light burning.

  Libby pissed I can deal with; Libby hurt is not a good thing. Even as I’m trying to figure out how to fix this, I get caught up in a web of something that immediately makes me wish I was armed. “Fuck,” I hiss out.

  “Cal?” I hear a sleepy voice from the couch. I flick on the light on the hall table to illuminate the room enough to find my future bride dressed in what might be the sexiest nightie I’ve ever seen her wear. The butter yellow sets off her summer tan and dark hair.

  Forget dinner—suddenly after two weeks away, I’m hungry for something different.

  “Hey, baby. I’m sorry things went late.” I drop my bags and head in her direction before I realize I’m still twisted in whatever trap was set by the diabolically pissed-off woman now sitting on the couch with her arms crossed under her breasts.

  Quickly, I set about untangling myself when one of the strings pulls something down to hit me in the head. It’s a Mylar balloon. Snarling, I whip it away from my face before my anger dies away.

  Happy Birthday, Cal! is embossed on it.

  “Oh, fuck. Libby…” I don’t care if I drag all the balloons with me, I need to hold her.

  But not being hampered by a dozen balloons, she quickly darts away. “I know you don’t make a big deal of it. It was stupid, really. I’ll see you in bed when you come up.” And before I can say another word, she races up the stairs.

  But not before I miss the tears in her eyes.

  I pry my shoe off with the intent of leaving the guardian-like balloons behind when I freeze in place. Slowly, as if in a trance, I make my way to the dining room table where there are the kind of silver domed plate covers you only see in restaurants. Lifting it as if it’s going to bite, I realize it’s much worse because the thought that went into this is going to leave a hole in my chest like the one I inadvertently caused by not calling to tell Libby I’d be late.

  It’s a preview of our wedding dinner: lobster, green beans, and mashed potatoes. And like the night, it’s completely ruined. Libby didn’t just want to give me a birthday surprise—she wanted to give me her excitement over what’s supposed to be the most special day of our lives.

  “Fuck,” I whisper to no one in the empty room. All this sweet, beautiful woman has ever wanted was to love me, and I somehow keep fucking it up at every turn.

  Not wanting Libby to have to deal with this the next day, I begin to clear the table while trying to figure out how to make it up to her because I never again want to see the light dim in her eyes.

  28

  Present Day

  Elizabeth

  “How did Cal make up for that?” Dr. Powell asks me.

  I frown thoughtfully. “It wasn’t so much making up for a broken date or a missed birthday. I even said that to him the next day. I felt like he wasn’t putting me, us, above his business. And I said if that was the case, maybe we shouldn’t get married if he was having second thoughts.”

  Dr. Powell gapes at me. “How has this never come up before?”

  “Was it pertinent?” I ask back. God, it feels good to be the one asking a question versus answering them. “Cal understood what I would and wouldn’t tolerate. I was fine with his intensity toward his job; after all, he was determined to make something of the nothing he had growing up. In fact, wasn’t that what I had essentially done with my own business?”

  “True,” Dr. Powell concedes. “And you were happy?”

  I nod. “By the time our wedding came around, yes. I believe we were both deliriously so. We were human, Dr. Powell. We fought about things like sorting laundry, and electric bills, and savings—everyday things.”

  “But you never knew?”

  Closing my eyes, I wait for the pain, but I’m surprised when it doesn’t come. Maybe five years is long enough for the time to ease this particular wound. “You mean I never knew that my husband was lying to me with every word out of his mouth? That he had a whole life outside of the one with me? No, I never did.”

  “How did you find out?” His voice doesn’t change, for which I am grateful.

  “Oh, it would be years. Six from the day we got married, to be exact.”

  “Six years?” Now, the incredulousness.

  And as much as I’ve forgiven Cal for the deceit, I can’t quite help the bitterness that enters my voice at how naive I was. “Astonishing, isn’t it? In the early days, I used to wonder if everyone thought I was just stupid.”

  “I doubt they thought that, Libby.”

  Thoughtfully, I nod. “True. Each of them was trained to lie. But the truth of what happened comes later. Cal and I did get married. It was a fairy-tale wedding. And I have to say, I’ve never felt Nonna’s presence at any other time more strongly until I was on the Sea Force.”

  29

  Elizabeth

  Wedding Day – Eleven Years Ago from Present Day

  I love my dress, but it’s my veil that has me motionless as it’s attached to my head and then pulled forward over my updo, covering my perfectly applied makeup.

  “Libby, you’re breathtaking,” my mom whispers.

  “Simply stunning, sweetheart,” Aunt Lukie swears.

  “If Cal doesn’t cry the minute he gets a load of you, then he really is a robot,” Iris declares. This makes my lips twitch into a smirk as I’ve heard more than once from my best friend and maid-of-honor what a pain in the ass my future husband is to work for.

  With Nonna’s veil finally on, I’m ready to walk down the aisle. “Can we do a final check?” I ask.

  “Something old,” Mom says.

  My fingers trail over the fragile lace edging of Nonna’s veil. “Check.”

  “Something new,” Aunt Lukie says next.

  My fingers touch the yellow diamond earrings that were delivered to my suite earlier that perfectly match my engagement ring. “Cal took care of that.”

  “With a note that almost ruined your makeup,” Iris gripes. I glance around me, but from the pedestal I’m standing on, I can’t reach anything that won’t damage either her aubergine bridesmaid dress or my wedding gown. I settle for sticking my tongue out at her.

  She laughs. “Save that for the altar.” Which sets us all groaning.

  “Next,” I call out.

  “Something borrowed.” Iris grins.

  I hold out my wrist to show off Aunt Nancy’s gold bracelet that has flowers on it. “It’s on.”

  “Something blue,” Mom says.

  When she does, Iris and I exchange glances. “Yeah, Momma Nat. We got that one covered.”

  “Absolutely,” I assure my mother.

  “I don’t want to know,” Mom tells my aunt.

  “Neither do I.” Aunt Lukie covers her face.

  “Remember your makeup!” I cry out.

  “Right. What about the sixpence?” Aunt Lukie asks about the last of the tradition.

  Wiggling my foot in my wedges, I feel the small coin that was used at Mom’s wedding to Dad lodge against my heel. “Got it.”

  “I swear, the last one is the grossest one,” Iris declares. “I mean, who wants a sweaty penny in their shoe for luck?”

  “I don’t know,” I say with a touch of exasperation. “But if you think I’m bucking tradition when I’m marrying Cal, you’re a crazy bitch.”

  “Libby, language,” Mom scolds me. Then she turns to Iris. “But she’s right, Iris.”

  We’re all cracking up when Dad walks in the room. Then the air seems to disappear. “Libby, you’re breathtaking.”

  “Daddy, do not get me started crying,” I warn him as I fan my face.

  “Here.” Iris shov
es a wad of tissues in my hand. I reach beneath the veil to dab gently at the corners of my eyes.

  My father approaches me with his arm held out. “I think Cal’s going to lose his mind if he has to wait much longer. Even though I’m not ready to let you go, are you ready to meet your husband at the end of the aisle?”

  Pausing only long enough for Iris to get behind me to help lift my dress, I step off the pedestal and take my father’s arm. “This is the beginning of the rest of my life,” I say simply.

  His face contorts with a flash of pain before it smooths out. “Then let’s get it started.” He holds me while Mom hands me my bouquet and squeezes the top of my hand tightly. She then follows Aunt Lukie out of the room. Sam and Josh are waiting for them at the base of the stairs to escort them to their seats, but it will be Sam who stands up for Cal.

  Iris carefully holds up my dress behind me while I hold her bouquet as we three descend down the steps of Nonna’s old home. All I wanted was to get married here so Nonna could see my joy where she once held me during my sorrow. And in just a few moments, it will all come true.

  I’ll become Elizabeth Akin Sullivan, Cal’s wife. A shiver courses through my body at the thought as Iris arranges my dress around me before she steps in front of me.

  “I love how happy he makes you,” she whispers.

  “Me too,” I whisper back. We’re both pretending my father can’t hear us.

  “If he ever makes you unhappy, I’m probably going to kill him.”

  “Since I can’t imagine that ever happening, I think you’re off the hook for that one,” I joke.

  My heart flops in my chest when Iris just squeezes my hands. “It’s love, Libs. I imagine it’s bound to hurt at some point,” she says philosophically.

  “But not today,” I state emphatically.

  “No, not today.” Letting me go, she peeks around the corner and murmurs to Josh. Soon, the music changes and I know he’s escorting my mother to her seat.

  My breath catches as Iris disappears around the corner of the house, the long curls we left out of her updo being picked up in the breeze.

  Dad and I move forward. “All this for a trip to Grand Cayman? Sure it’s worth it?” he jokes.

  “It’s nice to see where I get my sense of humor,” I jibe back.

  “Well, Josh is just like your mother, so it makes sense,” he muses.

  I tip my head toward him and grin. “Plan on embarrassing me during the speech?”

  “Maybe. Is it enough to get you to change your mind—maybe stay my little girl for another twenty years or so?”

  “Daddy.” The tightening of my arm brings me closer to his side. “I’ll always be your little girl.”

  We turn the corner of the house just as the music changes. “No, sweetheart,” he begins. The crowd gasps, but it’s Cal I search for. His jaw is unhinged and working up and down. As my father begins walking me up the silk-covered aisle, Cal finally regains some of his aplomb. “It’s time for you to become Cal’s.”

  I feel like my skin is being electrocuted with little shocks by the way he’s looking at me. It’s a heady combination of love, awe, and possessiveness I’ll never forget.

  When we get to the end of the aisle, Dad places my hand in Cal’s and says, “Her mother and I do,” in response to the minister’s question about who’s giving me away, before lifting my veil long enough to kiss me on the cheek.

  But that moment is all I need to glance at Cal. When I do, I’m shocked to see the veil hid the fact his eyes are swimming in tears that have yet to fall.

  Nerves settled, I squeeze his fingers and turn my face to the daylight as my heart blooms with happiness.

  30

  Calhoun

  Wedding Day - Eleven Years Ago from Present Day

  “I, Elizabeth Dahlia Akin, take you, Calhoun Sullivan, to be my lawfully wedded husband…” Libby repeats the vows she said earlier in my ear as we slow dance to yet another song under the string of lights at the estate. “I think those might be some of my favorite words ever.”

  Twisting my head, I capture her lips in a long thorough kiss. “And that’s just a preview. I can’t wait to drag your sweet ass out of here to do much more.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “I’ll give you promises,” I whisper against her neck.

  “Will you?” Her voice has a heartbreaking ache to it that pulls at my gut. Dragging my lips up the column of her exposed neck, I brush her lips with mine.

  “Will I what?”

  “Will you give me a promise?”

  “Anything you want, Libby. You don’t even have to ask.”

  “Promise me this is forever.” She bites down on her lower lip.

  My thumb eases it out of the way before I soothe it with my tongue. “I promise you, Libby. Here, now, in front of the people who love you, love us, I will always be yours. After all, I’ve been yours for the last four years.”

  Her brow furrows. “But we’ve only been a couple for just over one.”

  Just by opening myself up, I give her a wedding present that far surpasses the diamonds glinting at her ears. “Baby, from the minute I asked you out, I’ve been yours. All of this was just a formality.”

  Libby stops moving in the middle of the dance floor. Couples are jostling us from either side, but neither of us are moving. I slide my hands up the tight-fitting bodice of her wedding gown until my thumbs rest just under her breasts. Reassuring myself she’s still breathing, I whisper, “Libby?”

  Shaking herself, she whispers, “I will always be yours,” right before someone leans on the breaker that plunges us all into darkness. Women begin shrieking in high-pitched voices while men try to calm them down.

  But my Libby? She just laughs, pulls me close, and says, “I’ll take that as Nonna’s sign to make out with my husband.”

  Even as I’m kissing the hell out of my wife, I realize the promise Libby asked for is more sacred than that.

  It’s a solemn vow.

  With those few words, my wife gave me the things I never dreamed of—the things that men go to war and live for. I have love, a home, and a family. Her words are scratched so deeply on my soul that I know if she’s ever taken away, a part of me will be plunged into a darkness even deeper than the one that has people scrambling to turn the lights back on at our wedding.

  31

  Elizabeth

  Honeymoon – Eleven Years Ago from Present Day

  Sugar sand is just beyond our balcony doors. I wonder if I’m going to have the chance to sink my toes into it at least once during the week we’re here. Then as Cal’s hand smooths from my hip up to my breast from behind and begins to tweak the nipple hardening under his tender ministrations, I begin to realize I don’t care. There’s sand back home in South Carolina.

  Rolling to my back, I stretch my arms above my head. “Good morning, husband.”

  Swooping in for a kiss laden with wild passion, my tongue gets tangled up with Cal’s for long moments before he pulls back. “Good morning, wife. How about we start every morning like this?” It’s said wistfully as we both know reality’s going to intrude rudely once we fly home in a few days.

  Ignoring that, I wrap my arms around his neck and declare, “That sounds perfect to me.”

  Dropping his head down, he strokes his tongue along the seam of mine, demanding admittance. After another short, mind-reeling kiss, he declares, “Good.”

  I run my tongue over my lips, trying to capture the taste of Cal on my lips for those mornings when I know work will keep him away.

  His eyes follow my movement. Lowering his head again, he peppers quick kisses on the corner of my mouth before he smiles.

  All I need is this: Cal smiling at me in the morning. Keep fame and fortune—all I want for the rest of my life is the man I can’t live without smiling at me like he can’t bear to exist without me either. My arms curve around his neck; I want to taste that smile.

  After I’ve done so thoroughly, I realize Cal
’s hand has slid from my rear to cup my breast again. The tips of his fingers are feathering my nipple lightly. Arching into his hand, I moan as all the nerves in my body twitch in pleasure.

  Cal rolls on top of me, the length of his cock pressing against my damp curls. “Yes, please,” I plead. We’ve long since dispensed with condoms since I got on the pill. Right now, I want to feel the hard length of it pressing into me. Reaching down, I wrap my hand around the length. Giving it a strong tug, I quickly find myself being rolled onto my stomach.

  “I love when you touch me, honey. Fucking love it,” Cal growls next to my ear, sending a shiver down my whole body as he crawls over the back of me. “But right now, I want to touch you, taste you, then I want to feel you ripple along the length of my cock as I’m buried so deep, you forget where you end and I begin.”

  Panting, I push up on my elbows just enough to turn my head and nod. The next thing I know, one of Cal’s hands has slid beneath my breast, cupping it at the same time his mouth devours the curve of my neck. The other plays with my lower lip.

  Unable to resist, I close my teeth over it, nibbling and sucking at it before he slides it out to start thumbing my other nipple. I moan, “Yes, more.”

  “Jesus Christ, Libby.” Cal’s voice is shaken. The sex between us has always been off the charts, but right now, we have a hunger for each other we’ve never experienced.