Page 79 of Take Me to the Wedding

That night, I’d taken a shower and was trying to unwind, propped up on the pretty pillows in the D’Angelos’ guest bedroom. I attempted to read a book on my phone, but I couldn’t concentrate, thinking of Caleb. It seemed that the universe was conspiring against us getting together, but what could I do? Go knocking on his bedroom door in his parents’ house—ugh, no. I’d taken to deleting old emails and resolving to spend another restless night dreaming about him when there was a knock on my door.

I thought that Wynn, exhausted from all the physical activity, would’ve crashed hard, but I grabbed her fuzzy gray slippers that she’d forgotten earlier from a cute antique bench and threw open the door, thrusting them out to her.

Except it wasn’t her. It was Caleb. He’d showered too, judging by his damp hair, that soft gray T-shirt I loved, and the familiar soapy scent that suddenly filled my senses.

“Um, thanks, but I actually prefer pink.” He flicked an appreciative glance at my floral pj shorts, then looked me in the eye with a heat and an intensity that gave me goose bumps.

I tossed the slippers aside. “You again?” I said, trying to frown through the absolute pleasure and surprise of seeing him. “It’s ten o’clock.”

I said it with the outrage of getting a page in the hospital at around two a.m., but I wasn’t outraged at all. I was excited, thrilled, and troubled. Troubled because I wanted him so badly, but I didn’t want to tackily drag him through my door and rip his shirt off. Or maybe I should?

He leaned casually against the doorframe. “The night is young. And I want to show you something.” That took me by surprise. “You’ll love it.”

“Just a sec.” I couldn’t run fast enough into the bathroom to throw on a T-shirt and shorts.

“Maybe grab a sweatshirt,” he called through the door. “It’s always a little chilly in the country at night no matter how warm the day is.” I reached into my duffel and pulled out his old UW one.

“I’m ready,” I said as I caught up to him at the door.

“Perfect.” He smiled and took my hand. “I’m ready too.” He reached down and kissed me quickly on the lips. “Just for the record, I never got lucky with that shirt. Until maybe now I might.”

Oh hurray, at last.“Hmm,” I said, unable to suppress a giant grin. “Just where are we going?” Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. I would’ve gone with him anywhere.

“Shh, woman,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Trust me.”

As we ran down the stairs to the front door, Beth and Steven, who were sitting on the couch in the family room, glanced up. I tried to release my hand, but Caleb held on tightly. “Hey, Ma, Dad,” he said casually. “We’re going for a little ride. I have a key, so don’t wait up.”

“Have fun,” Beth said.

“See you tomorrow,” Steven said.

“Did you see that?” I heard Beth ask in a not-whisper. “They were holding hands!”

“‘Don’t wait up?’” I asked. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“Not far,” he said in a mysterious tone as he handed me the keys to his truck. “We’re going a little off road.”

I swallowed. Driving his giant truck—well, to me it seemed giant—on regular roads in broad daylight was challenging enough. But off road? In the dark?

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The four-wheel drive almost always kicks in before it slides too far down the hill.”

That was too much. “Please don’t say ‘slide down the hill’ even if you’re kidding.”

“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” But then he howled with laughter. “I’m teasing you. Come on.”

I drove us a ways down the main road that ran in front of the farm until it turned onto a dirt road that ran alongside a field and then plunged into a thick line of trees. In the woods, the road narrowed. “Okay, now I’m scared.”

“It’s just a little farther.” Caleb craned his neck to see the sky out the truck window. “No moon tonight—it’s really dark. Just what I wanted.” He put a hand on my arm. The road led straight into a clearing. “Now stop and cut the lights.”

We were in the middle of a giant grassy field rimmed with trees. The air was cool and earthy-scented, and the sky surrounded us with an endless canopy of stars. “It’s beautiful,” I said as I glanced around everywhere. “It feels like there’s no one around for miles.”

“Just us and the crickets.” As he grinned. I could see the flash of his white teeth in the darkness. He was right about that—the crickets were singing their summer soundtrack all around us. He grabbed his crutches and opened the door. “Come on. I want to show you the stars.”

He sounded excited, full of that same exuberance he always had over the simplest things, and I was giddy with anticipation. I caught up to him about ten feet in front of the truck, where he stood, balanced on his crutches, looking up, transfixed by the thousands of pinpoints of light dotting the inky dark sky. He glanced over at me, I think to point something out, but caught me staring at him, not the stars. “What do you think?”

“I think you have all the excitement of a little kid.”

“Well,” he said quietly, “if I have that, then I want to give it all to you.”

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