Wendy closed the bedroom door, and took a moment to appreciate the sight before her. K.T. was on the bed, bare chested, sitting up with pillows propped behind his back and a book on his lap. The fluttering in her stomach made her smile, after nineteen years of marriage, that still hadn’t changed. If anything, he thrilled her even more now than before, in many ways.
He was an amazing husband, an incredible father, and an extraordinarily successful inventor. After their time in the navy, they’d moved home, to Oklahoma, where he’d begun creating things. It had all started with the oil company, and the pump engines on the McCallister properties. They were always breaking down for one reason or another, so he had built one. One that to this day was still working. He’d gotten a patent on the engine and sold it.
That had been just the beginning of the things he’d created, built, patented, and sold. There were days when the mailbox was packed full of nothing but royalty checks from his inventions.
Yet, he was always working on the next one, and she loved it. She loved working in the shop beside him. Loved how sometimes, in the middle of the day, when the right song came on the radio, they’d stop working and dance.
Just dance.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” he asked, flipping back the covers on her side of the bed.
“No.” She untied her bathrobe as she walked toward the bed. “I was just admiring you, thinking how lucky I am.”
“One more thing we have in common,” he said, watching her lay her robe over the foot of the bed.
Wearing only a long silk nightgown, she climbed on the bed and kissed him. “Yes.” She tucked her feet beneath the covers and scooted up next to him, sharing the pillows stacked behind his back. “What are you reading?”
“Not reading, looking.”
She realized then that it was a photo album on his lap. “Our wedding pictures.”
“Yes.” He pointed at a picture. “Remember that?”
The picture was of Harvey Clemmons, with her veiled pillbox hat atop his head and a cast on his foot. “Yes. He wore that hat all night after catching it when it flew off my head.”
He flipped to the next page. “What about that?”
She laughed at the picture of her in her white wedding dress amongst all the other women in grass skirts. “I was a pretty good hula dancer back then.”
His lips touched her temple. “You still are.”
Although contentment washed over her, she said, “You have to say that. You’re my husband.”
He chuckled. “Marrying you is still the smartest thing I ever did.”
“What made you pull this out?” she asked. “Our anniversary was last week.” As if she was a model, she held her right hand before his face, showing him the gorgeous mother’s ring that he’d given her last week. The gold band held three shimmering stones for each of their children. Roger, their oldest, was fifteen and much like his father. Overly serious at times and intelligent. Sharon, who was thirteen, was more like her. Meaning, she couldn’t cook, either—which was why they had a live-in cook and housekeeper—but loved seeing people happy. And their youngest, Tad. He’d just turned ten and was a mixture of the two of them. A free spirit who could fix anything.
K.T. took a hold of her fingers and kissed the back of her hand, but didn’t say anything. Which made her know he was up to something.
Looking at the album again, she flipped to the next page. Sure enough, there was an envelope. “What’s this?”
“Something for you to read.”
She picked up the envelope and lifted the unsealed flap. “Airline tickets? Where are we going?” Not so remarkably, because he’d promised to show her the world, they’d been on every continent since getting married. Some while in the navy, others because he’d sold his inventions, and others still, just because they were places they’d wanted to see.
“Read them.”
She pulled the tickets out of the envelope, and her heart leaped. “Hawaii?”
He nodded. “It’s time to revisit where it all started.”
“Oh, Oklahoma, that will be so wonderful.” She glanced at the tickets. “These are for next month! It’s going to be so warm and beautiful there!”
“There’s something else in the envelope.”
She set the airline tickets aside and pulled out more tickets, smaller ones, and read them. “Elvis Presley?” She let out a squeal. “In concert?”
“Yes, he’s performing at the Bloch Arena. It’s a fundraiser for the memorial they are building at Pearl Harbor. I thought we should be there.”
Tears formed in her eyes as she thought of the time they’d spent at the harbor, all the good times, and even the tragic ones. Blinking didn’t clear her vision, but that was just fine. She set aside the tickets and the photo album, and wrapped her arms around him. “K.T. McCallister, I love you. I love you so very, very much.”
He pulled her on top of him as he slid down on the bed, until they were lying down. “Prove it.”
She laughed, because she loved a challenge, and she also remembered the first time she’d said that to him at the Bloch Arena, where it had all started. They both had proven many things to each other over the years, but she didn’t mind doing it again.
And again.
And again.
If you enjoyed this story,
then make sure to read Lauri Robinson’s
Southern Belles in London miniseries
The Return of His Promised Duchess
The Making of His Marchioness
Falling for His Pretend Countess
And why not pick up one of her other
brilliant stories?
An Unlikely Match for the Governess
The Captain’s Christmas Homecoming
A Family for the Titanic Survivor
Diary of a War Bride
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Viking and the Runaway Empress by Sarah Rodi.