“He’d be a fool to try. The itinerary was suggested and approved by the Chamber Office. It’s what the Royal Blues wanted. As for getting everything done, babe, you had lists of your lists. You marked off everything.”
Babe. A new term for them. One that came into play somewhere between “the royals are coming” and tonight,theyhad happened—Caleb and Emery.
During the last eight weeks, if Emery wasn’t at the paper, she was at his house, helping source items for the East End’s beautification, making calls, approving colors for the banners, making dinner, and enduring Bentley’s fount of royal knowledge.
While plenty of kisses had been shared, there’d been no declarations of love. Yet he felt it with every ounce of his being.
“I can’t believe we got it done in time.” Caleb twisted his fingers through the ends of her hair.
“Delilah believes it’s because of Immanuel, God with us.”
“With the number of volunteers we had, I believe it.”
The banners, the lights, the flower planters, the repaired and painted benches, along with the storefront renewals, were all done by volunteers. Bobby Brockton sent over a crew to fix the broken bricks of Sea Blue Way. On his own dime.
“I’m a fourth generation Sea Bluean,”he said.“How could I not contribute to this once-in-a-century visit?”
Even Mac puffed out his chest and hired a team to trim the trees and cut back the ground cover in the Org. Homestead.
Caleb nodded toward Delilah, who watered the flowers she’d recently planted in the courtyard. The Sands Motor Motel was the royal couple’s first stop after the brunch.
“I heard the princess is a fan of her music.”
“Really? You must’ve read that somewhere.” Emery pressed her laughing lips to his.
“I think I did. In a great little newspaper called theSea Blue BeachGazette.” Caleb never spent a lot of time imagining his future—he knew how precarious relationships could be—but sharing all of this with Emery felt like the beginning of many, many lovely moments. Millions, billions of them.
“I was talking to Bentley last night after dinner,” she said. “He really misses his mom. She’s not called in a while.”
“She’s ticked that I wouldn’t invite her to the royal brunch,” Caleb said.
“There was a flurry of QuinnFam texts when the news broke. They all wanted to come, then pretended to be mad when I said no. But they really do understand. Are you sure that’s not the case with Cassidy?”
“If I go by her word choice, she’s mad. She has it in her head she’s a nobody. The lack of an invitation is further proof. It’s worse because her son is invited.”
“Then I guess Bentley didn’t tell you she texted him. Told him to invite her if he loved her.”
Caleb glanced up at Emery. “He said that?”
“Yes. I thought you should be aware he feels guilty.”
“I’ll talk to him tonight.”
Emery ran her fingers through his hair. He’d gone to the barber earlier today, ready for the weekend, but Em could mess up his hair anytime. “Is anything else bothering you?” she said.
“Why do you ask?”
“You seemed distracted.”
“You’re not supposed to turn your trained journalistic eye on me, Quinn.”
“You don’t have to tell me but—”
“Mac emailed me this week. Wants to know my answer.”
“And?”
“Usually I know exactly what to do. I assess a situation and decide. But this one ... Am I turning down an opportunity because of my own prejudice?” With that, he kissed her and said he needed to go. “Bentley’s home alone.”
