“Afternoon,” Petra said as Charlotte stood back to survey her work. She turned to Claudia’s mother.
“Good afternoon.” She smiled at the woman genuinely. “Is she ready?”
“I think so. She’s checking in at Palm House.”
Hope had managed to secure the perfect partnership between Your Tidal Forever and a dancing hall and reception center about six months ago.
They had bride and groom rooms, as well as a large space inside in case of bad weather. Hope had told Charlotte they’d only had to move one wedding indoors in the two years Your Tidal Forever had been open, and only because of wind.
After all, people came to them for a beach wedding, not an indoor ballroom wedding, even if it was beautiful.
“Dennis is waiting for her,” Charlotte said. “I just wanted to see this.” She looked at Charlotte, who worked very hard not to squirm. “It’s very beautiful. She’s going to love it.” She patted Charlotte’s arm and turned away.
Palm House sat on the opposite side of the street from Your Tidal Forever, its back doors facing the bay, and Charlotte watched as Petra picked her way across the sand to the building.
“This is going to be great,” she whispered to herself. She’d worked on several high-stress projects in Carter’s Cove, but somehow this one felt bigger. This one would define her career and future here in Getaway Bay.
She took a deep breath and took a few photos on her phone before she returned to her office for anything last minute she needed to do. Her list sat on her desk, and she consulted it, crossing off a few things she’d just completed.
And then there was nothing left to cross off. She’d check on everything at Palm House and watch the wedding from afar, the same as she’d done on other jobs. No one wanted to see the wedding planner in the details. Everything just had to work.
Across the street, things at Palm House were humming along. Claudia’s mother and grandmother were helping her into the dress, and Aiden was busy snapping pictures, just as he should be. He’d get thirty minutes with Claudia and David before Hope would whisk David outside to the altar, which should coincide with the last of the guests arriving.
Charlotte enjoyed the air conditioning, though it wasn’t that hot today, and peeked out the window to see Hope standing on the beach and gesturing people toward the book as they arrived.
She wore a pale blue dress that looked like it was made from something luxurious. She smiled. Not a hair was out of place. She definitely knew how to put on a performance, as Charlotte knew she wasn’t feeling particularly well that day.
Charlotte wasn’t either, and she coached herself that in a few hours, everything would be over and she’d feel better.
Before she knew it, Aiden went outside to take pictures of the guests, the altar, the trellis, the stand with the book, everything. Hope came to get David and anyone else who needed to get down to the sand, leaving Claudia, her father, and Charlotte alone in the building.
Charlotte stepped into the bride’s room and said, “You look beautiful. Your father is right outside.”
Claudia didn’t seem to wear an ounce of nervousness with her flawless dress. The evidence of whatever doughnuts she’d consumed over the past few months had obviously been worked off, because she was trim and tall and terribly beautiful.
“Thank you, Charlotte.” Claudia grinned at her, extending both hands toward Charlotte. She took them and said, “I can’t believe this day is finally here.”
The love Claudia exuded moved through the air and into Charlotte as if by osmosis. Charlotte wanted to bask in it for as long as possible, but Claudia’s father knocked, the indication that everything was set on the beach and all they needed was the bride.
So Charlotte opened the door and passed Claudia to her father with a whispered, “Good luck,” before the door closed.
She should go watch the wedding from the wings, but before she could move, the door opened again and Claudia poked her veiled head in.
“I don’t know what happened with you and your boyfriend,” she said. “But it was obvious he made you happy.” She added a smile to it, a small shrug, and ducked back out.
Charlotte stood in the room for another few moments, absorbing the last echoes of love she’d felt from Claudia.
As she went downstairs and outside, the first strains of the wedding march lifted into the perfect afternoon air. Claudia was radiant as her father stepped her down the aisle at a slow pace.
And when he passed her to her soon-to-be husband, tears gathered in Charlotte’s eyes. She had been happier with Dawson.
And in that moment, she wasn’t sure why she’d broken up with him.
“I love him,” she whispered, recognizing the feeling flowing through her. And while she wanted to leave immediately, she couldn’t. She had to stay for the wedding, the dinner, and the party. She had to clean up. Yes, she definitely had several hours of work ahead of her still.
But as she accepted she couldn’t call him or jump on a plane and fly to San Diego right now, she also vowed to get in touch with him at the first available moment.
By the time Charlotte made it down Cinder Road in her sporty car and inside the house, her headache pounded behind both eyes. She kicked her heels off immediately inside the door and pressed her back against it.
Something hissed and clicked inside, and her heart leapt around inside her chest. Was there someone in her house? Again?
Edging into the kitchen, she reached into her purse for her small bottle of pepper spray. But the room was empty. As was the deck, and the living room, and every other room in the house. Charlotte got her pulse to settle down, and she tucked her spray back in her bag.
As she did, her fingers touched the hard plastic of her phone case. She pulled it out, remembering her promise to herself. But the device had died at some point during the afternoon and evening festivities.
A sigh passed through her lips, and she wasn’t sure she could climb the steps to plug in her phone and then come back down to get painkillers and food.
So she set the phone on the kitchen counter and took care of her most pressing needs: her pain and her hunger.
By the time she dragged herself up the stairs to bed, she didn’t even notice she’d left her phone on the corner of the counter.
She remembered the next morning when she woke up to streaming sunlight and the panic that she’d be late for work.
Several seconds passed before she realized she wasn’t going in to work today. But she didn’t know what time it was without her docking station holding her phone, and she padded downstairs in her tiny pajama shorts and tank. Since she’d eaten late last night, she bypassed the fridge in favor of her phone and went back upstairs to charge it.
The battery icon came up, and she pressed the power button until the sing-songy chime sounded. She needed a shower and she knew her phone would take its sweet time powering up, so she went into the bathroom.
When she came out twenty minutes later, her muscles had forgotten about all the work they’d done yesterday. She saw a blue flashing light on her phone, which meant she had missed texts.
She collapsed on the bed, toweling her short hair with one hand as she picked up her phone with the other.
“Oh, a call,” she said, her heart seizing when she saw Dawson’s name on her screen. She was going to call him last night. How had she forgotten her vow?
A phone icon sat in the top bar, and she hoped he’d left a message. Her mom had texted, but she opted to call her voicemail first. Her mouth felt dry and her heart beat somewhere in the back of her throat as she waited for the electronic voice to lead her toward her messages.
Finally, Dawson said, “Hey. I’m flying back to the bay tomorrow, and I’m wondering if you’d like to go to dinner. Or just meet me at the airport. Or something.” A long pause filled the line, and Charlotte was about to hang up when he added, “Call me back. If you want.”
The female robot came back on, but Charlotte was already stabbing at
the eight to get the call’s date and time.
“December twentieth, eleven-oh-four a.m.”
“Yesterday,” Charlotte said, pure wonder in her voice. She hung up with the voicemail woman still giving her options and hurried to dial Dawson back. He didn’t answer, and she wondered if his flight really had been so early in the morning.
It was then that she noticed it was just after noon. With the time difference, he could easily already be on an airplane and unable to take a call.
Disappointment cut through her with all the sharpness of a knife and she ended the call without leaving a message. She gripped the phone a bit too tightly, her mind racing. Could she find out which flights were coming from San Diego?
She stood as if she’d fly down the stairs and into her car wearing only a bath towel. Her phone beeped in her hand, and she looked down at another text from her mother.
No, she couldn’t rush right off to the airport. She’d see what her mom needed, then she’d get dressed, and go see what she could do to find Dawson. At the very least, she could park outside his trailer until he showed up.
She opened her texts, her eyes scanning as she realized she’d received more messages than she’d thought. Sure, her mom had been texting but so had Hope and so had Dawson.
She could see the first five words of all of her messages, and his said, In case you wanted to
Her breath stuck somewhere in her lungs, and she tapped to open his message so she could read it fully.
In case you wanted to meet me at the airport, here’s my flight information. Delta 4287, arriving at 1:36.
His second message read: I know it was your big wedding day yesterday, and I’m hoping that’s why you haven’t responded.
Nothing more.
He was so patient and kind, and a sob worked its way up Charlotte’s throat. She didn’t let it out, because she didn’t have time.
His flight landed in just over an hour, and she was going to be there no matter what.
She rushed to get dressed, dry her hair and throw on some mascara. Her mother’s and Hope’s texts could wait.
Charlotte had to make things right with Dawson first.
Chapter Twenty
Dawson had never had to go to the bathroom quite so badly. And the plane had been on the ground for fifteen minutes already, but another one was still loading at their gate and the pilot couldn’t pull in.
His leg bounced, and he felt sure he should get up and head to the back of the aircraft, despite the several warnings that had been given. We can’t move if someone is out of their seat.
Blah blah blah.
His bladder was going to explode.
One more minute, he coached himself. You can wait one more minute. The plane’s going to move any minute now….
Thankfully, it did, and they arrived at their gate several minutes later. His heart pumped out an extra beat at the thought of seeing Charlotte as he came out of the airport. But he tamped down the excitement, as she still hadn’t responded to any of his messages.
The seatbelt light went off and people moved. Bins opened and the aisle filled. Dawson held very still for two reasons—one, the bathroom issue was serious and he’d be moving very little and quite slow until that was taken care of.
And second, his phone had just lit up and notified him of a missed call.
A missed call from Charlotte.
Emotion choked in the back of his throat as he stared at her name. No voicemail, and the timestamp on the call was that moment, but he knew she hadn’t just called.
Or had she?
A flurry of texts came in too, and Dawson paused in his movement toward calling her back.
“She texted too,” he said under his breath, ignoring the activity around him.
Got your message this morning. Busy day yesterday. On my way.
A smile pulled across his face, widening until he felt he must look like a clown.
On my way.
In that moment, he didn’t know of any other three-word phrases he loved more. He got to his feet when it was his row’s turn, collected his bag from the overhead bin and edged down the aisle, his hopes soaring somewhere at ten-thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean.
He wanted to run straight out of the airport and wrap his arms around the woman he loved, but he really did need to use the restroom first.
With all his needs met, he started toward the exit, much slower than he’d originally thought he would. What if she wasn’t there?
He had no way of knowing when she’d sent those messages, and she could be on her way still. The crowd in front of him constantly shifted and moved as people went different directions. He scanned the area just beyond security, where families and loved ones waited for those coming off flights.
Charlotte couldn’t be found. His heart sank, and he steeled himself for disappointment.
But it was more than disappointment. The emotion filling him felt soul-crushing, full of lead, and dark.
Then someone lifted a sign above their heads and it had a helicopter drawn on it in black marker. He paused, his name clearly spelled out behind it.
The woman holding the sign pushed forward against the ropes that had been set up, and there was Dawson’s beautiful Charlotte.
Their eyes locked, and she bounced on the balls of her feet, a smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks. She waved the sign a little as if he hadn’t seen it, and that somehow got Dawson’s legs to move faster.
He rushed toward her, laughter bubbling out of his mouth. At some point he abandoned his carryon, because he needed both hands to grab onto Charlotte.
She giggled too as he swept her up, holding her tight against him.
“I’m so glad you came,” he said into her hair before taking a deep breath of it.
He set her on her feet, and moved his hands to her face, wanting to feel her, make sure she was real and not a figment of his imagination. “You came. I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I didn’t think I’d make it.” She smiled and he wiped her tears with his thumbs.
“I love you,” he said, unsure of what else to say to help her understand. “And I know you’re not ready to hear it, but I have to say it. You have to give me another chance. I can’t—I miss you too much.”
She shook her head, and Dawson’s hope plummeted. “You don’t get another chance. I’m the one who needs another chance. I’m the one who messed up.”
“Babe, you can have as many chances as you need.” He searched her eyes, trying to figure out what was happening, where this was going.
“I’ve decided something,” she said, her arms around him so wonderful and so right.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. This year sucked for me.”
He found that raw vulnerability in her eyes, but she blinked and determination replaced it.
“I want next year to be better. I want to start the year off right, and finish it with a bang.”
Dawson had no idea where she was going with this. “All right,” he said anyway.
“And I want you in it,” she said. “Every day, all year long. I want to learn something new about you every day, and kiss you every day, and hear you say I love you every day.” She peered up into his eyes. “Do you think you can do that?”
Dawson took a moment to register everything she’d said. “I think I can manage,” he finally said.
A smile touched her lips, drawing his attention there. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you too, Dawson Dane.”
He felt as if someone had shocked him right behind the ribs, and he barely had time to process the electricity flowing through him before she tipped up and kissed him.
He was vaguely aware of the people around them cheering and clapping. From far away, someone told him he couldn’t leave his bag in the middle of the hall. Finally, a stern voice said, “Folks, you’re gonna have to take this outside.”
Only then did Dawson pull away from the best kiss of his life and look the security g
uard in the face. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, sir.”
The guard indicated Dawson’s bag, and he took it, finding a twinkle in the man’s eye and a smile on his face just before he tucked Charlotte into his side and headed for the sunshine beyond the automatic doors.
They took Charlotte’s car to the beach, which was fine with Dawson. He’d live twenty-seven hours today, and if she wanted to navigate the lunchtime traffic to her office parking lot, he didn’t care.
“What are we doing here?” he asked, peering out the windshield. Because the wedding planner building was farther down the beach, only a sandwich shop and a convenience store sat anywhere close as viable options to eat.
“I just want to walk along the beach for a few minutes,” she said. “Are you starving?”
He could eat, but the need to talk with Charlotte teemed just beneath his tongue, so he said, “Let’s walk. If we see something along the way, we’ll stop.”
She met him at the front of the car, and he took her hand in his a little tentatively. Charlotte didn’t say anything, as per her usual and past behavior. Dawson waited, hoping he wouldn’t blurt out something that would prevent her from saying what she needed to.
“My parents are coming for Christmas,” she finally said when her sandaled feet first touched the wetter sand near the shore.
Dawson paused, so many things firing inside him at once. “They are? You spoke to them?” And would he have to meet them? He hadn’t met a woman’s parents in such a long time, he wasn’t even sure how to do it.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I went to Oahu after I called you and…broke up with you. I’m sorry, Dawson.” She turned toward him, a storm of feelings flitting around her face. “I was wrong about a lot of things, but you deserved better than a phone break up.”
“It’s fine,” Dawson heard himself say, though he hadn’t appreciated her behavior. “I mean, I was pretty…I don’t know.” He hadn’t really been angry. Definitely desperate.
“You went to see your family,” she said. “Why?”