Winning Back His Wife (Camp Firefly Falls Book 1) (6 page)

M
ichael didn't get
another break until early afternoon. He'd asked his assistant to call the hospital twice, and each report back had been that there was no more news, and it would be a slow recovery.

As he signed yet another pile of quickly drafted legal documents, he felt another pang of guilt at what he was doing.

But his father wouldn't be resuming his role as CEO any time soon—not ever, probably. Not if his mother had any say in the matter. It was time for a permanent leadership change.

"We good here?" he asked the assembled lawyers as he flipped the pen he'd been gripping for the last thirty minutes.

He wouldn't miss the hand cramps, that was for sure.

Of course, he'd probably get just as many being Heather's official handyman.

Different kind of pain, though. He looked forward to working with his body every day. Challenging himself in every way to learn and master something new.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't call me that," he chuckled. "I'm nobody's boss now."

He'd keep a seat on the board. But he'd authorized a nationwide headhunting campaign for a new CEO and a new COO. It was time for the helm of TST to be manned by a team with new vision, new energy.

And just like that, the guilt slid away. This was the right call for everyone.

"I have to go find my wife and get back to the hospital," he said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Thank you so much for all your hard work today. It's appreciated."

"You'll be missed, Mr. Tully."

He winked. "I'll be around. A few times a year at least."

He didn't bother to pull out his phone and text Heather. Instead, he had his assistant call for a car to meet him at the store on the corner, and by the time he made it downstairs and had bought a bouquet of flowers, the driver was waiting for him.

He gave the condo address and sat back in his seat, closing his eyes for the first time in nearly two days.

The town car had a smooth ride, and he would have fallen asleep if the drive had been any longer, but before he knew it, they were there. He tipped the driver and jogged up the stairs, letting himself in.

But when he got upstairs, the apartment was deadly quiet. "Heather?" he called out.

The living room looked exactly like it had the night before, the throw cushions pulled off the couch and everything cleared off the coffee table so they could use it as a table.

The noodles were gone, though. Like she'd cleaned up, but just the bare minimum.

In their room—her room, he corrected himself with a growing panic—he didn't find her…and he didn't find her backpack, either.

Or his suitcases, either.

She'd packed up and left.

He dropped the flowers to the floor.

She'd packed up and left
in his car.
How the hell was he supposed to chase her all the way back to the Berkshires now?

He yanked out his phone and called her. His incredulity turned to steaming frustration when it went straight to voicemail. She had a huge lead on him if she was already out of cell range.

"God damn it!" he yelled, picking up the flowers just long enough to pitch them angrily back into the living room. He stormed after them, yanking them up for a third round of abuse when the front door swung open.

Heather stared at him, her eyes wide, and she slowly raised her hands up between them. "Put the flowers down, baby."

"Heather," he gasped, his heart pounding in his chest. "What are you—"

"—doing here?" They asked the question at the same time, and she gave a weak laugh and tried again. "I was just taking some of our stuff down to the car. I thought it would be better if we stayed at your apartment while we're in the city. Closer for you to go back and forth between the hospital and the office."

"We?"

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"No."

"What's going on? I thought your dad…I was just at the hospital a little while ago. Everything was as fine as it could be. He's calmer now."

Michael nodded. "I know."

"Then what is it?"

He swallowed hard. "I thought you'd left."

"Oh. Baby, oh, no." She raced across the room and wrapped him in her arms. "I'm not going anywhere. Not right now. I'll go back and forth as needed, and we'll figure something out next summer."

"You don't need to."

"Of course I do." She shook her head and pressed her face into his neck. "This is a family emergency. And you, Michael Tully, are my family. You're my heart and soul, and I'm not leaving you to be brave and strong on your own. You're going to be miserable leading TST. So I'm going to be here to keep reminding you that when you're ready, Camp Firefly Falls is waiting for you."

"I'm ready."

She laughed, a full body shake that warmed him from the inside out. He squeezed her tighter to him. "Oh, sweetie."

"No, I'm serious. I…" He tugged back. He wanted her to see his face when he told her. "I quit today. I mean, I resigned my position as COO, and accepted a seat on the board. But my deputy director has stepped into the role while an executive search can take place. For two positions. CEO and COO. A new leadership team for a new era for Tully & Sons Trading."

"No…." Her eyes went big and her mouth dropped open. "You didn't."

He grinned. "I did."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"I'm so proud of you."

"I thought you'd like that."

"And your parents?"

He winced. "They don't know yet."

She stepped back and held out her hand. "Whenever you want to tell them, I'll be right by your side."

F
ishing
.

Somehow, trout had done what Michael’s best efforts of toeing the line his entire life had not.

Brought father and son together.

Heather smiled at the sight of the two figures in the boat as it made its return trip to shore. Michael and his father had gone out every day since his parents had arrived at camp for the long weekend. Well, all weekends were long for the Tully men now that they no longer existed only in their business bubbles. But they came out Friday, Mr. and Mrs. Tully, and weren’t leaving until tomorrow. So Sunday dinner was suddenly something in Heather’s purview. Which was just weird.

She’d always hated the expected Sunday dinners at the Tullys’.

She and Michael had been feeding his parents camp “nostalgia” food for most of the weekend, plus one night at Boone’s, the pub/restaurant in town. However, tonight’s Sunday dinner was being prepared by a chef auditioning for camp. Someone Mother Tully herself had suggested to Heather. She couldn’t decide if she wanted it to work out or not. On one hand, it would be nice to take the olive branch, on the other, she didn’t want Michael’s mother to meddle and cause problems.

The great room cooled about ten degrees, letting Heather know her mother-in-law had entered. Stiffening her shoulders, Heather turned to face the woman who’d made her life so difficult.

Mrs. Tully was formidable—more so because of her diminutive size and impeccable appearance. It was like nothing could muss her. Not her wayward son and certainly not, what had she called Heather for the first four years they dated? Ah, yes. “That Nonsensical Gypsy Girl You Like So Much.”

She had some sort of force field or bubble that kept her hair in place and her shoes neatly polished no matter what life threw at her. Even here, at camp, her casual attire was freshly pressed despite not having irons or servants on the premises. The woman even ate her first s’more last night without needing a napkin. It was slightly infuriating.

Mother, as Heather always called her even when it was obvious to both of them it was not an endearment, looked over Heather’s shoulder through the floor to ceiling window overlooking the lake. “They’re returning I see. I suppose we’ll need to pretend to like lake trout again this evening.”

A joke? Heather smiled, though warily. “Not tonight. Meg is preparing our rustic French fare this evening, remember?”

“Oh thank goodness.”

Mother continued to stare, unseeing, past Heather. Heather wanted to make a run for it, find some important business to deal with so as not to be alone with her, but something made her stay.

It wouldn’t be so hard to be gracious, would it? She’d won, after all. Michael had chosen what made him happy, not his parents. He’d stuck by his decision when his mother had thought she could sway him. He’d even found a way to get his parents out to the camp instead of them always going to Baltimore.

The only power Mother had over Heather was the one that Heather gave her.

“Do you like puzzles, Mother?” She let her gaze flit over the shelves housing board games, puzzles, and books. “We could start one. Maybe the men will join us.”

Mother pursed her lips, looked out the window, and then nodded. “Certainly.” Well, bless her heart. She was trying.

“Why don’t you pick one out while I make a quick pitcher of G&Ts.” Because booze.

“Oh thank goodness,” Mother replied, echoing herself, and Heather stifled a giggle. If she’d known a decade ago that gin would have helped their relationship, she’d have given it a try a long time ago.

It took a long time for Michael and his father to get to the lodge’s great room. Mr. Tully moved a lot slower these days and Michael had fish to clean. But they spent a good hour together, the four of them, looking for edges and trying to smooth over the formal, strange feelings that didn’t fit as well as the jig-saw pieces.

A nice dinner later helped. And when Mr. and Mrs. Tully retired to their very nice room in the lodge, it was Michael’s idea to retire to the hot spring.

Naked.

“My mother didn’t ask you about grandchildren once tonight,” Michael murmured against her temple as she sat in his lap. “Progress.”

“I think she’s actually trying to accept me. It only took twelve years.” The battle-axe. Though, to be fair, Heather’s dad hadn’t given up on the idea of grandchildren either. He never made her feel that their choice was ruining an entire lineage, though.

“It was good of you to make them feel welcome here.”

Heather shifted so she was sideways in his lap. “It’s our home. Of course they are welcome. I never meant for you to have to choose between your parents and us. It wasn’t about either or.”

“Camp isn’t my home, sweetheart, you are.”

She wiggled her bottom. “Now you’re just trying to get lucky.”

“I’m already the luckiest man in the world,” he said as she maneuvered once again so that she straddled his lap and rubbed against his erection.

She was the lucky one. It had been a little over a year since she bought the property. Six months since they’d reconciled. The idea that she’d almost let her marriage go instead of fighting for it was hard to forget.

“Hey, where’d you just go?” he asked.

“I promise I will never not fight for you.”

He registered surprise first, probably trying to figure out how she’d gotten from Point A to Point B in this conversation. Then he grinned wickedly. “Same goes. I’ve always got your back.” His eyebrows waggled. “And your front.”

She thought of the boy on the Green who’d convinced her to give him a chance even when she was scared of her feelings. And the boy she’d had to convince to kiss her at the stump not far from here, even when he was scared of his.

“Michael, close your eyes.”

“What? Why?” he asked, an echo of their past.

“Just do it.”

She didn’t wait. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she grabbed his shoulder and leaned in, kissing him right on the mouth.

Heather pulled back, but kept her hands on his shoulders. “You didn’t close your eyes.”

“You didn’t either.” And then he smiled. The whole world still stopped when that man smiled. “Let’s try again.”

A
roaring fireplace
, two well-scribbled on notepads, a bottle of wine, and pad thai…all at Camp Firefly Falls. Heather was on cloud nine.

The camp still looked like the rustic retreat she’d bought, but beneath the carefully preserved surface, there was now a lot of luxury as well.

Like a chef who made wicked Asian food.

“We should toast to Meg,” she said lazily.

Michael shot her a quick, teasing grin. “I think you love those noodles more than me.”

“Not possible.” She glanced past him at the now quiet kitchen. “Now that new dessert Allison created, on the other hand…”

They’d really lucked out with both hires. Allison, their dessert chef, and Meg, the head chef, had hit it off right away. They were an impressive force—watching them work together was a whirlwind of professional efficiency and creative chaos. 

“We can have that once we finish going over the schedule,” Heather’s husband said, dragging her back to the work at hand.

So bossy.

She grinned and looked down at her notes.

The camp season was broken up into thematic sessions. The first was titled Rediscover Marital Intimacy. 

Just like with their cooking staff, they’d lucked out with this block as well. Their yoga instructor, Essa, who’d be with them all summer, happened to know a marital counselor named Birk. He’d been totally enthusiastic about the session idea, and on top of meeting with all the couples, he’d also agreed to teach the couples yoga with Essa for the intimacy session. 

Heather’s lips twitched at the thought of getting Michael to participate. Not that they needed any help in rediscovering their marital intimacy.

She blushed. “Week two…” she said, but Michael had already seen her reaction and tugged her foot, sliding her legs apart.

“Nope. What were you just thinking about?”

“Nothing. Official camp business.”

“Like orgasms?”

She gasped. “We can’t pause our work for dessert, but we can for sex?”

“Are you saying no to an orgasm?”

She sighed. “Only out of spite, really. I want more of that dessert.”

He rolled his eyes. “Week two. That’s a corporate training session. I’ve got separate notes on that, but it’s all taken care of.”

“Good. Week three…”

And on they went, session by session, until they’d reviewed each of the different blocks planned for their first official full season. The summer before they’d done a few weeks as part trial run, part re-establish a good relationship with the locals, and part re-connect with the original Camp Firefly Falls alumni, now all grown up. Some of those alumni were back this year for sessions, which warmed Heather’s heart in a serious way.

“It’s going to be a good summer, isn’t it?” she asked as Michael tugged her to her feet.

“The best,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

“To our cabin?” Now that the camp staff had started to arrive and get ready for the summer, sex in front of the giant fireplace in the main lodge wasn’t an option.

They’d save that for the end of the summer once everyone had gone home again.

“Actually, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He laced his fingers in hers. “Let’s go down to the boathouse.”

They took their time. It was an amazing property, and even though a few early staffers had arrived, it was still quiet and serene.

She could see the summer playing out in front of her. And next year they’d do even more.

“What are you thinking about?” Michael murmured, tugging her to a stop just short of the path to the boathouse.

“Crazy ideas.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Maybe.” But then he’d help her make her dream happen. The last three years had proven that without a doubt. “Try me.”

“I want a treehouse. Like a cabin alternative. Maybe it could be a secret, like the hot springs. We’d use it as a prize, maybe.”

“The ultimate reliving your childhood experience.”

She winked. “But with a friend to keep you warm.”

“A treehouse. I like the sound of that.”

“You do?”

He gave her a most definitive nod. “But not for this year.”

“No.”

“Although we do have those ex-Navy SEALs coming here in session three…”

“You can’t put them to work!”

“Work. No. A contest…yes.” He winked. “Or maybe I’ll build it for you in my spare time. We’ll see.”

“You’re amazing.” She squeezed his hand.

“As are you, my wife. As are you. Now come on, there’s something else I want to show you.”

He led her to the boathouse and opened the back door.

Inside, the rafters were strung with thousands of white lights.

Just like she’d imagined, and told him about…
three years
earlier.

"We didn't do the firefly dance last year," he said softly as she pressed her fingertips to her mouth.

Her eyes were filling rapidly with tears.

“And it didn’t make it onto your schedule for this year. But I told some of the staff, and they set this up while we were eating. So we can have a firefly dance every night if you want to.”

Oh, she wanted to. She was still nodding dumbly when music started from somewhere and he pulled her into his arms.

It was going to be a perfect summer.