Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

"Did you have fun tonight?" Liddy asked Elle, leaning against her as they walked arm in arm toward the bungalows.

"So much fun. I mean, it's probably less fun than you all had—you know, not being able to drink and all—but it was perfect. Way better than a silly rehearsal dinner."

"Good." Liddy stopped as the paths split by the pool. They had different walkways to take, and it was really the first time all night she'd been alone with Elle. She sighed, then hugged her. "I'm thrilled for you."

Elle held her close, settling her chin against Liddy's shoulder. "Lid, I'm sorry if I was a jerk earlier today. Or if I've been awful during the past few days. I'll admit I was jealous. You were spending so much time with Callum, and I've barely gotten to see you the last year and you see him every day." She pulled away, straightening. "But I'm so proud of you. You're so independent and amazing."

"Yeah, well, my sister set a high bar of achievement to look up to. Don't forget, I'm not the famous one."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Elle stepped toward her bungalow. "I should check to see if Quinn is back. Hopefully, the men didn't get him too wasted tonight. I don't need my mother-in-law . . ." She paused, then gave an exaggerated shrug. "You know what? I don't care. It doesn't matter."

Liddy laughed. "See? You're learning. Speaking of Quinn, though, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Can you tell him that while I appreciate him trying to be a good ‘big brother,' just let Callum and I figure this thing we've got going on together?"

A hint of a smile touched Elle's lips. "You've got it. Like I said, you're all grown up now."

"But I'll always need my big sis."

"And I'll always need my little sis."

Liddy hugged her one more time, then they parted. Liddy strolled slowly toward her bungalow, searching her clutch for the room key. There had been a break in the rain for the evening, but clouds appeared to be rolling over the stars again. Everything in the canopy of trees around the bungalows was damp and glistened with droplets. The monkeys and birds were quiet for the night.

A soft snore broke the silence as she reached the bungalow.

Callum was curled up in the hammock, one hand hanging over the edge. He didn't look entirely comfortable.

But he's here.

That filled her with a happiness that made her chest hurt.

Going closer to him, she squatted, then swiped her hand across his cheek. Lowering her lips to his, she kissed him softly. "Hey, sleeping beauty."

Callum blinked, then pushed his shoulders back. He smelled of alcohol, which didn't surprise her. Just how drunk is he?

"Didn't make it inside?" she teased as he sat up straight, almost dazedly.

"Not quite." Rather than get up, he reached for her and pulled her onto his lap, one leg at a time so that she was straddling him.

She relaxed into him as the hammock swayed slightly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Miss me?"

"You have no idea." His hand had found its way up her dress and deftly unhooked her bra. "I've been waiting here for you for ages."

She chuckled against his jaw, sucking in a breath as his palms slid around to her breasts. "We're outside you know," she whispered. "Someone could see us."

"It's dark," he countered, making slow circles with his palms over her nipples. "And we can be quiet." His lips found hers, and he drank from her mouth with raw intensity. He tasted like whisky, not that she minded.

Her pulse was already speeding, her desire for him mounting.

"Are you drunk?"

"Just a bit." His hands left her breasts and pushed her skirt up.

"Liar. You're wasted."

"I promised Quinn I'd have his shots so he wouldn't be hungover tomorrow." He nuzzled her neck, his breath hot against her jawline. His fingers found the wetness of her entrance, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "God, you weren't lying. You're not wearing a stitch." His fingers traced against the slick, tender flesh there, and she gripped him tighter, hot lust surging through her.

"No foreplay?"

"Foreplay happened hours ago when you teased me. I've been hard thinking about what I'm going to do to you ever since."

They relied on his balance and stability to stay on the hammock, but somehow it seemed to help the rhythm of his movements. Her lips parted over his, and she drew short, shallow gasps as he locked eyes with her, watching her with a fiercely intense gaze.

Somehow, he'd freed himself from his zipper and pushed his pants down. He slid inside her, still holding her gaze.

Oh, yes.

"Callum."

The way he watched her made her raw with hunger for him and her legs locked around his waist.

This is crazy.

Anyone could walk by. At any moment.

Her lips and face and ears were burning hot, her breath still mingling with his.

But I don't care.

I want him.

I want us.

"I can't let you go, Liddy." He closed his eyes, his forehead against hers. "I don't want to."

"So don't." Her lips skimmed his throat. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't."

He's not making any sense.

He crushed her in his arms, locking her hips against his, his hold so tight that she could barely do more than grind against him.

Then he didn't say anything else, and they were both lost to the pleasure, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt so natural, so perfect. And when they both came, his hold didn't lessen. He sank his lips into the crook of her neck, his heart pounding against her chest, his breath ragged.

His forehead pressed into her shoulders, and she could hardly breathe.

He was drunk, and that could be a part of it, but the way he held her fiercely also worried her.

"Callum, are you okay?" she asked, pulling back enough that she could draw a deep breath. "What's going on?"

He pulled himself out of her on a wince. With a gentle push of her knee, he brought her onto the hammock beside him, then lay back with her.

He didn't speak for a minute, the gentle rocking of the hammock and the creak of its ropes the only sound she could hear through the rain.

"My mother cheated on my father."

Oh.

Okay . . .

Did he just find out?

Maybe he'd talked to his mom at long last.

"Then . . . that's why they got divorced?"

"I'm sorry. I sound like a fool, I know. You just said earlier that you didn't know if something deeper had ruined me."

She cringed. He wasn't completely coherent and that she was certain had to do with the alcohol.

"That's not entirely how I said it but?—"

"It turns out Sophia's mum was my mum's lover. Isla told me. Which, the more I think about it, makes it even more sick and twisted because it's like Sophia was my stepsister. That's why my mum couldn't choose between us. She views her like a daughter."

Oh, wow. Yeah, that would be a lot to take.

"But she wasn't your stepsister. You didn't know. You can't beat yourself up over that." Liddy interlaced her fingers with his. "Are you upset because you never knew your mom was . . . what, bi?"

"No." Callum shook his head. "No, that doesn't make a difference. It doesn't matter who she left for. Who she cheated with. The effect was the same. It blew up my life. My family." He cleared his throat. "I barely got to see my sister, except on holidays. I spent years wondering if I had something to do with their breakup. I thought if I had been a better child, my parents would have stayed together—they sent me to a boarding school. Almost as though they didn't want me around. Then years not having a real home. I still don't have a home. The last time I did, I was nine years old."

His words filled her with a profound sadness. She loved living in England, but she also knew that, no matter what she was going through, no matter how much she might not always see eye to eye with her parents, she could go home. Her roots were deep. And not because of the house where she'd grown up—her parents had sold that when Elle had bought them a better place.

But because of the people.

"Ever heard the expression ‘home isn't a place'? That's what I've found, anyway. I'm home whenever I'm with the people I love the most in the world. Wherever that may be," she said in a gentle voice.

The hammock swayed in a breeze, then a light sprinkling of rain started again. They were under the cover of the porch, but the mist dampened her skin.

"Maybe . . . but I don't have that. The thing of it is that Isla does. Isla was miserable at the boarding school she was sent to, and Mum insisted to my dad that she come live with her instead. So Isla spent years here. And now my mum is looking to sell it because the business isn't doing well. Isla is sentimental and wants to buy it, and she doesn't have the money, so she wants me to lend it to her."

Her heart ached for him.

He had every reason to be angry and not want to lend his sister the money. Not that anger was serving him well.

"Would she be able to pay you back, do you think?"

"It's not that I don't trust her. I'm not certain she's aware of the extent of the changes that would need to happen to make La Hacienda profitable, though. Or that she has the personality to run this place—she's a dreamer, like my mum. But I also don't want her to lose the place she considers home."

She rested her head on his chest, tracing the outline of the tattoos on his forearm. The Callum that had inked his body in soccer team tattoos, she imagined, had probably been a different person. But what he'd told her also made her realize that he'd probably lost another sense of home and belonging when he'd lost his dream to play soccer.

And when he broke up with Sophia.

Which explains a lot, really.

His sense of worth had been shot down over and over again. His sense of place. And belonging.

She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

She'd struggled with belonging, too. All my life.

That was why she felt so unmoored today when she felt like an outsider to her own family.

He doesn't even have that.

"You know, Sergio actually mentioned something interesting to me earlier. He said he'd spent the time while we were away today talking to some American who's interested in buying the land. I didn't quite get that he meant this land , but that must have been what he meant."

Callum released a guttural sigh. "Shite. Then I don't have as much time to decide as I thought if my mum is already lining up buyers. I don't want Isla to lose everything because of me."

This must be so heart-wrenching for him.

"I can't tell you what to do with your money," she said gently. "But I think you've spent a long time running from some of the people and places who made you what you are today. Your mom may not deserve a second chance or a relationship with you—that's up to you to decide—but sometimes facing the things that have made us feel like outsiders is the only way to move forward. You should face your fears and talk to her." She splayed her hand on his chest. "Like you made me face my fears, Coach."

He gave one light chuckle. "I didn't make you do anything. I simply suggested."

"True. But you helped me believe in myself. Helped me be fearless, and I'm thankful to you for that."

She reached up and kissed him, then rolled off the opposite side of the hammock. "Come, Callum. Let's go to bed."

She held out a hand for him.

Callum turned his head toward her, his eyes roving over her figure. He took her hand.