Operation Formosa
Disclaimer: NCISLA characters belong to Shane Brennan. All original characters and this story are mine.
Chapter 11
Callen, Bronte and their sons settled well into their new home with the large verandah and private gardens. Hetty, true to her word, gave them the house as her gift to them. She saw how happy they were there and she hoped that it would help Bronte heal after her recent grief.
Christmas came and went with mixed emotions. They made it a happy one and included the whole team, Gibbs and Abby from D.C. and the Nassir family. And although their house was filled with loved ones and good friends, underneath the surface, the grief simmered for Bronte, Max, Callen and Michael. They missed those they'd loved and lost.
It was their first Christmas together as a family of sorts, the boys were getting along well. Michael picked up sign language quickly and was able to communicate with Max more freely. Bronte healed slowly from all the grieving she'd locked away. She continued her regular visits with Dr Carter, Nate had recommended her well. But something appeared to be on Callen's mind. Spring was around the corner, work kept them both busy and distracted.
Bronte busied herself on her laptop, she looked up from her desk and watched Callen disappear with Sam. Her eyes followed them until they moved out of sight.
Sam leaned on the wall in the armoury, curious. He watched his partner pace the room, nervous. "What is it, G?"
His eyes darted to the two entrances to the room before his eyes settled on the former Navy SEAL. "This." Callen pulled a small package out of his jeans pocket and handed it to Sam.
Sam's eyes widened and his dimples deepened as a grin spread across his face. "So this is it, huh?"
"U-huh!" Callen swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat. "She makes me happy, Sam. I've never felt this way about any woman, not even with Kristin."
Sam squeezed his shoulder, "I'm happy for you, G. You deserve to be happy."
"I'm worried she'll say no." He heaved out, his nerves getting the better of him.
"You reckon? No. She'll get all teary and say yes. She loves you."
"You love me, but there's no way you'll ever want to be married to me." Callen smirked. He wanted to do this right.
Sam chuckled, "I'm already taken, but yeah, I think I'm married enough to you with this job, I don't think I could deal with your lone wolf tendencies more than I already do.
A chuckle escaped Callen's throat from Sam's witty response. He turned serious again, "I want us to have kids, our kids. Not just be a family of hers and mine. I want us to have kids that are pieces of her and pieces of me."
"You've settled in better than any of us expected, G. I can see the two of you with little ones running around in no time. After watching you with Ella and Thomas, you're a natural."
"Do you think I can do it?"
"Of course. I've watched you for years with Aidan and Kamran." Sam smiled.
"Look, G. I know you missed the early years with Michael, but the two of you are," he shook his head and chuckled, "are like two peas in a pod. If you have anymore that are a clone of you and Michael, the world will be a better place."
Callen narrowed his eyes, "you're mocking me."
"No, G. I'm being honest with you. Brother to brother."
Callen nodded. "Thanks." He heaved out a sigh. "Will you be my best man if she says yes?"
Sam's smiled broadened, "of course."
"Good. Thanks. Okay." He was talking himself into proposing. "Greg's parents are looking after the boys for the weekend, we're heading up the coast tonight, I just hope Bronte doesn't freak out."
Sam knew what he was referring to, "you've given her time, I would be surprised if she said no."
He looked at Sam cautiously, "I hope you're right." The day dragged on for Callen, all he wanted was to be out of there and on their way to their weekend destination. He wanted this to be perfect.
Bronte on the other hand became suspicious. She watched Callen swivel his chair from side to side as he worked. Her attention moved over to Sam who looked at his partner from time to time with a hint of a smile on his face. Callen was up to something. But getting it out of him would mean that she would have to drag him off to her psychologist and get the confession from him. And she doubted Dr Carter could trick Callen into admitting the truth the second time.
Five o'clock came, Callen shut down his laptop and picked up his bag. He walked over to her office and leaned on the edge of the desk. "Are you almost finished?"
"I have piles of paperwork, G. You go on ahead, I'll come home later."
Callen frowned, "oh, no, Bron. You are coming with me now."
"What? No. I can't. Vance needs these reports by Monday."
"Then he'll just have to wait. It's after five on a Friday, you are now officially mine. And we're getting out of here."
She felt like a teenage girl, ready to skip school with the cutest boy in class. She sighed. "Okay. I could do with an early night. Shall we get pizzas on the way home and surprise the boys?"
Callen pulled her up from her chair, "not quite what I had in mind." Her body shivered, she looked up into his sky blue eyes and felt herself drift deep into them. "Come, let's get out of here." He held her hand as they walked past the bull pen and waved goodnight to the rest of the team. She climbed into the passenger seat of his Mercedes and laid her head back to relax.
Traffic in Los Angeles was a killer at peak hour, but on a Friday, it was torturous. It was a good thing Bronte fell asleep soon after leaving the office, they had a long drive ahead of them.
Callen pulled into the driveway of their weekend retreat. It was a French style villa, only a mile walk to the beach. The garden was well tended, with lavender, clematis, daisies and lemon verbena scenting the evening air.
Bronte stirred and opened her eyes. She furrowed her brow and looked over at Callen. "Where are we?"
"St Tropez?" Callen smirked, "it was the closest I could do in the time limit to have a weekend away in the south of France."
She shifted for a better look, she raised her brow intrigued. "What are you up to, G?"
"Let's go inside, dinner should almost be ready."
"Ready?"
Callen grabbed her hand and led her inside the villa, the smell from the kitchen caught her attention immediately. She couldn't help herself, the smell drew her in.
"Père?" Philipe Reinard looked up at hearing his daughter's voice and stopped what he was doing. He moved forward and enveloped her in his arms.
"Bronte, my sweet daughter." He stepped back and studied her. "You look thin. It's a good thing G has asked me to come to cook for you this weekend." She had lost a considerable amount of weight after the last Formosa Cartel incident, when her memories returned. However, slowly she began to heal, it was a good thing Philipe hadn't seen the state she had been in a few months earlier.
Bronte turned to Callen, "you did this for me?"
Callen nodded, "you've been through a lot, Bron, you need a break after everything. And I thought it was about time you saw your Père again. Callen liked Philipe, he was a gentle man, who was full of passion in the good things, like food.
Bronte shifted from her father towards Callen. "I don't know what to say," she began, her eyes glistening from the tears that threatened. "No one has ever done anything like this for me."
"You deserve the best, Bron. You deserve to be happy." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently on the the temple. He felt warm and she revelled in the comfort he provided her. She looked up into his clear blue eyes, "I love you, G."
His heart thumped fast inside his chest. "I love you too, Bron." He gently brushed a stray hair from her face and softly touched her lips with his. He wanted to go deeper, take her upstairs and show her just how much he loved her. But he wanted to do this properly. He pulled back and cleared his throat. "How long do we have before dinner will be ready, Philipe?"
"Half an hour." He looked back into the kitchen, "I better get back to work."
"Merci beaucoup," Callen took Bronte's hand in his and led her upstairs. "Enough time for you to shower. I'll grab our bags from the car."
Bronte enjoyed the flow of water over her body as she washed the dirt and sweat from her hair and body. When she stepped out of the shower, she felt refreshed from her day. The tiredness that she had succumbed to in the drive up there had left her. She stepped into the bedroom and halted in her steps. With only a towel wrapped around her, her pulse thrummed under the surface. She looked at the door but she was alone. Draped over the end of the bed was a navy blue dress, sequins sparkled in the light around the bodice. The satin fabric shimmered as she lifted it up for a closer look. The sweetheart neckline and capped sleeved dress was beautiful. She couldn't believe Callen had chosen it all on his own.
She turned at the sound of a knock on the door. Callen peeped his head inside, "how are you going?"
He saw her studying the dress, "do you not like it?" He worried, it had been a hard decision in choosing the right dress for the occasion.
"It's beautiful," her voice was barely above a whisper from the emotion.
Callen was moved by her reaction to the dress, he walked over to her and wiped the stray tear from her cheek. "So are you. I hope it's the right fit, I wasn't sure."
Bronte shook her head, "I can't believe you've done all of this for me."
"Believe it, Bron." He tilted her head up and held her jaw, he leaned down and brushed his lips on hers. He deepened the kiss, but he knew he couldn't get carried away. Not yet anyway. "I'll be waiting downstairs for you."
She nodded, it was all she could do, her body shook from all the emotions that coursed through her. Callen surprised her over and over, she took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. It had been a while since she'd been spoiled like this. Not since Greg—-her eyes darted to the door, realisation hit her hard. She grabbed hold of the edge of the bed and sat. Her heart quickened, her hands shook. "Get a grip of yourself, Bron. You're being ridiculous," she told herself.
She found a pitcher of water and poured herself a glass and swallowed the contents. Time was passing faster than she realised, she couldn't disappoint her father and be late. She quickly dressed and did her hair and makeup, sprayed her perfume and slipped her feet into the heeled sandals that Callen had bought to match the dress. She felt like a princess ready to go to the ball. She took another look in the mirror, all that was missing was her jewellery. She furrowed her brow, she did have any with her, then something out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention. A small navy box wrapped in matching ribbon sat on the dresser, a note with her name laid next to it. She carefully opened the box, "for my beautiful daughter, avec amour, Père. x"
She sniffed, Callen and her father were up to something and she'd figured it out. Flashes of the day skittered across her mind; Callen swivelling his chair, him disappearing to the armoury with Sam, his eagerness to leave at five. The drive up to this Mediterranean style villa and her father downstairs cooking their dinner. "Okay, Bron, you can do this. It's just a romantic dinner cooked by Père."
She exited the bedroom and descended the stairs, her muscles tense as she tried to control her nerves. She found Callen standing at the foot of the stairs dressed in a matching navy suit and tie. His eyes sparkled brightly, catching her breath. Her mother had a say in this too, she realised. His suit and tie was definitely her mother's influence.
Callen looked up at Bronte as she reached him. "Wow, Bron." His heart beat heavily inside his chest. "You're so beautiful."
"You're not so bad yourself. I never realised you scrubbed up so well." He was a handsome man, but tonight, he was dashing and nerves fluttered inside her stomach."
His smile widened, "I hope you're hungry, your Père has cook us up a masterpiece."
"Dinner is," Philipe exited the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. His eyes glistened with tears. He'd been in this situation before, when Greg had propose, but this was the first time he was actually present at the occasion. He swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. "Bronte, you are my evening star." He stepped forward, lifted her hand and kissed it. "How did I become so lucky to have you as my daughter?"
"Père, really. You are too kind. It's me who's the lucky one, to have you as my Père." She hugged him briefly, taking in the smells his hair and clothing had absorbed from the kitchen. "Dinner smells delicious."
"Merci beaucoup. I will serve you in a few minutes." He left them alone to rein in his emotions. His daughter had found happiness again, he prayed that this time Callen remained safe. He worried what would happen to her if she lost him. He shook his head of the negative thoughts as he prepared their starters.
Callen led her outside to the courtyard. Lamps in old rusted urns scattered around the bordered garden lit the scene up perfectly. Fairy lights hung above on the pergola among the purple wisteria and a large vanilla candle burned inside a hurricane vase. The setting was perfect, the company more so.
"Callen, this is," she looked over at him "perfect."
"You're perfect, Bron. In every single way." Callen licked his lips from nerves, the moment was here, he really needed to do it now or else he'd be too nervous to eat. He dropped to one knee, he pulled the ring out from his pocket.
"Bronte, I have loved you for as long as I have known you. You have brought so much goodness into my life I never thought I could have. You give me purpose to wake up every morning and to ensure I make it through each and every day. I want to spend every day of my life with you. Will you marry me?" His heart thumped inside his chest, he looked up into her eyes, tears fell down her cheeks.
Bronte had worked out what was coming, she was glad she had, else she'd be in worse of a state than she was now. But even so, her emotions overwhelmed her. It was difficult for her to speak, she nodded. "Yes, G." She eventually managed to say.
Callen slipped the sapphire and diamond platinum ring onto her slim finger, kissing the back of her hand as he stood up before her. "I love you, Bron." He gently wiped the tears from her face and placed a kiss in its place.
Bronte's body shuddered. From emotion and the effects Callen had on her. "I love you too, G." She leaned into him and kissed him firmly on the lips.
Philipe exited the house holding two plates and smiled. She said yes, was all he could think. His heart swelled, he couldn't be more proud of her. He cleared his throat, catching their attention.
Bronte blushed and stepped back, "you knew."
Philipe nodded. "Of course. G asked for my permission." Philipe had been pleased, he liked Callen and he was thrilled his matchmaking on his last trip had worked better than he'd anticipated. He saw the glow on her face when she was with Callen. She deserved to be happy, especially after losing Joshua, Greg and Carrie. He place their starters on the table and hugged her. "Congratulations, my beautiful girl."
"Merci beaucoup, Père."
He turned and shook Callen's hand, "congratulations, I know you'll take good care of her and make her happy. Now you eat your dinner and I'll bring out the champagne to celebrate."
"Merci, Philipe," Callen smiled over to his future father-in-law. He had no memories of his real father, he wasn't certain if he was still alive. But he liked the idea of having Philipe as his Père.