Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Cal!” I shouted as I began to run after him, weaving through pedestrians and trying to avoid the line of people queuing in front of a hot dog stand.
I continued to shout for him until I got close enough to be heard. He turned around and the first thing I noticed was tearstained cheeks. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
I skidded to a stop in front of him and reached for his hand, but he yanked it back.
“Please,” I begged, dropping to my knees right there on the Monroe Street Bridge and clasping my hands to keep from reaching for him again. “Please let me make this right. Please. I need…” I sucked in a breath, scared I was going to say please again. “I need you to be happy. I don’t… I don’t care about anything else. I want you to be happy. Please tell me how to make you happy. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Please tell me what it will take to give you the life you deserve, the life of your dreams.”
He sucked in a sob. His eyes were wide and searching. “I… I… I don’t want your money. I never did.”
I dropped my chin to my chest. “I know that, baby. I know. But I would sign over every single penny to you today if it would make you happy.” I looked up at him. His hands covered his mouth, and tears streamed down his face. “Cal, none of it matters if I don’t have you. None of it. Please come back and tell me how to make this right. All I wanted was to make you happy. I thought I was doing that, but if we need to do something different, that’s fine. I’ll do whatever you want.”
I remembered my sister’s words about telling him how I felt.
I reached out carefully and tried to take his hands again. This time he let me. They were trembling, so I held them tightly in my grip to keep him steady. “I love you. I love you so much, and I thought it would be scary. And maybe it was, at first. But now I know that the only thing that really scares me is losing you and spending my life without your smiling face and beautiful soul. You are the love of my life, Calgary. Please let me prove it to you by helping you follow your dreams.”
The world seemed to have stopped around us. Passersby held up phone cameras, and several people had clasped their hands to their mouths with soft aww sounds. I ignored it all and focused on the one person who had the ability to make me whole or break me for good.
He took a breath, and then the tiniest quirk of his lip came up. “You’re kind of a drama queen. Who knew?”
I barked out a laugh of disbelief. “Nobody. Absolutely no one in the history of ever. Nobody’s ever made me this desperate before.”
I could tell from the look of affection in his eyes that we were going to be okay.
Cal pulled my hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles. “I love you too. So, so much, Jon. I don’t ever want you to think—”
I didn’t even let him say the words. “I don’t. I never will. I don’t.” Okay, I was stammering. I stood up and cupped his face. “And even if all you wanted me for was my money—”
His face dropped in horror. “I don’t!”
I felt light as air. “I know, but even if you did, I’d take it. I’ll take whatever you want to give me, baby.”
I leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment before he grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer for a much deeper kiss. Hoots and hollers surrounded us, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to revel in the moment, feel the weight of him in my arms and know that he was mine. Now and forever.
Epilogue
Cal - Two Years Later
“Ready to jibe!” Lottie’s voice was high and clear as she called the warning and thrust the tiller with her foot and leaned down to clear the boom. “Jibe-ho!”
The warm summer wind caught the sail with a snap and thrust us into the starboard tack. Her brother Finn let out a whoop when he straightened back up on the other side of the boat and slammed the centerboard back down. “Kick ass, Lottie-bell!”
Lottie’s grin was a mile wide. “Next time, I’m doing the centerboard too, okay, Coach Cal?”
I nodded. “Heck yeah. But only if your brother agrees to watch his mouth. Sailors don’t actually need to curse, you know.”
Lottie’s eight-year-old giggle washed over me while her ten-year-old brother blushed and stammered out an apology. Hearing the sound of her laughter was like winning a regatta. She’d shown up three weeks ago with sad eyes and a defeatist attitude, insisting she wouldn’t stay at camp without her brother to help her.