SALT (Summer Nights)

33. Everett

Chapter 33

Everett

6 MONTHS LATER

" S hit," I hiss when I burn myself on the pan. I never fucking burn myself cooking. I suck the sting out of my forefinger before reclaiming the wooden spoon to scrape the bottom of the pan. I know why it happened, I'm nervous as hell. Tonight is a big night. Cameron graduated this afternoon, and rather than go out, she wanted to stay in. It threw a wrench in the plans I had until she insisted on cooking dinner. That's when I made her a deal. If we were going to stay in rather than going out and celebrating her achievements because, to be fair, there are more than one, I would at least be the one cooking the meal.

She didn't easily relent, which I didn't understand. But that's how I ended up cooking alone in the kitchen while she whips up a dessert downstairs. Apparently, cooking for me tonight was a big deal because she had a new recipe she learned. So we met in the middle and agreed I would cook dinner, and she would make dessert. I'm unsure why we can't share the kitchen upstairs, but I digress.

Cameron is excited about getting into the house early. We weren't supposed to be in the house until February, but with her approval and extra money thrown at the contractors, she allowed me to flex my pull and expedite the construction phase. Last week, we moved out of the RV and into our new home on Salt Lake. Interior work still needs to be completed. The built-ins in my office still need to be installed and trimmed out, and the two spare bedrooms on the first floor need lighting fixtures and crown molding. Cameron's been working closely with Mackenzie on that side of the house since her office is in that wing also. But décor and finishing touches aside, we are in, and I think that's partly why she is downstairs now. She's eager to use everything and start collecting moments.

"Ev, is dinner almost ready?" she calls up from the basement.

"It will be ready in ten minutes, but you're welcome to join me now. I have a margarita waiting for you."

"I'll be up in five minutes," she answers before I hear her footsteps pad back down the steps.

She built a ranch-style, and the square footage compared to my last house is a downgrade. My house was ten thousand square feet. The one she built here is a little over four thousand. The size doesn't bother me. People live happily in less, but when it came to the basement, I convinced her to put in a bar with a full kitchen. It's just the two of us for now, but it won't stay that way forever. She went off birth control months ago, and while we're not trying to get pregnant, we're also not preventing it either. I know she'll want that space for entertaining, and I could see Cameron using that space as a casita of sorts for Lauren if and when we do have children.

The two of them have become inseparable. It wasn't immediate, and I was somewhat to blame for that. It took me a little while to warm up to Lauren, but it couldn't be helped. We already had a tumultuous past before I found out she was the woman Damon had been warning me about with his dying breath, but after reading his journal, I was able to piece together what happened, and I think the truth was worse than the lie. Damon did love Lauren, and it was that love that ultimately destroyed everything.

Damon couldn't stop thinking about Lauren after the night they shared at the Busch wedding. He stalked her from a distance, all the while trying to figure out how to outsmart Amelia, who had ensured she had evidence of the infidelity so that she could take half of everything if he divorced her. Damon was determined to make sure she didn't get away with it, especially since it was she who trapped him from the beginning, knowing all along that Kelce wasn't his. During that time of digging up evidence against her, he learned Lauren was pregnant. He knew without a doubt it was his. Her due date aligned with the time they hooked up. He waited for months for her to call. In the journal, he shared his innermost thoughts about how he battled, believing she was scared to tell him because he was married and choosing to stay with Amelia versus intentionally hiding it until she could use Cameron's DNA to extort him. Neither was necessarily good.

That was the crux of his pain. He thought Lauren saw his heart, but when the pregnancy carried on month after month in secret, he lost his faith in what they shared, ultimately believing her to be an opportunist just like Amelia. It's why he stole Cameron. His journal never mentioned how he pulled off his feat in getting her out of the hospital, nor did it discuss what happened once he brought her home. Cameron and I think maybe there's another journal waiting to be found in the collection she has in storage, but at the end of the day, to her, it didn't matter. She couldn't change the past. She could only move forward, but his why brought her some comfort. His truths weren't easy to consume. I know they broke me as much as they healed me.

"What are you making me?" she says as I finish putting away the unused ingredients.

"Your favorite."

She gives me a coy smile as she approaches the island to peer into the pan. "Marry Me Chicken?"

"Yes." My hands instantly wrap around her waist as I pull her flush against my front and kiss her neck. "I'm so proud of you, sunshine."

"You said that a time or two today." Her hand reaches up to run her fingers through my hair. I squeeze her tighter, loving the way she feels in my arms. She was meant for me to hold, meant to be mine. We fit together perfectly. "Ev, if you keep kissing my neck like that, we'll likely burn the dinner."

"Wouldn't be the first time," I say as my hand squeezes her breast and I slowly lose myself in her.

She lets me nip and suck until she feels me start to stiffen against her back. "Ev, there's time for that later. I'm actually hungry, plus, I'm excited to share my dessert. It's edible. I swear."

I groan and reluctantly release her, swatting her ass. "Go back to your side of the island so I can finish this dinner." The direction my head was going would have derailed my plans for the evening anyway.

"Seriously, we did that on the way to my graduation. You're insatiable."

"It couldn't be helped, that cap and gown was equivalent to a schoolgirl outfit…" I pause to take a drink of my cognac before adding, "And you're one to talk. I may have initiated backseat sex, but I didn't hear you saying no."

She rolls her eyes as she absentmindedly runs her fingers over the condensation on the margarita I made her, which doesn't help the situation in my pants. It only makes me want to tread across the island and correct her, knowing how much she likes it when I'm rough, but I don't because I know I want something else more: her.

"If you want to eat your dinner, you better keep your insolence in check before I bend you over this counter—" The doorbell rings, and I set down the wooden spoon.

"I'll get it, you're cooking." She's exiting the kitchen before I can refute. I turn around and stir the dinner, knowing exactly who's at the front door. My palms get sweaty, and I take a drink of my cognac, but it does nothing to settle my nerves or help me figure out my next move. I am not this guy. Of all the things I am good at, things I'm known for, sureness is one of them. Confidence has always been second nature for me; you plant your feet and stand firm. But that's only true if you're standing on the ground, and I am not. Cameron Salt is a tidal wave, wild and untamable. Her love carried me out to sea; it's depth enough to make even the ocean envious. "It's not my birthday."

"I'm sorry," I say as I turn from the stove and find her placing the two dozen roses I bought onto the island.

"You only get me roses on my birthday." She inhales their sweet scent before pushing them into the center for display.

"I didn't know you only liked getting them on your birthday. I assumed you loved them year-round since you walk around smelling like one."

Her lips curl up into a half smile. "Roses aren't my favorite flower. I'm not sure I have a favorite… If I did, I think it would be a sunflower; even on rainy days, they're still sunflowers." She runs her index finger along the granite. "I smell like roses because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Yes, the first year we moved here from Boston, Dad threw a big party to try and lessen the blow of moving across the country, changing schools, and making new friends. I wouldn't call the birthday a success by any means. He basically invited all his friends, including you, and you brought me roses. Everyone else brought gifts befitting an eight-year-old, but you brought me roses." She shrugs. "It stuck with me, kind of like the man. You bought me roses for every birthday since, and if roses made you think of me, I was going to ensure I smelled like one too. If you looked at a rose or smelled its decadent scent, I wanted you to think of me."

And here I thought all these years she was partial to roses because they matched her red hair. I reclaim my cognac. "You've been thinking about me since you were eight years old?"

"Yes, but not like that. My not-so-innocent thoughts didn't start until high school. I already noticed you, but it was then that my stomach would twist into knots every time I knew I might see you, and I'd get nervous about picking my outfits because I wanted you to see me differently. I don't think I need to explain further the lengths I went to ensure you looked my way," she says with a sly smile.

The summer she moved into my house, I remember coming in the house fuming after I went outside to grab a drink from the pool bar and found her lounging on her stomach beside the pool, wearing one of her infamous thong bikinis. I was slamming cabinets in the kitchen when I laid into Moira about how inappropriate it was. My then-wife had to talk me off the ledge, explaining that it's not as unusual as I was making it to be; while her bathing suits weren't typical Midwest swimwear, they were completely acceptable choices elsewhere. I hated them then, but I love to hate them now. Only because she looks sexy as hell wearing one, and what's on display is now all mine and only mine. Mine… it's that last thought that has me stumbling into an important segue.

"Cameron, I have something?—"

An alarm on her phone goes off. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back," she says before taking off toward the stairs.

The ring in my pocket feels like it might burn a hole through the material every second I don't ask the question that's been on the tip of my tongue for weeks. I've known since the first time I made her this damn dinner that this is what I wanted. Hell, I knew before that. I just didn't allow myself to dream things I believed could never be. Now that it's here, everything feels surreal, like I've been living in some alternate reality and reaching for the stars has the potential to tear everything away. If I ask this of her, there's a good chance I'll wake up, and all of this will have been a dream.

I've gone over the words I'd give her when I asked her for forever a thousand times, but now that I'm in this moment, I can't remember any of them, and getting down on one knee feels insincere. That's what everyone does. Running my hands through my hair, I look around the kitchen and think quick, pulling open cabinets to try and find something. What, I'm not sure, maybe a prop that says I put thought into this when my words threaten to fail me. That's when the chaffing dishes Lauren brought over for the party tomorrow catch my eye.

"Perfect." I grab two plates, hurriedly place the ring on one, and cover it before she comes back upstairs. Then I hastily return to the stove and make her a plate of chicken on the other. I'll serve her the ring and then the chicken. I'm just placing the covered chicken next to the dish concealing her ring when she returns. "Just in time. Dinner is ready."

Her eyes flash to the covered plates before they latch onto mine, and for a second, it feels like she sees everything. Those crystal blue eyes already see straight through to my soul. Right now, they feel like they can see exactly what's beneath this chaffing lid too. Her tongue darts out and moistens her lip, and I see her nerves. She doesn't know. She can't know. Fucking relax, I remind myself. That's when her thumb anxiously tapping the lid on her own dish catches my attention. It's the dessert that has her rattled.

"Sunshine, are you seriously that nervous about me trying your dessert?" I tease in an attempt to settle my own nerves. Her brow furrows before her eyebrows rise. She may have been looking at me, but she wasn't seeing me. Her thoughts were a million miles away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." She shakes her head. "I just spaced out for a second, that's all. I've had a lot on my mind between work, school, and the house. At least the school part is off my plate."

"Have a drink." I grab the margarita I made and place it in front of her. "Relax. We're in the house. There's no rush to get anything done, and if there is, let me handle it. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Share the load. I don't expect you to run your own business and come home and manage the house too."

"I don't want to hire people to cook my dinner and clean my house. My parents did that, and I don't want anything that resembles it. I enjoy cooking meals with you, and maybe one day I'll tire of doing your laundry, but not right now. For now, I enjoy it. I like taking care of you, putting your things away in a way I know brings you joy…" Her eyes leave mine. "I don't need some housecleaner making you happy when she organizes your tie drawer."

I can't help but bark out a laugh. "Are you serious? You sound jealous, and that's the last thing you should ever be." When she doesn't spare me a glance, I know that she is. Cameron is not this girl. She oozes confidence. I would have expected this before we officially became a couple, but not now. I should have given her this ring sooner. Perhaps that's where this insecurity is coming from. Asking her to have my babies but not putting a rock on her hand is backward. I know this, but I continue to try and do what I believe is best instead of what I feel in my heart. Allowing her to graduate with her surname, giving our relationship time to marinate and flourish without a title that she couldn't easily walk away from felt like what should be done. It doesn't mean it's what I wanted, but old habits die hard. I'm still determined to protect her at the expense of my heart, and that will never change, but it would appear, once again, in my pursuit to safeguard her heart, I've inadvertently wounded it.

"I'm not..." She fiddles with the handle on the lid covering her dessert, giving herself away. "I'm just hungry." She waves her hand and starts toward the dishes, intent on plating her own, making me awkwardly careen in front of her. "Ev, what are you doing?"

"Sit, I want to serve you, is all."

She crosses her arms. "Seriously?"

"Humor me." I smile.

"Fine." She sighs as she pulls out a stool at the island, and I slide the plate with the ring in front of her. "This better be good. Last time you made this recipe, you used different tomatoes, and it wasn't as good…" Her words die off as she pulls off the lid, revealing a pear-shaped engagement ring set inside a blue velveteen box. She sets down the lid, and her hands cup her mouth. "Ev, really? Is this happening?"

I'm instantly at her side, spinning the stool so that her eyes are on mine. "It's happening. I feel like I've waited a lifetime for this moment…" I trail off, my nerves getting the best of me because, while I may have been married before, I never proposed to Moira. Giving her my last name was the only option. It had to be done, so we did it. I didn't choose her, not in the way I'm choosing Cameron now. "I wasted a lot of time pushing you away because I didn't understand love. I thought it looked different. You and I on paper don't make sense. You're my best friend's daughter. I'm old enough to be your father?—"

"Everett." She sighs, dropping her head.

I lift her chin. "Let me finish… You were off-limits, a dream I thought I had no business dreaming, but that was because I didn't see it for what it was. It was always love, Cameron. Our love isn't a storybook, but that is because no love has the same beginning or end. It overcomes obstacles and fights when you have no fight left. Love isn't always easy. It's work, but it holds on and endures. Our love won't always be perfect. I've messed up, and I know I'll mess up again, but my heart belongs to you. I am yours, Cameron Salt. I just need to know if you'll take my heart and let me love you forever."

Her baby blues are filled with unshed tears before she rapidly blinks and they spill down her pretty face. "Yes, Everett Callahan, I'll take your heart. I've never wanted anything more."

My lips crash to hers, and the world around us dissolves. I'm no longer walking through this life alone. I'm no longer the guy in the corner watching my heart live a beautiful life without me. I'm her guy, and she's my girl. The sound of her stomach rumbling has me releasing her perfect mouth.

"I'm sorry. I was selfish. I should have fed you first."

"Proposing to me is not selfish." She slaps my chest. "But you could speed it along, put this perfect ring on my finger, and make it official."

I smile big and bite my lip as I reach for the ring. "If you don't like it, we can pick out something else?—"

"Nope. You picked this one for me, and it's the one I want."

I hold her delicate hand and place the ring at the tip of her finger. "I can't wait for the day I get to call you my wife and make you mine forever."

She lets out a stuttered breath once it's wrapped around its home. "Good, because you're kind of stuck with me, ring or?—"

"Dad," Connor calls out. "Where are you?"

Cameron's eyes widen as we hear the front door close.

"We're in the kitchen," I shout back before kissing Cameron's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they were stopping by."

"It's fine." She smiles. "We can share our news."

Connor rounds the corner, his hand wrapped tightly around Mackenzie's. "It smells good in here. What are you cooking?"

Before I can respond, Cameron holds her hand up and squeals, "Marry Me Chicken!"

"Shut up," Mackenzie rushes to her side to check out her ring, and I smile from ear to ear. My heart explodes because she's so happy she can't contain her excitement to tell the world that she's mine.

Connor comes to my side and gives me a pound hug. "Congratulations, Dad." He releases me and turns to Cameron. "Let me see that." He grabs her hand and examines the ring before saying, "I will never call you mom. Let's just get that straight now." His eyebrows shoot up, and he drops her hand. "Too fucking weird."

"Connor," Mackenzie scolds, punching his shoulder.

"I'm happy for you guys. Really, I am." He holds out both his hands. "But come on, you realize it's a little weird for me, right?"

"Yeah, calling me mom would make it weird, so don't be weird," Cameron tosses back.

"We should probably talk about wedding dates," Mackenzie chimes in as Connor walks to the stove and picks up a plate, helping himself to dinner.

"I mean, it just happened. Aren't most engagements a year?"

I swallow my cognac before I choke on it. "A year? Cameron, I'm not waiting that long to give you my last name."

Connor smacks my shoulder. "Yeah, Cam. Dad's clock is ticking. He doesn't have that much time left."

"Connor—" I start.

"No, a year would be good. I shouldn't have any problems fitting into a bridesmaid dress by then," Mackenzie says.

Cameron drops her fork. "Are you serious?" Her eyes dart from Mackenzie to Connor, and it takes me all of that time to understand what Mackenzie is insinuating.

"You're pregnant?" Mackenzie nods as her eyes start to well with tears.

"No, don't cry," Cameron says, vacating her stool to hug her. "Why are you crying?"

"I can't help it. Hormones are a bitch, and I'm just so happy. You're getting married, and I'm having a baby." She hugs her tighter and rocks side to side excitedly. "We came straight here as soon as we took the test."

"To clarify, we took three tests, not one," Connor adds before taking a bite of chicken.

I squeeze Connor's shoulders. I know he's been trying to get her pregnant for almost a year now. "Congratulations! We both clearly have a lot to celebrate, and since Connor has already helped himself to dinner, you guys should stay. Cameron made dessert."

Cameron releases Mackenzie and waves her hand. "No, I didn't." She quickly grabs her covered tray. "It didn't turn out." I furrow my brow and watch as she hastily walks the tray across the kitchen. Her eyes flash to mine briefly before dropping back to the pan in her hands. She's lying. That dessert is perfectly edible, and she knows it. I watch as she pulls open the oven and shoves it in. "But we have ice cream." She clasps her hands together.

"Mackenzie, do you want me to make you a plate?"

"Yes, please. Marry Me Chicken smells delicious."

"That's because it is. Dad made it."

Cameron ignores Connor's antics rather than snapping back like usual; something has rattled her. I stand behind her at the stove as she dishes Mackenzie's plate. "Why aren't we sharing the dessert you worked so hard on?"

"I told you, it didn't turn out."

My hand finds her hip. "And we both know that's a lie."

"Everett, please leave it alone," she pleads.

"Okay," I relent, hearing the desperation in her tone. "Will you tell me later?"

"There will be no hiding it soon enough," she says before stepping out of my reach, leaving me to process her words while I stare blankly at a pan of chicken. Tonight, there are two things I am certain of: my love, something I never had before, and Cameron Salt will be my wife. The rest is all joy. As I slowly turn back around and watch my future wife serve dinner to our family, the chatter and laughter fade away as I collect a moment, soaking in a life I never believed I'd have.

She was my secret, the kind that haunted my dreams and ran away with my sanity. Sometimes the secrets we keep are bad, but sometimes they are the very ones worth guarding and protecting at all costs. We were forbidden, every stolen moment a priceless memory shared between secret lovers. Our love was a tangled web of two lost souls dancing on the edge of temptation, teetering between right and wrong. She was off-limits, but her love was just like the girl, a wildfire burning without borders. The love we found in the dark had the power to burn bright and outshine the shadows where it used to hide.

"Ev, are you going to join us?" Cameron says, extending her arm for me to come sit beside her at the island. Without thought, my feet carry me to her side, where I'll stand until the end of time.

She leans back into my chest from her seated position on her stool, her hand reaching back to lace our fingers together, a move that knots my stomach still. Feeling her need to be close to me stops me in my tracks every time. My heart always knew what it wanted because the heart wants what it wants regardless of consequence; love doesn't require reason or logic, it just is. But it only could have been her love, the forbidden kind was the only love that was strong enough to conquer my mind, for it is the best love of all. It battles the rules, triumphing over reason and transcending time, and proving that love really does conquer all.

As Mackenzie and Connor talk giddily about things to come in hushed tones, she asks, "What were you thinking about?"

"Our future," I say.

Her hand tightens around mine, and I feel her breath catch in her chest, confirming the fleeting thought I had beside the stove is likely true. God, I love her so much it hurts.

"Is it beautiful?"

Our love looks different because we are different. We aren't storybook. We were better than that. We are more than I could have ever imagined. There wasn't a trail of heartbreak that led to her. For that to be true, I would have had to have loved before her, and it's only because of her that I know what love is. I didn't keep my faith like I was supposed to, but I didn't know what I didn't have. However, it didn't stop me from praying for the things I have now. I prayed, if not in this life, then the next. I prayed for someone to love me like she does, and the Gods answered. She's perfect.

"It's more than beautiful. It's the salt of the earth."

THE END