Page 89 of Banter & Blushes #1

ARWYN

M onday morning, I woke up to a melodic chorus of birdsong through the open window. A slow smile took hold of my lips and spread until they were stretched into a wide grin.

This place was heaven. Salt Mist Cottage was roomy with a cozy vibe and decorated with a vintage seaside theme.

Shiplap in the main areas, Victorian wallpaper and fixtures in the bedrooms and loft.

The master bath even had a clawfoot tub!

And this resort— this resort! It had everything I loved—charm, nature trails, horses, and the ocean.

The seafood at dinner last night had been everything the reviews promised and more.

Crane’s Cove was made for romance and nostalgia. Piney Point Road jutted out at the end of the Cliff Walk’s private beach, bisecting the crescent-shaped cove and the town’s marina. From drone pictures, it looked like the top half of a heart.

Living in Colorado my whole life, I’d only seen the ocean a handful of times when my father was working on special assignments. Dad was a soldier turned wildlife photographer, and I loved every moment we’d spent exploring together. He died several years ago, doing what he loved.

I dressed quickly in an ivory cotton top with puffed short sleeves and pulled out a skirt I’d made from thrifted handkerchiefs.

When Zaki purchased the RV for the cross-country trek, he’d had the bedroom in the back renovated with a sewing machine console and cabinets for all my supplies.

I’d been teaching the girls how to sew. We were making our dresses for the wedding as we traveled.

Just a few more weeks and I’d be Mrs. Zaki Marsch!

Everything was set: a beautiful church in Montreal, a gown made from my mother’s and grandmothers’ dresses, and Frozen- inspired dresses for Isla and Amelie that they’d designed and “helped” me sew.

The only thing missing would be my mother.

She had a highly classified job with the military overseas and couldn’t get away, but she said she’d try to stream in if she could.

It’d been that way since I was six. Mom was brilliant, spoke several languages, and was an intimidating figure with her trademark tight auburn bun, cat-eye glasses, and stern expression. I missed her, of course, but she was saving the world.

Humming to myself as I twisted my hair up into a loose bun, I was thankful to the birds.

The extra minutes before the alarm trilled gave me more time to run through and visualize today’s plans.

I pulled tendrils over my ears and twisted them around my fingers.

My diamond daisy engagement ring caught the sunlight streaming in and reflected on the mirror.

Once I was ready, I left the room and tiptoed up to the second-floor loft, glad that the shag-covered steps were new and didn’t squeak.

Water pooled in my eyes as I took in Zaki on the pullout sofa and the girls in their bunks, still adorably asleep.

Laffy and Vennie snoozed at their feet. The girls’ beds had drawer steps to access the top bunk, which the dogs loved to climb but refused to descend.

My family, I thought. How had they become my whole world so fully and quickly?

Zaki held the sheet at his waist, his biceps peeking out from a thin white cotton tee.

He was smiling, and I wondered if he was pretending to be asleep for the girls’ benefit.

Stubble poked up around his trim auburn beard, turning my thoughts to our good-night kiss, when it lightly scraped my skin.

His unruly ginger hair, which I’d discovered had become quite untamable in the summer humidity, lent him an extra air of boyishness. And those blue eyes—fathomless.

In the top bunk, Amelie was tangled in a mess of covers, her arms straight up next to her head. On the bottom, Isla was tucked in exactly as I’d left her the night before. I’d be surprised if she’d moved an inch.

“Psst.”

The Westies’ heads popped up. I shushed them and turned back to Zaki, who’d opened his eyes and was waving me over.

I crossed over to him, and he caught hold of my hand, tugging me closer.

I sat on the mattress, and his arms closed around me, pulling me down until my head rested on his massive chest.

“Good morning,” he whispered into my hair. “Don’t wake them up just yet.” His low, rumbly morning voice held just a touch of British accent, which made me all swoony.

“Not a chance if this is the alternative,” I whispered back. “I can’t wait to marry you and wake up in your arms every morning.”

“I can’t either. Remember that thought later, okay? ”

I raised my head and studied his face. “What are you up to? You better not be planning any pranks, Zaki Marsch!”

He just grinned back at me, so I kissed his nose and shook my head.

The girls began to stir, and Zaki stole one more kiss as I attempted to extract myself from his arms. The alarm clock on the end table separating the sofa from the bunks sounded, and I was standing up straight when Isla’s eyes flicked open.

“Mornin’, Isles,” Zaki lazily greeted her. He folded his arms behind his head. “Ams, you awake up there?”

Amelie sprang up to a sitting position and blinked several times. I chuckled softly. This girl always had a hard time falling asleep. Like mine, her brain insisted upon making lists as soon as her head hit the pillow. It was hard to turn that off.

“Wynnie!” Isla greeted me. “It’s camp day!”

“I need my new camp diary!” Amelie shouted. Laffy howled with her. “Daddy! I left it in the RV!”

“We can grab it before we walk over,” Zaki assured her. “Are you ready to get ready?”

“Yes!” Both girls scrambled out of bed, and I walked over to assist Vennie to the ground.

We had plenty of time to get ready and for the girls to eat breakfast, but they moved at warp speed.

Thirty minutes later, we were saying goodbye to Laffy and Vennie and locking the cottage door.

I’d found the perfect sun hat in Charleston—wide-brimmed straw with a black ribbon around the base and a hole in the top for my hair to poke through.

It fit my vintage Edwardian-inspired style and was functional, too.

Amelie retrieved her diary from the RV and fell into step with Isla, just ahead of us.

“It’s my turn to read cabin names,” Amelie insisted. “Pinecone Perch … Twilight Retreat …Winking Lobster Lodge! That’s funny!”

“Look!” Isla pointed. “There’s a lobster hanging next to the front door. And it’s winking!”

We all laughed, and Zaki squeezed my waist, pulling me closer to him.

The walk through the resort’s grounds was lovely.

We followed the signs to the stables, then turned toward a covered pavilion, much like the one by our cabin.

JC and Meggie were there, each holding tablets.

Two girls about Isla and Amelie’s age sat at the nearest picnic table sculpting Play-Doh.

“We’re the third and fourth ones here!” Isla squealed, taking Amelie’s hand in hers. They ran straight for the pavilion, causing all four pairs of eyes to look up.

“Meggie!” The girls ran toward the tall, athletic brunette, who’d styled her long hair in a fancy braid. I gave Isla two days before she asked me to do her hair that way.

Meggie opened her arms and bent down to embrace the twins. “Look at you two! Jean shorts and Frozen T-shirts!” She lowered her voice. “This is really Isla and Amelie, right, not fake girls pretending to be them? ”

Amelie giggled. “It’s really us. You can’t wear princess dresses to camp, Meggie.”

“Just making sure it’s really you.” She gave them another hug. “How is your trip going so far?”

“Great. Where’s Flynn? Isn’t he helping with the camp kids?” Isla asked.

“He’s in charge of the rising sixth graders,” Meggie replied. “You’ll see him around.” She leaned in close like she was going to reveal a secret. “They start their day at the pool. It’s freezing. Way too cold for me. But not for someone whose job is on ice.”

Isla giggled. Amelie smiled and pointed to the girls at the table. “Can we talk about Flynn later and make friends now?”

JC barked a laugh, then cleared his throat. He strolled over to the sandy-haired girl who was obviously his mini-me. “This is my daughter Bianca and my niece Paisley.”

“She’s my cousin!” Bianca beamed. “And look—my other cousins are almost here.” She pointed to a spot behind us, where a boy and a girl were running at top speed toward us. “Hallie and Harlan are twins, too!”

Several yards back, a suntanned woman in her early thirties with long dark hair held hands with a police officer who could have been Craig Melvin’s doppelganger, dimples and all. His name badge read D. Saunders.

JC introduced us with an amused grin. “Damon is my wife’s sister’s husband Matt’s cousin, and Shelby here is my bestie since forever.”

“Matt’s my dad!” Paisley chimed in.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said.

“Pleasure’s ours,” Damon drawled in a Southern accent. “Welcome to Crane’s Cove.” He turned to Zaki. “Sorry about your Cup loss. You sign with Montreal yet?”

“Still deliberating,” Zaki replied. Anyone who followed hockey was on edge wondering what superstar Zaki Marsch was going to do.

His agent had been in talks with Montreal for months, and they’d made a fair offer, but Zaki was seriously considering retirement if he couldn’t go back to Denver.

He really didn’t want to play for any other team, and the Edge would sign him back in a heartbeat.

But with Viki, his ex, living in Montreal and now recovered from her surgeries, he’d rarely see the girls if he returned there since they’d be sharing custody again in a few weeks.

Shelby tipped her chin toward Isla. “Like I tell my kids, let it go and give it to God.”

“Spoken like a true pastor’s daughter.” Damon grinned. “Such wisdom!”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Or too much Frozen.”

“There’s never too much Frozen!” Isla insisted.