“I know we said London, but their place is a good three hours by car, I can just call her back and say we can’t swing it this trip if you’d rather just stay in the city—l don’t want to force my family on you—”
She put two fingers over my lips and pressed down, effectively shutting me up without saying a word—something at which she was an expert. “You never force me to do anything, and I very much want to meet them. I need to know everything about my new husband—who spoils me rotten constantly—and that includes getting to know his English cousins, especially if one of them runs a B & B in a huge old manor house in Somerset.” She moved her fingers away and replaced them with her sweet lips instead. “Now come back into bed and warm me up,” she murmured softly. Her kiss kept my mouth silent, but who needs words when you have the most beautiful wife in the world naked in the sheets, hopped up on pregnancy hormones, with nothing but time to give her what she just asked for?
Have I mentioned what a lucky bastard I am? Or how, for like the first time in forever, I am digging the holidays this year? Merry effing Christmas, and glad tidings of great joy, Blackstone. Don’t fuck with good fortune when your wife needs you to fuck her instead. I am probably going to hell for that filthy thought, but I’ll worry about that at another time. I’m on my honeymoon with the love of my life, who at this very moment has her gorgeous naked body pressed right up against me in the bed.
Say what you will, but one thing about me is never in doubt. I am a man who definitely knows where his priorities lie.
* * *
Five hours later.
BROOKE
The unusual winter snow draped over the hills and dales like a white fur coat.
Absolutely breathtaking.
Even though winter was probably not the very best season for its full potential of beauty, I still soaked up the sight of the English countryside like drops of water melting into a dry sponge. The surprise Christmas snowfall was merely an added treat. I did not realize how much I’d missed the sights and sounds of home—and because so much time had passed since I’d experienced it—the blast of the reconnection was truly overwhelming for me. I struggled to control the rush of my emotions, and the pull of tears that threatened to spill over as I stared out the window at the lovely countryside of my homeland. The urge to tears was nothing new. I lived with it daily due to my PBA. It was easier to control these days now that I understood what had happened to me in that accident, thanks to Caleb and his endless research. If he hadn’t figured it out, I would still believe I was just an emotionally damaged freak with no explanation whatsoever for my overreactive behaviors.
“Are you okay, baby?” Caleb whispered against my ear. He was so intuitive, and had been from the first. My husband amazed me with his patience and kindness whenever I had one of my “episodes.” Quite simply, Caleb was the very best cure for my unwelcome melancholy feelings, hands down.
I nodded yes and gripped his hand with both of mine. I kept my eyes out the window and focused on the beauty of the scenery. “I hadn’t realized how much I missed…just seeing it—being here. Thank you for bringing me.” I let Caleb’s strength and love support me through the moment until the intense emotions melted away, ever grateful he’d hired a driver to take us to Somerset, so I could have him beside me in the back seat where I could touch him. Caleb’s touch worked miracles on me even though I was dealing with the effects of pregnancy hormones on top of my PBA. The next months were going to be veryinteresting.
“Good. I’m glad we came then. And I will always take you wherever you want to go,” he said as he drew me back to lean against his strong chest, “as long as I can get the information out of you,” he teased.
I nodded again, still focused on the countryside as he held me close. “Can you tell me a little about your family before we get there?” I asked, content and warm with Caleb wrapped around me like a blanket and the comforting view out the window.
“Sure. I think you’re going to like them a lot. They already love you, and they haven’t even met you yet.”
I took a deep breath as I settled, listening to the steady voice of my husband as he described the people he clearly adored:
There was Hannah who ran the B&B at Hallborough House, the ancestral estate of the Greymonts, set along the scenic Somerset coast. He told me about her physician husband, Dr. Fred Greymont, and their three children—two older boys, Colin and Jordan, and a little girl, Zara, about five or six. Hannah also had a brother, Ethan, who had a country home nearby and would also be there with his American wife and baby daughter. Caleb and Ethan were about the same age and kept up with each other on Facebook, and even did some business between their two companies. He mentioned that Ethan and his wife, Brynne, hadn’t been married all that long, describing their posh country wedding last year at Hallborough, and how all of Caleb’s family had come over for the wedding. It was the final family trip for their father before he passed away. I’d also meet Jonathan Blackstone and his wife Marie. Jonathan and Caleb’s dad had been close, and the backbone of the relationship between the American and British Blackstones.
It was a lot to take in, but I was grateful for the distraction. I was looking forward to meeting them all, they sounded so lovely, but truth be told, the country-manor-turned-B&B—Hallborough House—was what I found the most intriguing of all. There was something about the name of the house that rang a bell with me. I had my suspicions as to why, but couldn’t be sure until I saw it with my own eyes.
* * *
CALEB
Brooke had been quiet in the car on the drive up from London, as if she were deep in thought, or maybe she was just processing the emotions from being back in England after such a long period of a time. We hadn’t really done much at all since arriving in London, except for a quick stop to collect our warmer clothing, and a fantastic Christmas dinner last night in Covent Garden at a new place called Frog. In December, Hawaii and England are on such opposite ends of the thermometer, I’d called ahead and had a shopper pull together winter wardrobes for both of us, so we’d be set up for the wintry weather the minute the Gulfstream landed.
But it wasn’t the snowy weather causing my Brooke to tremble. I’d sensed excitement from her as we came through the gates of Hallborough and up the drive to the front of the stately manor house. I had to help her out first, so I could deal with paying the driver and our luggage, but when I turned back to her a few moments later, I got the best surprise of the day. My wife was grinning from ear to ear as she took selfies standing in front of Hallborough House.
“So, I gather you like the house.”
“It’s beautiful.” She gestured for me to come to her. “Take a selfie with me. I want pictures of us here.”
I complied, but had to wonder why she was so excited by the house itself. But before I could ask, I felt little arms wrapped around my legs from behind along with the excited thumps from wagging dog tails.
“Uncle Caleb!”
“Who is that grabbing me, and why are there wolves attacking?” I teased.
She popped her head around with a giggle. “It’s Zara, and they’re just dogs, not wolves. This is Rags and that one is Sir, Auntie Brynne’s dog,” she explained patiently with a pat to each dog’s head as she named them. “They like playing outside in the snow.”
“I don’t blame them. I’d play in the snow too if I had their fur.”
She just stared up at us in all her adorableness.
“Well, I am very sorry I didn’t recognize you right away because you’ve grown so much since I was here the last time.” I crouched down to her height so we could speak eye to eye. “How old are you again?” I asked.
“Five.” She held up one hand with her fingers splayed out.