Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,130
her messages. His phone had gone black again, and now he sat in darkness. Was it possible he didn’t want to hear from her at all? Were her fears founded—had he given up on them?
No sense holding back now, though, was there? She’d come this far—she’d never forgive herself if she left without talking to him.
She continued walking but stopped again when he clicked his phone on and started typing. Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Happy birthday, Lou. I hope all your wishes come true.
Her eyes clouded over, and she tucked the phone away. “I hope so too,” she called out.
She couldn’t see his face, but she saw him stand. “Louisa?”
“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she approached.
When she reached him, he tore his gaze from hers and fished his wallet out of his pocket. He opened it and pulled out a small, folded white napkin. “I made a promise.”
In a flash, every detail of that day rushed back. It had been his idea. His way of giving them something to look forward to, of reassuring her that no matter what, they’d find their way back to each other on this exact day.
Her heart beat so loud and fast against her rib cage, she had to resist the urge not to clutch her chest in a sad attempt to quiet it down. She looked at him. “You came.”
He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to the inside of her palm. “Of course I did.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He shrugged lightly. “You’re here now—that’s all that matters.”
“I’m sorry for a lot of things,” she said.
“Can you tell me about them later?” He took her face in his hands. “Right now, all I really want to do is kiss you.”
“Okay. Kissing now, talking later.”
He kissed her tentatively at first, as if he were remembering how—but it didn’t take long for the memories to kick in, for the kiss to turn hurried, like their absence had made them both hungry for each other, for the love they shared, for the promise of a future.
She pulled away, her breath ragged, and let her forehead fall to his. “I missed you.”
He wrapped his arms around her the way she’d dreamed he would.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She couldn’t hold him close enough.
“I screwed up, leaving like I did,” he said.
“I screwed up, pushing you away.”
He shook his head. “I understand why you did it, but I just realized our families are going to have to figure it out.”
She took a step back. “I think they are figuring it out. Your mom came to see me. She’s the reason I’m here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper Marissa had given her. “She gave me this.”
Cody opened and read it, then met Louisa’s eyes.
“She said she wanted us to be together,” Louisa said. “She said I make you happy.”
His lips tugged into a gentle smile. “You do make me happy.”
“Can I keep making you happy for the rest of my life?”
“Did you just propose to me?” He closed the gap between them.
Her eyes widened. “No!”
He grinned. “Bummer.”
She smiled back. “Happy birthday, Cody Boggs.”
He answered with a kiss so deep she felt it in every part of her body, making it a very happy birthday indeed.
PROLOGUE
Dear Emily,
As I write this, you are approximately six days, three hours, and thirty-two minutes old. We’ve been home from the hospital for four days, and I haven’t been able to stop looking at you the entire time. You sleep in a bassinet next to my bed, and I lie awake at night, listening to you breathe.
To be honest, listening to you breathe is all I do. I feel like it’s my sole responsibility to make sure that continues. It’s a little scary, if I’m honest. And I’m always honest. You see, you came as a bit of a surprise to me, and I guess that’s why I’ve been so nervous lately, in the days leading up to your birth. Because I don’t want to mess anything up.
I don’t want to mess you up.
People always talk about how wonderful it is to have a baby, but no one ever talks about how terrifying it is too. You see, I’m a little bit terrified, and I’m not sure who else to tell. I’m pretty sure my mother would use that fear against me somehow, so I’ll only share it with you, my little girl.