Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I didn’t think I was a fan of tea. But when tea leads to flirting, which leads to being tackled by Callie for an impromptu make-out session, which leads to the two of us in the guestroom stripping each other, my opinion on the beverage changes dramatically.
She’s breathtaking naked. I find every inch of her beautiful and fascinating.
But beyond her attractive exterior is her gorgeous interior that shines out in everything she does.
She’s just as authentic and open with her feelings and desires as she is about everything else.
I love how she can be so sweet and innocent one moment, then demanding and aggressive the next.
Right now she has me on my back, her hands flattened against my chest, pressing me into the mattress. Her expression is all playful temptress as she leans in for another devastating kiss.
Her tongue sweeps over mine, and I tangle my fingers in her hair to drag her in. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet, felt anything as sublime as the rhythmic syncopation of our bodies.
Rush after rush moves through me, and we roll until I’m on top, driving the beat I’m reading in her reactions .
Her gasps form the perfect melody, the shifting tension in her body a flawless harmony.
And when she finally lets go, I match her every breath, desperate to take it all in.
I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I will never take a single moment for granted. I’ve seen too much living lost to waste any more.
We remain still for several seconds, locked together amidst the soundtrack of our labored breathing.
Her shy smile when she relaxes into the sheets warms every inch of me.
She reaches up to frame my face and pulls me in for another deep, slow kiss.
When I lean back, stunning hazel stars blink up at me, lighting up this entire damn planet.
“Want to know a secret?” she whispers, pink lips tipping into a sweet smile.
“As long as it’s not about tea.”
Her soft laugh is everything. She runs her thumb down my cheek and grazes the corner of my mouth.
“Not about tea. About you. Well, sort of… I’ve always had a thing for the drummer. Whenever we’d see a live band, I’d always call dibs on the drummer.”
“Really,” I draw out. “Interesting.”
“Yep,” she replies with a smug look.
“I see. So I’m not your first drummer?”
Her teeth sink into her lip as she scrunches one eye in thought. “Um…”
I snort a laugh and shake my head. She giggles as she pulls me in for another kiss.
This one ends with me dropping to the bed beside her. I hold up my hand between us and she links hers with mine. She drags our knotted fingers to her lips and kisses my knuckles.
“Okay. Well, I have a secret too,” I say.
She shoots me a suspicious look. “I’m not your first poet? ”
I laugh and brush a lock of hair from her eyes before settling to my back again.
“That’s not what I was going to say. What I was going to say, is that I’ve had a crush on you since the moment I saw you in that diner.”
She gasps, turning on me. “So you were flirting with me that day!”
“So hard,” I laugh out. “Not that I thought I had a shot with Luke there, but you know. A guy can dream.”
Her hand tightens around mine. “Well, then I have another secret. I was flirting with you too. I thought you were…” Her voice trails off, and I shift to face her.
My smile slips out at the pink on her cheeks.
“You thought I was what?” I press.
“Um… Hot? And sweet. And funny. And kind of perfect, to be honest.”
Warmth floods through me as she casts another shy glance.
“Well, now you know I’m not,” I tease, but she doesn’t smile.
“No. Now I know I’m pretty much the luckiest woman on this planet.”
Damn.
My heart bursts with love and hope as I pull her into me and press a kiss to her hair.
I close my eyes and breathe in the moment, pretty sure “luck” has nothing to do with it.
Waking up beside Callie feels like a reward for something. I don’t know what because there’s no way I’ve done anything that would deserve such a gift. After a short cuddle and joint shower, I take off in search of sustenance worthy of an undercover princess.
There’s only one thing I can think of .
My sunny mood shifts as soon as I step into Jemma’s.
A somber pall falls over me when my gaze drifts to “the table.” Since learning why Luke’s stare kept flickering to the spot beside us the day we had breakfast, I’ve rewritten that entire encounter in a whole new light.
Fifteen months ago, Elena was here. At that table.
“Are you ready to be seated or still waiting for someone?”
I startle out of my trance and turn to face the host from the previous visits. Her expression brightens into excitement when she recognizes me.
“Oh, hi! Good to see you again. Do you need a table?”
A shiver runs through me at the loaded question.
“No, I’m just here to pick up an order. For Casey?”
“Absolutely! Let me check on that for you.”
“Thanks.”
She peeks back several times on her way to the kitchen, but my attention returns to the table. A younger couple occupies it now. They’re enjoying an animated conversation while they eat, with no awareness of the tragedy embedded in the lacquered wood beneath them.
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
The man reaches across the table and takes the woman’s hand. She rests a smile on him and my chest goes tight. It’s a new story for that table. One of many it will host over the course of its life.
There is nothing good about what happened to Elena, but that doesn’t mean something good can’t come out of it.
And maybe that’s the point. Maybe the best way to show how much we love my sister is to magnify her legacy and carry her light with us. Transform it into a beacon that reflects the person she was, not how her story ended.
Instead of hiding the haunted chairs in a dark corner, we can fill them with fresh hope and new beginnings .
A sad smile forms as I watch the young couple write their own story, never knowing how it connects to ours.
“Here you go,” Ailee says as she returns with two full bags and a drink carrier. She places them in a box on the counter between us. “You going to be okay carrying all of this?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you. Here.”
I hand her a couple hundred dollars, and her eyes go wide. “Oh, sir, it’s only seventy-three?—”
“Keep it. Actually, wait. Can you do me a favor?”
She nods, eyes wide with shock.
I glance behind me, and seeing there’s no one in line, lean close. “Can you run the checks for everyone in the restaurant?”
“Wha…”
I pull out my credit card. “Here. I can wait.”
“Oh… Um… You… I guess we can do that.”
I return a patient smile. “Great. Be sure to add a thirty percent tip to all the checks. Also, don’t tell them who paid for it, okay?”
“What?” Her gaze darts to me. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
She shoots a baffled look at me but turns to the register.
While she rings up the checks entered into the system, I study the young couple again. It needs to be anonymous because this isn’t about me. It’s bigger than that. It’s about changing the world one small act of kindness at a time.
Transforming tragedy into hope.
After paying the enormous bill, I balance the box in my arms, and leave Jemma’s with a brand new legacy.