She glanced around, saw that the caterers were doing their job of cleaning up, and grinned up at him as she settled her hips against his.Oh my.He was definitely very happy to see her.
“Not long…why do you ask?”
“Because I’ve got a fire ready to go at my house, and I’d really like to see you naked in the firelight. As soon as possible.”
The bottom dropped out of her belly and Callie felt like she was about to spontaneously combust from the look he was giving her. She managed to form the words: “Give me ten minutes.”
As she walked away, she heard him say, “Only ten minutesand sixteen years.”
Thirteen
“When you stoke a fire,you really stoke a fire,” Callie murmured, sliding a hand over Ben’s bare chest. “That blaze went on all night.”
And so had they.
They’d had, as Ben had said, sixteen years to make up for.
He gave her a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek—which was more than a little raw from lots of beard scratches—and slid from the bed. He stretched and scratched his beard, then his chest, and glanced at the clock—which read a little after ten. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” she replied, snuggling back under the covers that were still warm from his body heat. She was, after all, quite naked.
She was just beginning to slip back into a very satisfied slumber when she heard a wordless exclamation from Ben, somewhere out in the rest of the house.
“What is it?” she called.
There was a pause, then he replied, “You made the front page.”
“I did? Oh, fantastic!” Callie bounced upright in bed, tucking the pillow behind her back and the blankets over her breasts. She’d been so pleased with how Iva and Hollis’s wedding had gone—and that she and Ben had finally moved from friends to lovers—that she’d almost forgotten about her hopes for some good press to go along with her stress-inducing marketing tactic. “Do you have the paper? Or is it online?”
He came into the bedroom. He carried theWicks Hollow Gazetteandtwo cups of coffee, and was wearing a strange expression. As if he were trying to keep a straight face.
“Both, probably.” He tossed the paper to her and Callie flipped it open to the front page.
“Oh myGod!” She stared at the large, full-color photograph that took up two thirds of the page.
It was a beautiful picture of the bride and groom standing at the railing of the balcony. The huge clock face above their heads showed less than one tick mark between 11:59 and midnight. The white forest of trees and the candles surrounded them, creating a fairy-tale like scene. It was stunning…
Except for the wild, wide-eyed, open-mouthed Callie bursting through the doorway behind them. She was caught in mid-leap and mid-scream, her arms flailing, her bright red hair a wild splash of color in the exact center of the photograph, her face positioned precisely between Iva’s and Hollis’s.
The headline read:NYE CURSE CURED
“I’m going tokillBaxter for this,” she said, starting to giggle as she stared at the terrible, awful, hilariously ridiculous photograph. “He justhadto use that photo! Forget the curse—I’m going to murder him!”
But she couldn’t control her laughter. It was just so ludicrous, and she was so relieved the wedding was over, that no one had died, and that she was here, with Ben Tremaine, at last.
He was laughing too, and he leaned over to gather her into a great big hug. “I was afraid you’d be upset,” he said.
By now she’d lost control of herself and was laughing so hard she decided she’d better get out of bed before she peed herself—and the sheets. “Only me,” she gasped, dragging herself out of bed, weak with laughter. “Only I would turn a brilliant marketing scheme into a circus.”
He looked at her, his eyes so dark and serious. “And that’s what I love about you, Callie—one of the things I’ve always loved about you: that you can find the humor in even the seemingly worst situations.”
She stopped laughing. Her heart stopped beating for an instant, then swelled with happiness. “Oh Ben, I’ve waited such a long time to hear you say something like that.”
“I’ve waited longer to say it,” he replied. “And I just have one request from you, Callie Quigley.”
“What’s that?” She stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at him—no longer laughing because of the very serious look in his eyes.
“Actually, two requests,” he said, taking her hand in his.
