Chapter 36
CALLUM
Be Mine - GIO DARA
He was as nervous as a kid on Christmas morning. Alejandra was about to land in a matter of minutes, and Callum had taken the day off—thanks to Leif because Asma didn’t understand why Alejandra couldn’t grab a taxi—to go and pick her up from the airport.
Gatwick was nearly an hour from his house in Victoria Park, and even if he’d booked a transfer, there was no guarantee the driver would help her with her luggage, especially with her shoulder still recovering.
Plus, he wanted to be there. He wanted to greet her.
Nobody had ever picked him up from the airport before.
Not when he came home from Harvard, not when he moved back to the UK.
It had always been trains, long walks, and empty platforms. He remembered dragging his bags through Euston, then onto a number of packed train to Aberystwyth.
No one waiting. No one calling his name.
So now, as he stood in arrivals, watching the flood of people reuniting, he couldn’t help the slight tremble in his hand.
Parents embraced teary kids, couples kissed with relief, friends shouted and waved.
He’d always thought arrivals were the happiest part of airports.
You welcomed back the people you loved. Departures were always messier—hope mixed with sadness, tear-streaked cheeks, and forced smiles.
His mam had cried when she left him at Heathrow the first and only time.
His taid—his grandfather—had too, even though he pretended he wasn’t.
They waved like they’d never see him again, and at the time, it had felt that way.
Now, goodbyes were easier. London was closer.
But every time he hugged his grandfather, he still wondered if it would be the last.
His phone buzzed.
Just landed ??
He took a picture of the arrivals area, trying to distract himself.
But his heart was hammering. He had rehearsed how he was going to greet her.
No more half-hearted cheek kisses or brushing around how they felt.
This time, he was going in for a real kiss.
One that said you’re mine, even if they hadn’t said the words out loud yet.
As the first wave of passengers came through the doors, he stood taller, an advantage of being 6’4. He scanned every face, waiting for the one that stopped his heart.
And then, there she was.
A smile bloomed across her lips the moment their eyes locked.
Her wavy black hair was pulled into a messy high bun, a bright blue open cardigan layered over a white tank top and linen pants.
Her carry-on bag was slung over her right shoulder, her suitcase dragged with her good arm, her coat draped over her left.
She winced slightly when someone bumped her injured shoulder, but she kept her eyes locked on him like he was the only one there.
Callum pushed through the crowd, reaching her in seconds. Before she could stop moving, he grabbed the bag from her shoulder, slung it over his own, and cupped her cheeks with both hands.
He kissed her.
No hesitation. No caution. Just lips on lips, a warm, real kiss that rooted him in place.
She melted into him, her right hand fisting the front of his jersey as their mouths moved together. Her scent wrapped around him—salt, citrus, something undeniably her. When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead resting against hers.
“Hello, cariad. Welcome to London.”
Her grin was instant, wide and real. “Best welcome ever,” she said softly, eyes shining. “Even though I was fully expecting you with a ridiculous sign.”
“That’s next time,” he smiled, stealing one quicker kiss. “Give me your suitcase. I’m carrying everything. How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry—”
“Don’t lie to me, Alejandra.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oof. Bossy.” She bumped her shoulder lightly into his side. “I like it.”
“Oh, don’t I know that,” he grinned.
She slipped her hand into his as they made their way through the terminal and out to the parking lot. He stopped in front of his car—a grey Volvo XC40 Recharge. He hauled her bags into the back and opened the door for her.
“You don’t have to,” she said, cheeks flushing.
“I know. But you were about to get in on the wrong side. So technically, it was necessary,” he teased, sneaking another kiss. She gave him a warning look, but her smile betrayed her.
She slid into the passenger seat, and he rounded to the driver’s side.
“How was the flight?” he asked as he pulled into traffic.
“Fine, mostly. Except for the crying baby beside me. I really hope Sofia’s baby isn’t going to cry like that.”
He chuckled. “Highly unlikely, Alejandra.”
She shrugged, wincing again. His eyes flicked over to her shoulder.
“Still bothering you?”
“Yeah. I need to find a good physio and a recovery clinic—”
“I already found five,” he said, eyes still on the road. “Asked Sebastian and Omar. They recommended the best places in the city.”
She smirked, then added, “Thanks for the clinics. That’s really… thoughtful.”
“Anything for you,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her knee.
She covered his hand with hers, holding it there. In her eyes, there was a flicker of something deep. Gratitude, maybe. Or something heavier.
“I’m taking care of you, Alejandra.”
She exhaled slowly and leaned back into her seat. And her shoulders dropped just slightly.