“It was a very special day. I was glad you were there with me.” Standing before him in only the bra and matching panties Tiffany had convinced her she needed, Sarah should’ve felt self-conscious. She wasn’t young anymore and had given birth to seven children. But with Charlie gazing at her with affection and desire in his eyes, she couldn’t be bothered with being self-conscious. He loved her exactly the way she was.

“Make love to me, Charlie.”

He put his arms around her and held her close. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

“It’s time to go,” Owen said, his lips pressed against Laura’s ear.

“Right this minute?”

“Right this second.”

“Am I allowed to get my son?”

“Frank, Betsy and Shane are in charge of him for the night. They’re upstairs as we speak, giving him a bath and putting him to bed. Shane is staying in our room with him tonight, and I set him up with a bedtime bottle and one for the middle of the night—just in case. Shane said to tell you not to worry. He’s got this.”

“You thought of everything.”

“I wanted you all to myself tonight.”

“And where are you taking me?”

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

“Shouldn’t I at least kiss Holden good night?”

“Only if you want to feel bad if he cries when we leave. He’s perfectly content with Uncle Shane and Grandpa.”

“Don’t we need to say good-bye to our guests?” Most of them were dancing up a storm to the music Evan and his friends had provided all evening.

“No, because we’ll see them all tomorrow at brunch.”

“There’s a brunch?”

“My grandparents are hosting a brunch, and everyone is invited.”

“That’s nice of them.”

He took her hand. “Come with me, my love?”

“Anywhere you wish to go.”

Smiling, he held the door for her so she could go ahead of him into the inn. He took her hand and led her out the front door, down the stairs and across the street to the Beachcomber.

“You’re taking me to the competition?” she asked playfully.

“As much as I wanted to spend tonight at our hotel, we’re overrun with family there. I thought this would be better.” He held the side door to the Beachcomber open for her and guided her up to the second floor, where he used a key card in a door at the end of the long hallway.

“Wait,” he said when she started to go into the room.

He scooped her up and carried her across the threshold into the honeymoon suite, where hurricane lanterns provided soft light and rose petals had been sprinkled on the bed. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket next to the bed.

“You planned ahead,” Laura said, thrilled with the room and her new husband.