Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Lydia didn't speak to Callum for the rest of the drive, which was fine with him.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking.

Except that wasn't entirely true. He'd wanted a way to tell Quinn about that arsehole from the plane without making Lydia look like a complete flake. Whether he liked Quinn's new sister-in-law, he didn't want the animosity between them to impede his friendship with Quinn. He'd warned Lydia about Sergio, after all, and maybe that was why he hadn't been able to stop himself from eavesdropping on the man while they'd been at immigration.

And then, after their respective phone calls, Callum had been thinking that maybe Lydia might just be as desperate as he was.

He'd picked up that phone call from his mother, against his better judgment, and one of the first things out of Mum's lips had been, "We have to talk about Sophia."

Mum hadn't even had the courtesy to wait until he'd arrived on the property to start with her relentless pushing. His anger had flared, and he hadn't been rational.

You're a damn idiot.

As he pulled into a space at La Hacienda Tropical , he blinked at the nicely paved car park—and the new sign for the hotel. The last time he'd been here it had been a hand-painted sheet of plywood. Sophia had painted it, though, so he hadn't told her he didn't like it.

The dense canopy of trees above the car park threw shadows onto the windscreen, cloaking him with a darkness similar to what he felt deeply inside him. The beaches on the Guanacaste Coast were often hilly and wild, with rainforests jutting right out onto the mixed sand beaches. His favorite beach in Costa Rica, Ostional, was a black sand beach north from here, a sight that made the land feel otherworldly.

La Hacienda was in Samara, a small beach town that still retained local charm. Even the foreign nationals who lived here were all ex-pats who'd fallen in love with the Costa Rican lifestyle. The hotel itself was on a quiet, more private area of the beach, closer to Puerto Carillo, about a twenty-minute walk from the main street of Samara.

Everything that his mother had loved, and why she'd wanted to live here.

He opened the trunk and helped Lydia get her bags out, then she hurried away without another word, leaving him staring at his own suitcase.

This is going to be a long trip.

Rubbing his burning eyes, he set his suitcase on the pavement, then put his laptop case on top of it. A line of ants made their way just past the wheel of his suitcase toward the edge of the pavement, and birds chirped and cried overhead. Funny how these minor details of everyday life here had receded far back into his memory.

He had no desire to catch up with Lydia or go to the office, but he had little choice, unless he wanted to sleep outside. Given that Costa Rica had more venomous snakes per square meter than almost any other country, he'd pass on that option.

As he dragged the suitcase toward the office, the hibiscus bushes brushed against his trousers. The bushes needed trimming, but he could also understand why they hadn't been—they were exotic and beautiful, just as his mother liked.

He reached the office and saw a hand-painted sign on the path that led down the steep stairs to the beach. Morning Yoga: This Way.

Some things never change.

Steeling himself for the encounter with his mother, his hand tightened around the handle of the suitcase. He wished he'd had the guts to tell Quinn about why he hadn't wanted the wedding held here, but it had been a bit too personal. Too deep. If Quinn had known, he likely wouldn't have pushed through with the idea. But once Quinn had booked the place, Callum hadn't wanted to change his mind.

Callum pushed the door open. He'd expected to see Lydia inside, but she wasn't here. Maybe Elle had told her to meet her somewhere else.

A footstep sounded, then a shadow passed through the back doorway. "Un momento," a female voice called, and Callum stiffened.

Bollocks.

Should he just go and come back later when his mum was in the office?

Seconds later, Sophia breezed through the back door, a warm smile on her gorgeous face. Her feet faltered for a split second, then she pushed on toward the counter. "Callum."

She's just as beautiful as ever. Five years had done nothing to change that. She had curves in all the right places, long, dark, and glossy hair—that she appeared to have highlighted—and tanned, olive skin that spoke to long days in the sun. Her dark eyes shifted over him, and she raised her chin. "I—um." She cleared her throat. "Let me get Tía ." Her English was near perfect, though she had an accent. Like his mother, Sophia had not only learned English in school but had plenty of practice speaking it now.

Maybe it was strange that his ex still called his mum by the affectionate "auntie" nickname, but she always had, so he'd never thought twice about it. When they'd been engaged, Sophia had switched to calling her "Mi suerte" a slang term for "my mother-in-law" or suegra . But that, at least, appeared to have stopped.

"It's fine." Callum crossed the space toward her, determined to dispense with the awkwardness. He'd have to see her many times during this trip. She meant nothing to him now, and he wouldn't pretend he still harbored old wounds. "I just need to check in and get my room key."

"Tía!" Sophia called out, ignoring him. She gave him a taut smile. "It's so good to see you, Callum. How are you?"

"Fantastic." He could do without the chitchat. He avoided looking her in the eye, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "I think my reservation is?—"

"Callum!" His mother came around the corner and rushed toward him. She threw her arms around his neck, tears in her eyes. "Cuánto deseaba verte." How I longed to see you. She held him tightly, as though nothing had ever changed between them.

In a small way, this was preferential to the other Latina mum way of handling a contentious situation—resentment and guilt.

When Callum pulled away, she framed his face in her hands, holding his cheeks. "You're even more handsome than you look in photos. I can't believe how tall you are now."

Callum groaned inwardly. This spectacle is ridiculous. He hadn't seen his mother since he was twenty-three—and he certainly hadn't grown since then, though he'd filled out. He'd been much leaner and lankier before. Before he'd traded endurance training for lifting weights.

Sophia had slipped away. Thank God.

"Good to see you, Mum." He forced the lie out through his teeth. Funny how the "mum" title had stuck. Dad had used it, so Isla and Callum had used it. That his Costa Rican mother was stuck with a British term for mother set by a man she'd divorced so long ago was sort of . . . ironic? He didn't know what it was.

"I kept praying you would come back here. Every day, I prayed." Mum wiped her face, leaving behind a streak of mascara on her cheek. She was smaller than him, by about a foot, only about five foot two. He'd taken after his father, while Isla was only a couple of inches taller than Mum. "I have your room at the house ready to go. Come, I'll show you." She spoke in a mixture of English and Spanish to him, sometimes blending so much "Spanglish" that Callum didn't really keep up with what language she'd said. He typically responded in English, regardless.

Callum didn't care to remind her of why he hadn't come back. Why he avoided her calls most of the time or had scheduled work trips for the couple of times she'd come to London to see Isla. And that Mum kept acting as though he should just forgive her already and just go right back to "home sweet home" was the only evidence he needed not to bring it up. They would never see eye to eye on what had happened with Sophia.

"I actually booked a room." He grimaced and took another step back. "But I appreciate the offer."

"Yes, I saw the reservation come through." Mum frowned. "But I canceled it and gave that room to someone else. There's no reason for you to pay good money to stay here when I have a place for you to stay for free."

Fuck, no.

Anger flushed through him, his gut churning.

This is why I should have told Quinn about my mum.

She would do something like this. He gritted his teeth, taking another step back as he tried to calm himself. He rubbed his jaw, feeling the stubble of the morning against his palm. "This—this is just classic , Mum."

His voice had come out louder than he'd intended, and Sophia poked her head through the doorway, a concerned expression on her face.

Mum shrank back, any visible joy in her demeanor vanishing.

The door to the office opened, and Lydia breezed through, a burst of fresher sea-salt air coming with her. "There you are!" Lydia sidled up to him.

Uhh . . . what?

Lydia hugged him from the side and whispered in his ear, "I couldn't tell her."

Callum stiffened, trying not to react. What the hell?

Elle and Quinn were just steps behind Lydia.

"Callum!" Elle's voice came through the door. She wore a confused look, her pretty face already tanned, her long blond hair cascading in perfect waves over her shoulders. Even her sundress seemed to shimmer as she made her way toward them even though they were inside the office.

Where did all her anger on that phone call go?

Quinn trailed behind her and gave Callum a jaunty smile. He shook hands with Callum. "You sod. You didn't breathe a word to me about this."

"I had no clue you two were together." Shock was written on Elle's face as she looked from one to the other.

Callum blinked, trying to catch up. He hadn't expected this. Given how adamant Lydia had been in the car about how much his proposal had disgusted her, he considered, for a split second, giving her away.

Now she wants my help? Fuck that. He wasn't in the mood to put himself on the line for anyone.

They hadn't had time to talk any of it through. He hadn't even given more than half a thought to the potential consequences.

But his mother was right there watching. As was Sophia.

Lesser of two evils.

He recovered as swiftly as he could and slipped his hand into Lydia's, interlacing their fingers.

A mischievous feeling rose in him despite it all.

She wants to play games . . . so be it.

"We wanted to surprise you, didn't we, darling?" He tugged Lydia closer. She glanced up, and those full, gorgeous lips parted.

Then he dropped a kiss to her mouth, his free hand curling around her waist.

He'd intended it to be nothing more than a playful peck, a small moment of revenge, but her lips were unexpectedly soft and pliant against his, and a jolt of electricity passed through him as they connected.

Lydia stepped on his toes—hard—leaning her weight against them.

Ouch. Right.

He pulled back, then turned back to see the surprised looks being leveled at him from everyone else in the room.

Then Elle's open jaw closed and she pulled Lydia into a fierce hug. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. My sister and Q's friend? That's amazing. Why didn't you say something at Christmas?"

Wow, Elle . . . is surprisingly happy. Is she being sincere?

Lydia's cheeks had turned pink, and she ran her fingers through her hair, giving Callum a nervous glance. "Yeah—um, well, it all just sort of happened recently."

"And we didn't want people at work to know yet, of course," he added.

Fuck. Work. With Aiden and some of his coworkers here, he couldn't just make this vanish after the trip. This was going to get overly messy quickly. They needed ground rules. Which was why he would have preferred to discuss this in the car rather than this last-minute show.

"Well, they're going to find out if you're staying together here," Quinn said with a smirk.

Together.

As Lydia's eyes widened, Callum glanced over at his mother and fought—hard—not to laugh. Or cackle.

This is perfect.

Yes, there was no reason for him not to be staying with his girlfriend, was there?

"You're staying with a woman? It's completely inappropriate," Mum muttered in Spanish. Callum silenced her with a hard look, and her lips pursed. His mum had an irritating habit of using Spanish to communicate secretly, as though other people couldn't read body language.

"I think Callum booked his own room, though, just for appearance's sake," Lydia was already saying.

Oh no. You wanted to do this. We're doing this. Liddy wasn't about to get the benefits without the work.

He squeezed Liddy's hand. "Actually, it turns out my mother canceled my reservation. But you're right, Quinn, this would be a good chance to let the cat out of the bag. I can just stay with Lydia." He turned toward his mum. "Mum, I was going to introduce you later, but since we're all here together, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Lydia Winnick."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. She's not happy about this rooming arrangement. At all. After a second, she released his hand and extended it toward his mother. "Call me Liddy. Nice to meet you, Se?ora Scott."

His mother's face grew less friendly as her gaze swept over Lydia. "It would be Reyes," she said in her accented English. "Se?ora Reyes. But you can call me Lety, like your sister does."

Mum doesn't like her.

Probably because she's ruining Mum's plans to have me stay with her. And get back together with Sophia.

Then his mother seemed to catch herself and smiled a bit more warmly. "Es un placer, amorcito. Anyone my Callum loves is welcome here."

Two-faced bullshite.

Callum's eyes darted toward the doorway where Sophia had been. She was gone once again.

The smidge of satisfaction he'd felt kissing Lydia faded.

"So you really don't have a room for Callum?" Lydia asked, her voice faltering.

Watching her squirm was surprisingly . . . satisfying?

"No, but he's welcome to stay at my house with me. I wouldn't want to upset your parents by?—"

"That won't be necessary, Mum. Lydia and I can stay together." Callum put his arm around Lydia's shoulder, then looked over at Elle and Quinn. If Lydia was doing this, then he needed to remind her of why before she got cold feet. "Speaking of which, I have some bad news to break, mate."

He sought Quinn's face, specifically, hoping the blow would be softer on his friend. "This morning when we were leaving Lid's flat, she put me in charge of grabbing the wedding dress, and I fucked up?—"

"Díos mío, Callum, do you have to use such ugly words?" Mum gasped.

Elle's eyes widened, and she stepped closer. "W-what do you mean, Callum?"

"I didn't bring the dress. We didn't realize until we were at the check-in desk, and by then, it was too late to go back for it. But I've already spoken to Isla, and she's going to bring it with her when she comes in a few days." Callum reached for Elle's hand with both of his. "Please forgive me. I'm so sorry. It's not Lydia's fault. She thought I had it and was so worried to tell you. But I promise I'll make it up to you both."

Lydia had paled. But the hard part was over. They'd told Elle about the dress not being here.

Elle looked over Callum's shoulder toward Lydia, the wheels of her mind clearly turning. "It's fine," she said at last, then looked back at Quinn. "Isn't it? It'll be fine, right? Your mom won't flip out?" In an unconvincing tone, which Callum wasn't sure showed if she was more upset than she was letting on, Elle laughed and added, "It's only my wedding dress."

Quinn slipped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. "My mum will be fine. I don't even think we need to tell her."

Elle relaxed against him. "Yes, I agree. She doesn't need to worry about one more thing."

Callum turned back toward Lydia.

If he didn't know any better, she looked guilty.

But also maybe a little thankful?

She met his eyes, and his mouth twisted in a smirk.

We're in it together now.

All that was left was to figure out how to handle this situation—and fast.