Calum’s hand takes yours and you feel the coolness of his wedding band, it sends shivers up your spine and contentment through your heart. His grip is loose and he swings your arms back and forth as you walk through the airport with luggage toted behind you. You’re not sure how he had managed to keep your honeymoon destination a secret until landing but he did it and surprise hits you when snow whirls outside the windows. The location and its climate explains the long pants and sweaters he had packed in your suitcase but not the bathing suit, shorts and sun hats. You ask about them but all he does is shrug and smirk and tell you to wait and see. Calum has everything arranged—the ride from the airport to a small cabin situated in the mountains, the cabin warm and spread with your favorite flowers. Your luggage gets abandoned as Calum decides scooping you up and carrying you over the threshold is more important.
He sets you down in the small living area where a fireplace stacked with logs greets you. Though the cabin is warm a chill runs through from the open door and you shiver, but it doesn’t last long as Calum wraps his arms around you, dips down to kiss your cheek and brush hair from your face.
“We’re married,” he says, the two words becoming much like a mantra as disbelief still sits with you both. You sway in his arms and blush as you look up at him.
“Everything is perfect,” you praise, hoping he knows you mean everything from the wedding to the cabin you stand in now. To him. “But we should probably shut the door.”
Calum laughs as a blow of chilly air comes in through the open door. Your luggage still sits on the small front porch. You both go out to bring it in and shut the door so the warmth can stay with you and the cold can stay outside. Large snowflakes fall from the sky and add to the blanket of white claiming the ground. You’ve travelled with Calum before, usually going to warmer places with beaches and sunsets. The contrast is stark and white and the sights of the mountain and snow that dazzles from sunlight are beautiful. You’d go anywhere in the world with Calum. He starts a fire and turns back to look at you as flames flicker to life. He glows golden from the light and you pat the couch cushion beside the one you’ve settled on.
The night previous was long and filled with excited bliss and lovemaking. You’d talked of starting a family, not wanting to wait any longer, and then set out to try and achieve it. You stayed up until the sun claimed the sky and then raced to the airport to make it to snowy hills. Exhaustion hangs thick and weary in the air, content sighs follow as Calum settles next to you and doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms.
“You like it?” Calum asks, eyes darting around the charming cabin.
You nod as a realization strikes you. “It’s very private.”
All you could ever want for a honeymoon is time with Calum. Uninterrupted. Just you and him and the warmth of being with each other.
“Good, we have an entire week here,” he says.
“I thought we had two weeks?” You ask, knowing he had said two weeks for the honeymoon.
“One week here,” he responds and noses at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “Next week is another surprise.”
You smile and find yourself spending the week between soft sheets, keeping each other warm, in the hot tub on the back deck, out on the mountain with cold noses that rub together and trying to start a family, all while dreaming of your hopes. Most nights bring candlelight and soft music. After days of roaming the mountain and spending time in the snow you’re both content to head for the bedroom where a king sized mattress bids you well. You pull him into bed, his lips roaming your skin, whispered words of want slipping from his lips, your body reacting to the desires between you both. He mumbles words of praise and compliments that make you shiver. You respond in kind, his name a song on from your lips as you sigh. You know each other and all of the things that drive the other wild. His hands roam and wander and his lips leave marks where you like them best. Highs are reached and come down into soft holds and small kisses peppering each other’s faces. More desires are traded as nights drag along. Talk of a family claims your discussions.
Time slips by in bliss and one week seems too short. Your goodbyes to the mountain are filled with sorrow. You don’t think that anywhere could ever get better but you’re willing to find out so long as it’s with Calum. He makes you close your eyes through the airport, his hand leading you and headphones claiming your ears so announcements won’t spoil the surprise. You’re not sure where you are when you land, nothing about the airport is of note, nothing about the view gives anything away but when Calum tells you there’s another flight in store you have an inkling of where you’re headed, the time and preparation for the sun clueing you in.
Another flight slips past though it’s long, you sleep against Calum and wake to his grin and a summer sky greeting you. He’s brought you home to Australia where summer is warm and those shorts and sun hats in your suitcase will be put to good use. You end up in a hotel near the beach, spend your time under the sun, trading kisses and bliss in the sand, in the hotel bed and shower and seemingly never take your hands off of each other. You both find new habits of twisting your wedding rings, holding each other’s hands and staring at the bands in wonder and awe as you dream about the family you want. It’s a subject that comes up when you go to visit Calum’s parents during a day you’re able to drag yourselves away from the beach and the bed and each other; somewhat, he still holds your hand and kisses your cheeks and keeps you close. They broach the topic and where Calum would have hesitated before, uncertain eyes flickering to you and then away, he answers right away, a sureness capturing his voice.
“We want at least two kids,” he tells his mum one afternoon you’ve taken her to lunch. “Sooner rather than later.”
You watch as his mom lights up and coos about grandbabies. When lunch is over and you find yourselves alone again, laid on the beach with the sun in your eyes and the crash of waves on the shore you turn to Calum.
“I love your family,” you say, starry eyed at the prospect of being parents like his—loving and caring and always there.
“They’re your family too,” Calum says softly and brushes your cheek with his thumb.
You smile and nod, knowing that’s true.
“Maybe we’ll have a start to ours when we get home,” Calum says with longing in his voice and softness in his eyes. “I can’t wait to be a parent with you.”
You can’t either. You’re not sure what will happen when you get home. If his words will come to life or if more time will be needed but you know you’ll be together through it all.
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