by Nina Lindsey
Even if just the brief caress of his lips had filled her with heat.
Trying to push the thought aside, she hurried home. She had to stop several times to tighten her belt so the shorts wouldn’t fall down, but she managed to make it back to her Mariposa Street apartment, which was a one-room studio above the café.
After quickly changing into jeans and a T-shirt, she tossed a cat crate into the van and returned to the Outside Inn. The rain had let up even further, so she parked on the street to avoid Mrs. Higgins coming out to investigate her reasons for being there.
Hefting the crate, she hurried back to Hunter’s window and tapped on the glass. The window shot up, and he grabbed her arm to help her back inside.
“Did you time me?”
“Twenty minutes and fifty-three seconds.” He frowned and pointed at the clock on the nightstand.
“I had to stop a few times to hitch up the shorts.” Aria set the crate on the floor beside the bed and handed him his folded clothes, which she’d stuffed into her oversized bag. She dug around some more and produced a can of tuna.
“His favorite.” She tilted her head toward the cat. “I wish I’d thought to grab some before chasing after him in the first place. Then we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“That’d be a damned shame,” he murmured.
Aria flicked him a glance, her breath catching at the heat lingering in his dark eyes.
Yes, it would.
Forcing her attention away from him, she tore the lid off the tuna and tossed it into the wastepaper basket beside the narrow desk. A sleek laptop computer and dozens of papers and folders cluttered the surface. A business trip, then.
Which begged the question…
She glanced surreptitiously at Hunter’s left hand. No wedding ring, not that that meant much. Not that she should even care about his availability.
Porkchop side-eyed her, whiskers quivering and nose twitching. Aria set the open can in the crate. In a streak of orange-and-black, the cat leapt off the bed and into the crate. Gobbling sounds emerged.
“Gotcha.” She closed and latched the door, throwing Hunter a relieved smile. “I made the mistake earlier of leaving the back door unlocked when I was taking out the trash. That’s how he escaped. That definitely won’t happen again.”
He picked up the crate and carried it to the window. “I’ll bring it to your car.”
“No need. I can take it.”
This time, however, he appeared determined to do things his way. After he’d hefted himself over the windowsill, Aria handed him the crate and climbed through. The rain had finally stopped, and they crossed the wet grass to her old, beat-up van.
“You can put him in here.” She opened the passenger side door and indicated the seat. “I really couldn’t have caught him without you.”
“Not for lack of trying, though.” Amusement shone in his eyes as he set the crate into the van and locked the seatbelt around it. He peered through the crate slats at the cat. “Don’t cause any more trouble, okay? Your mistress isn’t one you should run away from.”
Though his tone was offhanded and casual, his remark lit a glow around Aria’s heart.
Hunter closed the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Silence filled the space between them, threaded with a hint of tension.
“So.” She tightened her fingers around her keys. “I’m sorry again for annoying the crap out of you and all.”
“Actually, I take that comment back.” The overhead streetlight made his dark hair gleam with strands of gold. “Thanks for annoying the crap out of me. You made my evening a hell of a lot more interesting than it otherwise would have been.”
“Well, then. You’re welcome.” She took another reluctant step back and lifted her hand in a little wave. “See you.”
“See you.”
Aria dragged her gaze from him and started around the van to the driver’s side. A sudden impulse seized her. She stopped. Her heartbeat ratcheted up.
Pushing aside all misgivings, all thoughts, she turned and ran back to him. In one movement, she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck. He startled, closing his arms around her tightly the second before she kissed him.
Hard. She pressed and rubbed her lips against his and flicked her tongue out to caress the seam of his lips. He stiffened in surprise. Then his restraint snapped like a rubber band. He lifted one hand to the back of her head and crushed his mouth to hers.
Desire sparked and flamed inside her. He’d lifted her clear off the ground, and her body was pressed fully against his. Tension laced his muscles. A throb pulsed in her veins. She opened her mouth and let him inside. As she’d suspected, as she’d known, he was as deliciously good at hot, greedy kisses as he’d been with a gentle one.
Better, even. He slid his tongue over hers, nibbled at her bottom lip, and licked the corners of her mouth. She squirmed against him, the friction of their bodies hardening her nipples against his chest. Her pleasure blossomed outward, filling her veins.
He drove one hand into her hair, threading his fingers through the damp strands before moving to press his lips to her cheek. His stubble scraped her skin exquisitely, igniting little fires in her veins. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, forcing herself to lift her head.
Lust brewed in his eyes. Her heated breath puffed against his mouth. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground, sliding her body against his. Her heart hammered.
“Thanks for your help,” she whispered.
Before he could speak, she broke away from him and ran back to the van.
“Aria—”
She shifted into gear and pulled onto the street. Every part of her felt warm and glowing. She’d thought the light inside her had gone out long ago.
How crazy and wonderful that he had made it burn so brightly—a captivating stranger she would never see again.
Chapter 4
“Honey, that was no coincidence.” Destiny Storm lifted her coffee mug to her mouth. Her multiple silver rings winked in the morning sunlight. “The cat is your spirit animal. Spirit animals guide us to the places we need to be.”
“I really didn’t need to be on Pelican Beach in the middle of a storm.” Aria sipped her takeout matcha tea and studied the front of Meow and Then, which sat across from Destiny’s Moonbeams store on historic Mariposa Street.
“You came out of the storm, didn’t you?” Destiny quirked an eyebrow. A voluptuous, stunning woman in her mid-thirties, she’d been the first person to hire Aria for a job when Aria was a high-school junior. They’d become fast friends and stayed close even during Aria’s absences from Bliss Cove.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss such a literal message, if I were you,” Destiny added. “Especially one involving a man who sounds like a fantasy come to life.”
Aria considered the idea that Porkchop’s escapade last night had been motivated by spiritual guidance rather than feline defiance.
“It was a random encounter.”
“No encounters are random.” Destiny leaned against the doorway of her shop and flicked a lock of raven-black hair over her shoulder. “Though you might not know for a long time, if ever, why something happens, every single event in your life has led you to this moment.”
On the surface, “this moment” wasn’t much different than twenty-four hours ago, when Aria had also been having a morning cup of tea with Destiny before opening Meow and Then.
But beneath the surface? Deep down inside, in her heart of hearts? The place where she was still rebuilding what she’d lost and constructing the things she’d never had?
Maybe a small change had happened there. Like a seed breaking open or clouds parting. Creating a space for something new to happen.
Aria shook her head and took another sip of tea. She’d thought about Hunter all night. Not only him in all his glowering, cat-rescuing, gentle-kissing glory, but also about how she’d been prompted to throw herself at him. Though the kiss had been incredible, she’d learned her lesson about sp
ontaneity a long time ago—primarily that it led nowhere good.
She’d told Destiny about the cat chase, but she hadn’t confessed that she’d kissed Hunter. That would remain her own little secret. And his.
“Morning, caras.” Nico, the owner of the pizza parlor, came out to sweep the cobblestones in front of his shop. “How are you lovely ladies today?”
“Better now that you’re here.” Destiny smiled.
Nico chuckled. “You both get the contract from that company? Imperial Properties?”
“Mine just came yesterday.” Aria’s shoulders tensed. “I put it right in the trash where it belongs.”
“I hear the Howells are already planning to sign.” Nico nodded toward the large flower shop housed in a crumbling stucco building that had originally been used as a trading post.
“They’ve been wanting to retire for years.” Destiny took a sip of coffee and shrugged. “Can’t imagine anyone wanting to buy the old place. I’ll bet they think Imperial is a godsend.”
“They’re a scourge.” Aria frowned. “Have you responded yet, Nico?”
“No, cara.” He tapped the side of his head. “Still thinking.”
Aria shaded her eyes from the sun and swept her gaze over the old street. The long, narrow stretch of shops was anchored at one end by the Vitaphone movie theater and at the other by the boarded-up Hotel Casa Grande, a gray stucco hotel with half-a-dozen rooms that had once been the town’s main lodging house. Now only the lobby remained open for the Mariposa Business Association meetings.
Mariposa Street had been the first area built by explorers and missionaries in the nineteenth century before a ship captain from Maine turned the town into a shipping port. Over the years Bliss Cove had transformed into a fishing community, then a college town, and then one of many places hit by economic hardship. Despite its struggles, the town retained its quaint seaside culture, with locally owned businesses, a community theater, and a historical museum that preserved Bliss Cove’s colorful heritage.
As Bliss Cove’s downtown grew over the years, the Mariposa neighborhood, unfortunately, had fallen by the wayside. Many of the shop windows were covered with splintered boards, and graffiti defaced the once-elegant building façades. But beneath layers of grime and peeling paint, the evidence of Mariposa’s lively history and culture was clear in the painted clay tiles, intricate plaster ornamentation, and ironwork decorations.
Aria had a soft spot for the oldest part of Bliss Cove, which her historian father had always admired and appreciated. Though when she was younger, she hadn’t really understood his dedication to history, she had distinct childhood memories of walking through Mariposa with him while he told her about the history of the area’s indigenous people prior to the arrival of the Spanish missionaries and all the turmoil of the subsequent years.
Of course, she’d been more interested in getting an ice cream at the time, but when her father died unexpectedly in a car accident a year and a half ago, that memory resurfaced like a brilliant piece of sea glass. She’d clung to it, even after leaving Bliss Cove and plunging into a relationship with a man who had been anything but good for her.
Realizing Steve was capable of physical abuse—that it was only a matter of time before he turned his violent streak on to her—had finally given her the strength to leave him. When she’d returned to Bliss Cove, she’d wanted desperately to confide in her mother and sisters, but Eleanor Prescott’s health scare had sent new shockwaves through their lives and prevented Aria from giving voice to her own mistakes. Even after her mother had been given the “all clear,” Aria had been too ashamed to turn to her family or friends for comfort.
Well, not her human friends anyway. She’d spent countless hours with furry friends at the rescue shelter. Because of the animals—nonjudgmental, friendly, resilient, and loyal—the aftermath of the worst time in her life had become bearable and eventually even hopeful, giving her a purpose she’d never had before.
“I need to get over to Mom’s to pick up my order.” Aria clinked her cup against Destiny’s and waved at Nico. “See you both later.”
“Live in the light, honey,” Destiny said.
Aria crossed the street to Meow and Then, a two-story terracotta building with a tile roof and wrought-iron balcony. In the early twentieth-century, it had been a rooming house owned by a Prescott ancestor, Christine Sterling, a writer, lecturer and suffragette who’d supported herself and her three children after her husband died.
Though Aria wasn’t convinced her encounter with Glowering Stranger was anything more than a random event, she had no doubt that she was meant to purchase the former Sterling House. Five months ago, she’d bought her ancestor’s building with the money her father had left for her and made a plan to open the café.
Not that it had been easy.
Her mother and sisters believed the location was setting her up for failure, and her practical and brilliant older sister Callie, a Classics professor at Skyline College, had advised her to keep her money invested in mutual funds.
Though she understood their objections, Aria had been determined to see her plan through. Before her father died, she’d spent too many years flitting around like a bee, hovering around whatever flower looked the prettiest or smelled the sweetest, because she’d known her sisters and parents would always help her if she happened to choose wrong. But not until she broke up with Steve did she realize she’d never learned how to stand on her own.
Meow and Then was her chance. She had no intention of relying on someone else emotionally or financially ever again.
After picking up her keys, she drove to downtown Bliss Cove and parked in the back lot of the Sugar Joy Bakery. Her mother and older sister Rory were restocking the front counter following the morning rush.
“Hi, honey.” Eleanor Prescott nodded toward three white boxes stacked on the counter. “Your order is just about ready to go. I haven’t boxed the Chaos Cookies yet.”
“I’ll do it.” Aria took the order form off the top box. “You still haven’t invoiced me for last week’s order.”
“I’m happy to donate whatever you need.” Eleanor placed a basket of muffins in the glass display case.
Aria smothered a prickle of exasperation mixed with affection. When they’d learned two months ago that Eleanor had a precancerous lump in her breast, they’d all feared not only the outcome but for her emotional state, which had been so fragile following their father’s death. But Eleanor had proven both resilient and optimistic through the surgery. In fact, she’d been more focused on her daughters than herself, especially with regard to Aria’s venture.
“Mom, you have to charge me. I’m running a business, not a charity.”
“I know, dear.” Though Eleanor smiled, a flicker of concern lit in her eyes.
Aria sighed. She did not want her mother to worry about her. “I need to pay my expenses.”
“Are you using the bookkeeping software?” Rory, a software engineer with long black hair and a penchant for classic rock, took a tray off the baker’s rack. “I can come over and show you how to get the most out of it.”
“Thanks, but I’m figuring it out.” Aria picked up a banana-nut muffin. Though she tried not to let their good intentions get to her, it was hard not to.
She’d grown up with two accomplished older sisters, a scholarly father, and a mother who’d run a successful bakery for years. She, on the other hand, had a personal history of either failing or giving up whatever she tried to start. It was hardly a wonder that her family was still struggling to believe that her café venture would be any different.
Aria was still struggling to believe that herself.
“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re here.” Callie’s voice broke into Aria’s thoughts. Poised and lovely in a beige suit and matching heels with her dark hair tied back in a neat chignon, Callie looked every inch the elegant, sophisticated professor.
Aria edged behind the cold case to hide the fact that she was wearing old skinny j
eans with multiple holes. “No class this morning?”
“Not until ten. Rory, can you get me a coffee to go, please?” Callie waved a copy of The Bliss Cove Gazette at Aria. “Word on the street is that Imperial Properties has issued all the Mariposa owners a new offer. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I just got the letter.”
“Does Imperial still want to build some sort of mixed-use complex there?” Rory grabbed a towel to wipe her hands. “I thought they’d backed off.”
“Until yesterday, so did I.” Aria scanned the front-page story.
Last year in their first takeover attempt—before she had even thought about opening a café, much less one in the district—Imperial Properties had lowballed the Mariposa shop owners. After failing to convince a majority to sell their buildings and land, the company had retreated. From what Aria had heard, everyone believed they were no longer interested.
Surprise.
“They’ve sent us all new buyout offers this past week.” She folded the paper with a snap. Though she had no intention of accepting, her fellow Mariposa owners wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the deal this time around. “The offer expires at midnight on April thirtieth, which is the date of the next Mariposa Association meeting. That’s when all of the building owners collectively vote on whether or not we want to sell.”
If the majority voted no, Aria and Mariposa Street were safe.
But if the majority voted yes, she might not have a choice. She’d have to sell her property, and Imperial would bulldoze the entire district to make way for Oceanview Plaza.
Pushing the newspaper back toward her sister, Aria deflected a stab of fear. She had a month to convince her fellow business owners that their community and town history were far too important to sell to a company that would demolish everything to rubble.
“What are you going to do?” Rory asked.
“Say no.” She took a white box from beneath the counter and started filling it with Chaos Cookies. “I’m not selling my home and business.”