Listen to Your Heart(42)

“But . . . what if, by some miracle, she recovers? I mean, that would be wonderful, of course—”

“If she recovers then she’ll be strong enough to handle an annulment, right?”

With a heavy sigh, Caleb wraps his arms around me and kisses my temple.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“I love you, too. I have some conditions, though.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“You have to tell me you love me every single day.”

He chuckles. “Too easy.”

“And we can’t date. Not publicly, anyway. Too risky. It’s going to be takeout and Netflix.”

“I like takeout and Netflix.”

“We can do this. We just have to be creative.”

“I can be very, very creative.”

“And no sex.”

He groans. I’m not happy about it, either.

“I just think we should wait until we can truly be together. Those are my conditions.”

Caleb nuzzles my neck. “I can live with those, but . . .”

“Yes?”

“Can we have sleepovers? Our last one was pretty fantastic.”

With a grin, I take him by the hand and lead him toward my bedroom. “I think we can arrange that. I’d love to wake up with you tomorrow morning.”

“Just tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe every morning.”

I grab a tank top out of my drawer and turn around, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. When I’m finished changing, I look over to find Caleb already in my bed and under the blanket. We gaze at each other until both of us laugh.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” he asks.

“I just . . . I can’t believe you’re here.”

His smile is heartbreakingly tender as he reaches his hand out to me.

“Come lay with me.”

I slowly walk over and place my hand in his. With a gentle tug, he pulls me down on top of him. Caleb’s arms encircle me as our bodies align, and we sigh as we melt into one another. He kisses me then, soft and sweet, and I slide down, nestling my head on his chest. While his fingers slide through my hair, I know I’ve never felt more cherished or loved in my entire life.

Suddenly, I’m crying.

“Hey, what’s this?”

I look up into his handsome face. “Nothing, I’m just such a girl.”

He smirks. “I have to admit that’s the first thing I noticed about you. That and your gorgeous green eyes. But that doesn’t explain why you’re crying.”

I sigh as he tenderly wipes my tears away.

“Just an emotional day.”

“You know what we need? We need music.”

With a smile, I point to my dresser.

“See that boombox? There’s a cassette in there with your name on it.”

He grins and sprints out of bed. As soon as he presses play, the room is filled with Journey’s Faithfully.

“I wondered if you got it,” he says, climbing back under the covers.

“You never mentioned it.”

“I didn’t know what to say. Besides, when was I supposed to bring it up? When we were picking out china for your fake wedding? Seemed inappropriate.”

“But you like it?”

“I love it. I listen to it every night.”

Caleb holds me close as we listen to song after song. I’ve nearly drifted off to sleep when he whispers in my ear.

“Everything’s going to be okay now.”

“No matter what?”

His fingers lace with mine.

“No matter what.”





I’m on the phone with a caterer when Lynsey walks in, slams my office door, and shoots me an icy glare. At least she has the professional courtesy to stay quiet while I finish the call.

“That’s right, Noelle. Two hundred guests at the Colonial Room. Email me some sample menus and we’ll see what works. Thanks.”

She waits an entire two seconds before opening her mouth.

“What the hell, Skylar Grace?”

Oh, the full name. Must be serious.

I smile sweetly at my partner. “Good morning, Lynsey. What’s crawled up your ass?”

“Would you mind explaining to me why Juliana Martinez is sitting in our lobby . . . with an appointment to discuss bridesmaids’ dresses? Robyn said you added it to the calendar, but that can’t be true because we’ve already ordered those dresses—an order we need to cancel because Juliana’s not getting married. So why is she here?”

It’s been a week, and I still haven’t given Lynsey the full story. Quite frankly, I’ve wanted to avoid a situation like this one.

I take a deep breath. “Lynsey, it’s a long stor—”

“You caved!”

“I compromised.”

“What’s the difference?”

I press the intercom button and ask Robyn to show Juliana to the small conference room.

“Lyns, I’m not discussing this with you until you calm down. It’s my life, and I know what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?”

“Right now, I’m going to the conference room to help Juliana pick out fabric for the dresses. Mrs. Martinez has decided she wants black.”