“You’ll see them when we get back.”
I looked at Jo, standing with Cam. “I’m going to kill him already.”
“Please don’t.” Cam hugged me hard. “I quite like him.”
“At least someone does.” Nate clamped his arm around Cam and gave him a half-man-hug while Jo and I said good-bye.
“Have an amazing time,” she whispered, squeezing my biceps. “This is just what you both need.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling properly reassured for the first time in months. “It is.”
“Duck a lot, and loudly.” She grinned. “For all of us parents back home who have to duck quietly.”
And that was how I said good-bye to my friends and got in a taxi to the airport with my husband: with a lot of laughter and a lot of love.
I stared at Nate as we sat in the backseat of the taxi, him looking excited for the first time in ages. Excited to spend time alone with me.
Maybe forty wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter Five
We’d gotten to the airport just in time to catch our flight to London. In London, Nate had booked us into a hotel at Heathrow because our flight to Philadelphia didn’t leave until morning. When I asked him why he didn’t just book us an early flight to London, he told me it was because he wanted to surprise me with the trip at the party and have us leave right away so I didn’t have time to think about leaving the kids for ten days.
He knew me so well.
And did I mention my wonderful husband booked us to fly business class? He’d spoiled me.
At the hotel, we got settled in and then went to the bar where I accidentally got sozzled. Accidentally, you ask?
Well, you see, since having kids I only ever have a social drink with my friends, and even then it’s only ever one or two. Knowing I didn’t have Lily and January to look after that evening or the next morning, I decided, “What the hell?” I had too many glasses of champagne and only vaguely remembered Nate getting me into bed at the hotel, before passing out.
Feeling hungover and guilty the next morning, I apologized profusely, knowing Nate probably meant for us to have wild monkey sex in the privacy of our hotel room.
“Liv.” He’d laughed, handing me ibuprofen and a big glass of water as I sat up in bed. “It’s your birthday. You can do whatever the hell you want, and frankly, it was nice to see you just let loose and enjoy yourself last night.”
I groaned and grabbed my head. “I think I enjoyed myself too much.”
“Aye, well, a hangover on the plane might not be the best thing ever, but you can sleep it off on the flight.”
Indeed I could because we were flying business where the seat turned into a bed! Despite feeling like crap, I was excited. That was until I swung my feet out of bed and the world started spinning.
“Okay, we need to get some food in you.”
“Ugh.” The thought of food made me want to die. “Let’s just get ready and we’ll see about everything else.”
I’d gotten ready as fast as I could and my husband took me by the hand as we made our way from the hotel to our terminal. I gripped his hand tightly and leaned into him, letting him take some of my weight since I was feeling more than a little “fragile.”
Thankfully, everything went smoothly for our flight to Philadelphia. Once onboard I felt well enough to force Nate into a selfie as we sat adjacent and facing toward one another in our S-shaped business “suite.” The flight attendant had offered us a glass of champagne, to which I’d balked, and Nate accepted orange juice for us both in its stead. I’d forced him to clink his glass with mine and smile into the camera so I could send the selfie to Sylvie. She would show the girls.
It was an eight-and-a-half-hour flight to Philly and I didn’t sleep nearly as much as I’d hoped I would. We arrived there at eight in the evening our time and three o’ clock Philly time. It was strange having left home in the early afternoon only to arrive in Philly in the afternoon. When we landed we then had a two-hour drive to our destination, a small boardwalk town called Hartwell.
Exhausted, I snuggled up to Nate in the back seat of the car he’d hired from a private chauffeur company. “Why Hartwell and not Rehoboth?”
“Do you remember that one-year-anniversary shoot I did?”
I smiled. “How could I forget?” It may have been unkind but I’d found it hilarious and over the top that a couple would pay to have a photo shoot done to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary. I thought it was jumping the gun a little. In those first few years you’re still in the “can’t keep your hands off each other” phase. There was really nothing to feel triumphant about. Once you had kids and were trying to juggle parenting responsibilities and full-time jobs and finances and any other bits of crap life threw at you, and you managed to get to ten years and were still in love, then you could celebrate, right?
“Well, they had their honeymoon in Hartwell. They made it sound so great I investigated. It sounded like the perfect place. It’s the end of the summer here so it’s warm but not too hot, the kids are back at school so it’s quiet this time of year. It sounded like a good place for us to completely relax and just be with each other. Rehoboth would be busier. Plus, I wanted this to be somewhere new for both of us. Somewhere we can make memories.”
I snuggled deeper into him. “Perfect.”
The last thing I remember was the feel of his lips on my temple before being shaken gently awake. “What? What is it? Are the girls okay?”
My vision cleared and my husband’s handsome face was smiling down into mine. “We’re here, babe.”
And then it came back to me. Oh. Right. We were on vacation. I glanced around the car, confused. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Aye. Come on. Let’s get you settled at the inn.”
“Inn?”
When I got out of the car, the first thing that hit me was the smell of ocean and salt in the air. It settled a mixture of peace and excitement over me, because the smell of the seaside was synonymous with being on vacation.
My husband and I were on vacation alone!
I still couldn’t get my head around it.
I found us parked in a small parking lot with a sign on the wall in front that said: FOR HART’S INN GUESTS ONLY. The polite driver got our suitcases out of the trunk and Nate took both suitcases, despite my protests, and started toward the stairs and a ramp that led up onto a boardwalk. I followed him between two buildings, hearing the sound of the water before I saw it.
And then there we were on a boardwalk staring out at the Atlantic Ocean. The tide was out and a stretch of beautiful golden sand kissed the sea. To our right, we could see all along the boardwalk. It was quite busy—maybe because it was around dinner time—and from what we could see there was at least one or two restaurants right on the boardwalk front. People strolled together past the jumble of architecturally different buildings. There were Vegas-style lights that announced the names of the buildings, but I imagined they would look more effective once the sun set.
The sea air washed over me as a breeze fluttered up from the ocean. I turned to smile at Nate, only to find him looking at me with an intensity that surprised me. I smoothed a hand down his arm. “What is it, baby?”
“I was just thinking we should have done this ages ago. I haven’t seen you so relaxed in a while.”
I leaned into him. “I love our life. But you’re right. We needed this. It wouldn’t have mattered where, as long as it was just me and you. But this . . . “ I glanced to our left to Hart’s Inn, which I was guessing was our accommodation, and I grinned. “This is wonderful.”
It looked like a large home with white-painted shingle siding, a wraparound porch, and quaint blue-painted shutters on the windows. There was no bright neon sign here but rather a lovely hand-painted sign placed by the porch. A light had been attached to it, presumably so that it could be
seen in the dark.
“Let’s get checked in,” Nate said.
I followed him, helping him haul our suitcases up the porch steps, and then I pushed open one of the beautiful double doors with its stained glass window insert. An old-fashioned bell tinkled above us, announcing our arrival.
There was a grand staircase ahead of us and a waiting area and reception desk to our left. To our right was a sitting area with an open fire. Bookshelves packed with reading material lined the walls on either side of the fireplace. Everywhere we looked there were signs that the inn was all about quality and comfort. It was warm and inviting.
Beyond the reading nook area there was a large archway that led into a dining area that looked to be getting set up for dinner service. There was no one at reception so Nate pointed to the waiting area and its comfortable-looking chesterfield sofa. “Let’s take a load off.”
We’d just sat down when we heard a feminine voice ask from the dining area, “Was that the bell?”
“I never heard anything,” a deeper female voice said.
Nate and I looked at each other, wondering if we should call out, when footsteps sounded toward us and an attractive redhead suddenly appeared in the archway of the dining room.
Her eyes rounded at the sight of us. “It was the bell!” She hurried toward us, her beautiful long red hair bouncing in soft waves down over her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, I was in the kitchen.”
We stood up as she came to a stop and held out her hand with a glamorous smile that transformed her from an attractive woman to absolutely stunning. “I’m Bailey Hartwell soon-to-be Tremaine, welcome to Hart’s Inn.”
Nate shook her hand first. “Nate Sawyer. This is my wife, Olivia.”
“Hi.” I shook her hand, grinning because it was hard not to smile in return at her. She gave off an air of infectious cheerfulness.
“So nice to meet you. You guys must be exhausted, huh,” she said, walking around the reception desk to check us in. “You came all the way from Scotland, right?”
“Yeah. We just flew from Edinburgh to London and London to Philly. Then a two hour drive.” I gave her a tired smile.