Red-Hot Honeymoon: The Honeymoon Arrangement / Marriage in Name Only? / The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi Rawlins
was Laura and why was Callie running from her? And why was he so curious to find out all he could about her? And why did he hate the stricken look he’d seen on her face when her brother had mentioned Laura’s name?
It was the journalist in him, he told himself as he accelerated away. It was his job to be curious—about people as well as places.
And apparently, he thought as he turned the corner, his job now also included deception and lying to himself as well.
Crazy.
In her lounge, Callie tossed her bag onto the couch and faced her brother, hands on her hips. ‘I don’t appreciate you rocking up on my doorstep unannounced and looking for a fight.’
Seb, tall and strong and looking as frustrated as she felt, pushed his fists into the pockets of his jeans. ‘When my sister storms out of her house—’
‘Your house.’
Seb glared at her interruption. ‘Her house and refuses to take my calls for three days I am allowed to rock up here and have it out with you. We’re all worried about you.’
‘So I hear,’ Callie retorted. ‘Apparently my life is now too good and I am too independent. I remember a time when you thought the exact opposite. There’s just no pleasing you, is there, big bro?’
‘That happened a long time ago and it has no bearing on this situation. Look, Ro and I—’
Ro and I. It had used to be Callie and Ro. They’d used to be a team—best friends. Had Seb driven a wedge between her and her best friend? Had he surpassed her in importance? It was natural if he had, but Rowan had always been her rock, her sounding board, her port in a storm. Now she was Seb’s.
Callie had never felt so alone in her life. Oh, wait, maybe she had. For the first couple of months after Laura had left. First couple of months, years, most of her life …
You’re being silly and sentimental and emotional, Callie thought as she walked over to the doors to the veranda and yanked them open, looking for some air. It had been a crazy couple of days—culminating with a very hot, very sexy, very confusing encounter in that dressing room—and she was exhausted and played out. Ro was still Ro, and she still loved her, but it just didn’t feel as if anyone was standing in her corner right now.
But that was okay. It was time to pull on her big girl panties and kick some ass. And her brother was a great target.
Callie leaned against the frame of the now open door and turned back to him. ‘Look, Seb, I absolutely understand and respect your right to talk to your mother, and I’d appreciate it if you’d respect my right not to.’
‘She’s your mother too. Don’t you at least want to know why she left?’ Seb demanded.
So like Seb, Callie thought. Analytical and clear-thinking. If he understood the cause he could make sense of the problem. For her it was a lot more simple—cut and dried.
‘She left you and me—bottom line. I don’t care what her reason was. She left. When you have kids you put them first, not yourself.’
‘In one of her letters she said that her life was overwhelming—that was why she retreated to her room, why she eventually left.’
Callie threw her hands up in the air in exasperation at his explanation. ‘Overwhelming? God, Seb, she was a stay-at-home mother with a housekeeper and a rich husband who spoilt her rotten. That’s a stupid excuse. There are millions of women all over the world who have a lot less, who live in terrible circumstances, and who don’t walk out on their kids.’
Seb shrugged. ‘I don’t disagree with you, but I still think that I need to meet with her—that you need to meet with her. To hear her side and to find closure, if nothing else.’
‘I don’t need closure. I’m perfectly fine,’ Callie said stubbornly.
‘All your issues are rooted in Laura leaving,’ Seb stated, still pushing.
Callie ground her teeth together, trying to keep a hold on her bubbling temper. ‘I do not have issues!’
Seb snorted. ‘Honey, you delude yourself. You’re crazy independent because you refuse to rely on anyone in case they let you down. You’re consistently single because you don’t trust anyone to be there long-term.’
From the couch Callie heard the strident ring tone of her mobile and she walked over to answer the call, grateful for the interruption and the opportunity to get hold of her temper before she slapped her brother.
She saw Rowan’s name on the display and barked a tense greeting.
‘My fiancé there?’ Rowan asked, after saying hello.
Callie answered in the affirmative and Rowan ordered her to put her on speaker phone. Callie shrugged, did what she said and held up the mobile in her hand.
‘Seb!’ Rowan’s voice sounded frustrated. ‘What did I say to you?’
Seb grimaced. ‘I know, but—’
‘Leave your sister alone. If she doesn’t want to meet Laura, then it’s her decision—not yours.’
‘But—’
Rowan didn’t give him a chance to explain. ‘We spoke about this. We agreed that you would leave her alone! God!’
‘But—’
‘Respect her right to make her own decisions, Hollis.’
After that bombshell Rowan told Callie to take her off speaker phone, and Callie lifted her phone to her ear, watching as her brother threw his hands up in the air.
‘As per usual, you two have ganged up on me. I’m out of here,’ Seb stated, before turning and heading for the front door.
‘He’s left and he’s not happy,’ Callie told Rowan, not feeling quite so alone as before.
Callie could imagine Rowan’s shrug. ‘So? I might love him to distraction, but he’s still messing with my best friend and nobody—not even him—does that. I’m the only one with that privilege.’
Callie felt tears prick her eyes. ‘I love you, you know.’
‘I love you too, kiddo.’ Rowan sighed. ‘I just need to ask you one question.’
‘Okay.’
‘Do you know what you’re doing, Cal?’
Callie sank into the corner of the couch and tipped her head back. ‘I don’t have the foggiest idea. Can you come over? I need you.’
‘On my way.’
Maybe, Callie thought as she placed her mobile on the couch next to her, she wasn’t quite as alone as she’d thought.
Callie, her bags in a pile next to the door, pulled open the front door and sucked in her breath as she caught sight of her fake husband. Finn was dressed for travelling in a pair of lightweight grey linen shorts and a black and white checked shirt over a snow-white T-shirt that skimmed his broad chest. His arms were muscled and tanned, and the only jewellery he wore was a high-tech watch that could probably launch spaceships.
His eyes widened when he saw her. ‘You look fantastic, fake wife.’
Callie grinned at him. ‘Thank you.’
Callie knew that she looked good in the pink-orchid-coloured swing dress with its copper leather belt and drawstring neck. She’d kept her accessories and make-up minimal, and she wore flat, gold sequinned sandals. She knew she looked the part of a stylish woman about to embark on her honeymoon.
Did she have everything for her bogus honeymoon? Clothes—check. Passport—check. Accessories and toiletries—check. Jewellery, simple, classy, to go with all her outfits—check.
Except