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Wade
It’s touching the way Callie is with her dog, and it’s easy to tell that two of them have been through the ringer together. I kind of want to wrap them both up in my arms, but I don’t want to overwhelm them.
Now that we’re walking back toward the house—Bear happily on his leash—I’m just trying to be thankful that Callie and I are speaking to each other again.
But I can’t expect her to open up about everything to me—we’re not actually engaged.
“Thank you for helping me find him,” she says to me as we walk quietly back toward the house. “There’s no way I would’ve found him so fast.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I answer her, my eyes lingering on the way she looks in my sweatshirt. It’s way too big for her, but she’s drop-dead gorgeous in it. Her messy hair is piled on top of her head, and her cheeks are tearstained, but she’s the most captivating sight I’ve ever seen.
“Also,” she adds, “I’m sorry I stormed out on you the other day, Wade.”
“Oh, Callie. I should be the one apologizing. I’m so sorry I got you into this mess in the first place. I didn’t mean for your picture to be blasted all over the internet...”
“It’s not that, Wade ... it’s just, I guess I just felt like you were embarrassed to be seen with someone like me.”
Embarrassed?
I stop in my tracks, taken aback by the sudden sincerity of her voice.
And the fact she couldn’t be more wrong.
I reach out and take both her hands in mine, looking directly into her eyes. “Callie, if you think I am embarrassed to be seen with you for even a second, then you must be kidding yourself,” I say firmly. “I find you irresistibly attractive, and not just because you’re drop dead gorgeous, but because your heart is pure and your soul is kind." I wipe a small tear that has escaped from the corner of her eye. "I would be proud to be seen with you anywhere, at any time, and with anyone. In fact, I consider myself lucky to even be in your presence."
We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before she finally speaks again. “You do?”
I nod my head and smile down at her. “Believe me when I say that there is nothing I would rather do than be with you—and nothing embarrassing about it either.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide with surprise, and I can tell that she’s moved by my words. She takes a step forward and wraps her arms around my waist, squeezing me tightly until I can feel every inch of her warmth against me. “Thank you, Wade. I needed to hear that,” she whispers.
I return her embrace, burying my face in her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo—the perfect combination of flowers and citrus, sweet and intoxicating. I whisper into her ear softly, “You deserve someone who will appreciate you for everything you are—so don’t ever settle for anything less than that.”
Callie pulls away from me slightly and looks up into my eyes, nodding in agreement before throwing herself back into my arms with an appreciative hug. We stand there like that for a few moments before heading back toward the house.
Except, I don’t want this night to end.
“Are you tired? Or would you wanna hang out for a while?” I ask her. “I was thinking that maybe I could light the fire and grab my guitar. You’re not the only one who’s had writer’s block, and I was thinking that maybe you could help me with a song I’m working on.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, her face filling with an adorable curiosity that beams under the moonlight. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’ve never written a song before.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’ve written plenty of them—and if you can write a book, I bet you can help me put together some lyrics. It’s like poetry.”
“I do like writing poetry,” she says, her lips curling into a smile. “Bear running off has me wide awake, too, so I guess there’s no harm in giving it a try.”
“Perfect. You wait here,” I say as we reach the landscaped campfire area. “I’m just gonna run up and grab my guitar, I’ll be right back.”
At her nod, I sprint up to the house, slipping in through the back door. I grab the guitar from the now-empty study, a lighter, and another jacket for myself. My heart’s beating with some sort of nervous anticipation, as if writing a song together might be more poignant than the kisses we’ve shared.
Nah, the kisses were better—but this is a close second.
As soon as I make it back to the fire pit, Callie and Bear are sitting on the stone bench, fashioned around the fire pit in a circle. Dad and Mom had it built years ago, back when I was still in high school, mostly so all of our friends could sit around the fire and eat s’mores. I have a lot of fond memories of writing and playing music here.
There’s more good than bad.
Somehow, I always forget that when I get away from this place—or maybe it’s just Callie putting a new light on things. Either way, I light the fire, tossing some of the wood into the center of the large bowl. Dad always has wood stacked off to the side, and I make a mental note that I’ll need to cut some to replace it.
“Oh wow, that feels so good,” Callie says, stretching out her hands toward the orange glow of the flame. “I didn’t realize how cold my hands were.”
