Heart Song Anthology, Carolyn Faulkner [simple ebook reader .TXT] 📗

that, flushed as she was. She was stunned by the sheer excitement she felt. She did feel like she was 20 again. Will Doug? Was this all for naught? If he rejected her tonight, at least she’d have her answer. Forget separate bedrooms. She’d just leave for good.

On a whim, Carla checked the mini-fridge, not at all surprised to find champagne chilling alongside two crystal flutes. Looking up at the fan again, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Gable. Now shoo. No peeping, you hear?”

There was a tentative knock on the door. When she opened it, Doug’s jaw dropped. “What are– You look amazing!”

Carla pulled him inside the room. “Well, don’t just stand there in the hall.” She handed him the bottle. “Will you do the honors?”

Doug couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as he unwrapped the foil and untwisted the wire cage around the cork. When he pushed the cork with his thumbs, it made a satisfying pop on release over the sink, with no precious liquid spilled. Carla held the flutes for him to pour, aware that Doug was in somewhat of a state of shock.

When he put the bottle down, she handed him his glass and held hers high. “A toast!”

“To what, exactly?” Doug asked, his voice strained.

They clinked their flutes together gently. Carla shrugged. “To Valentine’s Day. To us. To being twenty again and starting all over?”

They each took a sip. Doug slowly took her flute from her and set both down on the bureau, then put his arms around her. “How about to all of the above?”

Carla drew in a breath and raised her lips to his. It had been so long since he’d given her a kiss of any kind. Even perfunctory goodbye pecks had ceased years ago. And now, their mouths took over, muscle memory returning as tongues danced. Doug’s hands held her back firmly. Has it been too long? But no, there it was. Carla made a little sound of relief as Doug’s erection pressed into her.

Doug stopped kissing her long enough for a chuckle. “I guess it’s not always true that if you don’t use it, you lose it,” he said softly.

Carla reached down to massage him through his jeans, then unzipped them. “Let’s make sure he remembers what to do.”

The next morning, Carla and Doug walked downstairs laughing and holding hands. It was still early, but Deidre had dozed off on the little cot in the back room. When she heard the laughter, she walked out to greet them with a yawn.

“Javier didn’t stay?” Carla called. Doug was right beside her, his hand at her back, as if he couldn’t bear to be further away from her.

Deidre raised her eyebrows, and Carla knew immediately why. She and Doug had never been affectionate in public, not at the Royal, not anywhere. No wonder the girl was surprised. As if suddenly remembering, Deidre held her left hand out and wiggled it about so that the little diamond on her ring finger could catch the morning light.

Carla oohed and ahhed appropriately. “Congratulations. And thank you for last night. It took some doing, but it was,” she said, glancing at Doug, “a memorable Valentine’s Day for us too.”

Deidre giggled. “I’ll say. It was quiet down here, though. There was one check-out maybe an hour ago.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh. My. Gosh. That was the handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my life. He looked like a movie star! He was all dressed up too. A tux. Said he was making the most important appearance of his life and he wanted to look his best.”

Carla swallowed hard and when she spoke, her voice sounded odd even to her own ears. “Did he say anything?”

“Oh yeah. He had me write it down so I didn’t get it wrong. Said to give it to you when I saw you.”

Doug cleared his throat. “Would you care to explain why a movie star is leaving notes for my wife?”

Carla took the note from Deidre’s hand and unfolded it, turning so that they couldn’t read it: My work here is done. I finally got a promotion out of limbo. Thanks for helping me make it. C.G.

“Are you okay, honey?” Doug wiped a tear from Carla’s cheek.

Carla hugged him enthusiastically. “I’m fine. I think we’re all going to be just fine.”

9

Epilogue

The ballroom of the Royal Poinciana had never looked more beautiful. The double doors were closed as Carla and Deidre walked around the room making last-minute adjustments. China, crystal, and silverware gleamed atop white linen tablecloths. Sprigs of lavender mixed with white roses were at each table, a contrast to the Valentine’s decor out in the lobby.

“Can you believe it’s been two years exactly since Javier and I got engaged?” Deidre said as she arranged a place setting more precisely. She sighed. “He assures me that we can set a date for the fall, though. We’ve both finally got enough money saved.” She looked a bit wistfully around the room. “Not that our wedding will be this posh, but it will be nice. Mama insists on a church wedding, of course, and the restaurant wants us to have the reception there.”

Carla stood with her hands on her hips, surveying things with a practiced eye. A string ensemble would arrive momentarily. The bride and groom, along with numerous guests, had filled the hotel to full capacity and then some. A few rooms that had not been decorated for use had been hastily put together just for the occasion. It had taken a little doing, but Doug had helped out with last minute repairs and trips to various stores so that everything was ready.

She’d arranged for everything: the flowers, the minister, the music, the food. She and the Royal staff had pulled out all the stops for the decorations, but it was tasteful, understated, elegant. This couple had waited a long time for this day and she wanted it to be perfect. In fact, when she and Doug retired