by Nina Lindsey
“So you brought him home?”
“Not right away. A while ago, I was helping Sue out at the shelter, and one of my jobs was to take care of the cats. Within a few days, Jumbo started waiting for me by the door of his enclosure. He’d stay close to me the whole time I was feeding the cats and cleaning the litter boxes, and if I sat down, he’d curl in my lap. It was like he was asking me to adopt him. Then my…”
Old sorrow formed a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to get too personal with Hunter—despite their uneasy truce, he was still her opponent—but she also wanted him to understand that the café was more than just a cute little place for people to drink coffee and play with cats.
“My father died in a car accident.” She folded the dishtowel into a neat square and set it on the counter. “I stopped working at the shelter because I was trying to help my mother and sister—”
Even though Callie hadn’t wanted or needed her help.
She took a breath, her chest knotting. “Then Sue called to tell me that Jumbo was showing symptoms of anxiety…fearful, meowing a lot, not eating. I offered to foster him at my apartment until he found a forever home. After a week, it was pretty clear he’d decided that his forever home was with me.”
A faint smile tugged at Hunter’s mouth. “And you saved him from being a lifelong member of the Lonely Hearts Club.”
“Actually, he saved me.”
The confession was out before Aria realized it was far too personal. His attention sharpened on her in that penetrating way he had, as if he were sensing there was much more to that particular story.
Not that she would ever tell him.
“We should get going.” She turned to pick up her keys. Hunter stood with his hands flat on the counter. The position made his shoulder muscles bunch up beneath his shirt.
“Did you buy this building only because of the ancestral connection?” The question was slightly puzzled, as if he couldn’t fathom another reason for opening a café in such a location. “I get that it would be affordable to open a business in the Mariposa district but...”
His voice trailed off.
“But it’s a stupid business decision,” Aria finished. “My sister Callie has told me that many times.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” He shook his head, his jaw tensing. “Keeping your overhead low is always a good idea. I’m just wondering about your other reasons.”
Aria studied him, trying to see past Hunter Armstrong, VP of Imperial Properties, and back to the man who’d rescued Porkchop and insisted that she change into dry clothes. Though she didn’t think she’d ever be able to reconcile two such different sides of him, she could—grudgingly—accept the fact that he had a right to do his job. Just as she had a right to stand her ground.
“My father loved this district, too.” She started for the door. “And after we lost him, I…made some bad decisions and left Bliss Cove for longer than I should have. I wasn’t really in touch with my mother or sisters either. When I came back, I had a lot to prove to myself and to other people. As Destiny would say, it was no coincidence that this exact building went up for sale less than three weeks after I came home. Or that I could afford to buy it and open the café with the money my father left for me.”
She turned to find him watching her, his arms folded over his chest. Though his expression was shuttered, an emotion gleamed in his eyes that she’d never seen before.
Envy? No. What reason did Hunter have to envy her?
“Come on.” She tilted her head toward the door. “I’ll bet you didn’t know there’s a secret to Mariposa Street.”
“I didn’t.” Hunter followed her outside to the van. “What is it?”
“I’m not going to tell you.” She shot him a sideways glance and pulled open the driver’s side door. “It’s something only the property owners know.”
“So, what if I ask Lois or Gary?” He climbed into the passenger seat.
“They won’t tell you either.” She pushed the key into the ignition. “Destiny won’t tell you even if you flirt with her. I guarantee it.”
“You sound smug.”
“It might be nice to have something over you for a change.”
“Does the secret involve a curse or a wicked spell?”
“I wish.”
She caught his glance. Heat simmered underneath a twinkle of amusement before he turned to pull on his seatbelt. She drove back to the Outside Inn and parked along the street.
Hunter opened the door and nodded toward the ramshackle old inn. “Does this place have a secret, too? Or is it just the Mariposa buildings?”
“There are a lot of secrets in Bliss Cove.” Aria experienced a brief misgiving about showing him the Outside Inn secret. It wasn’t a good idea to let him in any further or to pretend like there wasn’t a huge obstacle between them.
But maybe if he actually knew more about her and Bliss Cove, he’d understand why she was so opposed to the Imperial plan. Maybe he’d even back off a little.
“Follow me.” She hopped out of the van. “I’ll show you this secret.”
She crossed to the front of the inn. A sagging picket fence lined the perimeter of the front yard, and an old wooden sign hung beside the mailbox.
Aria paused at the border of the lawn and pointed to a section of the sidewalk, where several sets of initials were carved.
“A.A.P.” Hunter squinted at the letters. “Is that you?”
“My sister Rory and I, and a few other friends, snuck out here years ago when they were pouring new concrete.” She shook her head with a smile. “Carving our initials ended up being stupid since it didn’t take people long to figure out who’d done it. The concrete company told Mrs. Higgins they’d redo it, but she wanted to keep it. She said it told people that Bliss Cove was the kind of town where no one minded if kids carved their initials into wet concrete. So they’ve been here ever since.”
“What does the A stand for?” He straightened, resting his hands loosely on his hips.
“Anne.”
“Ariadne Anne Prescott.” He said her name as if he were tasting it. “I like it.”
“My father was a scholar of Greek and Roman history and languages,” Aria explained. “He wanted to name me and my sisters after classical heroines. Calista, Ariadne, and Aurora, except Rory never liked her name, so that’s why she’s Rory. My mother is a big fan of nineteenth-century literature, so our middle names are from the Bronte sisters. Calista Charlotte, Aurora Emily, Ariadne Anne.”
“How did they manage to name you that without knowing they’d have three girls?”
“My mother had a whole list of other options,” Aria explained. “But my father said he just always knew he’d have three girls, like King Lear.”
Hunter chuckled, and the deep vibration sank into Aria’s veins. “Good thing he didn’t want to name you after King Lear’s daughters.”
“Right? We’ve counted our blessings, believe me.”
“So your sister Callie didn’t participate in the concrete art?” He indicated the initials.
“Oh, no. She was way too good for sneaking out at night and vandalizing a square of sidewalk. She was probably at home studying.”
“She’s a brain, huh?” He turned as they walked back to the van. “I got that vibe from her.”
“She’s had that vibe since she was born.” Though guilt and frustration nudged her at the thought of Callie, Aria couldn’t help smiling faintly. For her entire life, her sister had been so unwaveringly constant.
“My father called us Rock, Paper, and Scissors,” she said. “Callie, of course, was the rock. I was paper, which according to him meant light, flexible, always ready for a story or adventure. Rory was scissors, razor-sharp and with the ability to both shred things apart and shape them to fit perfectly.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man.”
“He was. We miss him a lot.”
The back of Hunter’s hand brushed against hers. A pleasurable tingle spre
ad clear up her arm. She paused by the van and tilted her head to look up at him. Dusky shadows cut across his strong features, and the overhead street light shone on his hair.
“Destiny said you told her about our cat rescue encounter.” He edged closer, his eyes darkening. “She also said it was no coincidence that we both happened to be there at the same time.”
“She believes we’re meant to be wherever we end up.” Her heart began a low, heavy thumping in her blood.
“Then we’re meant to be right here.”
Tension threaded the air. She flicked her tongue out to lick her dry lips. The warning signal flashed in the back of her mind, but it was fainter now, almost distant. Despite his grumpiness when they’d first met, she’d sensed Hunter was a good guy the instant he helped her with her cat. She’d suppressed that instinctive knowledge after discovering he was with Imperial because it was easier to think of him as the enemy.
She didn’t want to think of him that way anymore. She’d made her decision about the contract. He knew it. Nothing he said or did would change her mind.
So there was really no need to keep quarreling about it.
She gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks again for your help with the cats.”
“Hmm.” He furrowed his brow. “Last time you thanked me, you prefaced it with a very hot kiss.”
Heat rushed to Aria’s cheeks. “Well, that was…er, you kissed me first.”
“Yes, I did.” A husky note infused his voice.
The distance between them had shrunk. Her back came up against the side of the van. He towered over her, his gaze trapping her, his body crowding her in. Shivers ran over her skin.
“And…” He planted one hand on the van behind her and slipped his gaze to her mouth. “I’m going to kiss you again.”
Her breath shortened, every nerve coming to life at his mention of their kiss. Kisses. She wanted it too—their lips and bodies pressing together, his hands cupping her neck, his heart beating against hers. A light had turned on inside her the night they’d met, and despite the obstacles between them, she didn’t want it to go out.
Not yet.
She gave him the slightest nod. His eyes filled with heat. He lowered his head. A thousand fireworks exploded inside her at the touch of his warm lips against hers. She lifted her hand to his muscular chest. His heartbeat pounded beneath her palm, a strong steady pulse that echoed in her blood.
He muttered a noise low in his throat, tilting her head back and increasing the pressure of the kiss. Pleasure twined through Aria’s body, intensifying her simmering arousal. Then their mouths were locked together, hot and deep, and her whole body arched toward him in surrender. She drove her hand into his hair as their tongues danced and lips caressed.
Hunter planted his other hand on the van behind her, caging her in the secure circle of his arms. A striking sense of safety descended over her, as if her instincts had known all along that while they were in opposition, she had nothing to fear from him. He would use his strength to protect, not to threaten or provoke fear.
She unclenched her fingers from his thick hair and slid her palm down to his neck, where his pulse beat heavily. He eased his lips from hers and trailed a kiss over her cheek to her ear. She closed her eyes. He grasped her hips, edging his knee between her legs.
When had she last felt like this? So hot and hungry, her body already alive with sensation from one kiss. His stubble scraped her neck deliciously as he pressed his lips to her collarbone. He was so warm, as if he’d absorbed the heat of the afternoon sun, his skin smelling like salt and the faint aroma of citrus soap. Aria let out a soft moan of pleasure, the growing ache in her core tempting her to writhe against his thigh in a search for release.
He tightened his hold on her hips and lifted his head. He tracked his smoldering gaze over her face, her lips and heated cheeks, down to the arch of her neck and lower. His eyes lingered on her breasts, which rose and fell with the force of her breath.
Aria was seized with the urge to unbutton her dress and feel his hot gaze on her naked skin. Then she wanted to take off his shirt and touch all the sculpted muscles of his body that—
Abruptly, Hunter pushed away from her. His hands fisted. Frustration extinguished the lust burning in his expression.
Aria pressed her palm to her racing heart and tried to collect her composure. If she didn’t know quite well that fairness was not part of life, she’d have railed against the irony of being so attracted to a man she could never actually have.
“Aria.” He faced her, his voice rough. “I wasn’t supposed to be here.”
She blinked. “Where?”
“Here.” Spreading his arms out, he stepped back onto the sidewalk. “The night you lost your cat. I was supposed to be in San Francisco for a meeting with one of the Oceanview investors. But his flight from Seattle was delayed, and he texted me to reschedule. So I drove down here a day early. Mrs. Higgins didn’t have an upstairs room ready, so she asked if I’d stay in the Rosebud Room for one night. There are five rooms and a guest cottage at the Outside Inn.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“There was a one in six chance that she’d put me in that room.” He strode a few paces, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Given everything else that had to happen, I don’t even know what the chances were of me being here on the night that your cat escaped. Much less the chances of Porkchop taking cover right under my window. Or of me even hearing you because I was going to take a shower and decided to answer an email first, which was the only reason I was sitting at the desk, which just happens to be next to the window. If I’d been in the shower, I wouldn’t have heard you.”
Not a coincidence.
“Hunter.”
He stopped and looked at her, his eyes dark. “I don’t believe in fate.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Or in luck or destiny or any of that crap.” A glower descended over his face. “I believe in hard work and rational thinking.”
“So do I.”
“Then how do you explain this?” He gestured abruptly between them, his glower deepening.
“I also believe that not everything can be explained.” Aria approached him, her breathing shallow. “And that everything you just said means you were supposed to be in the Rosebud Room at the exact moment that Porkchop and I showed up. If you hadn’t been, I never would have caught him. I wouldn’t have climbed through the window of your room. You wouldn’t have kissed me. Ever.”
“And you wouldn’t have thrown off my plans,” he retorted. “I plan for everything in life. When I was a kid, I wanted a life that was the exact opposite of the shithole I lived in, so I planned my entire future. I have schedules, timelines, spreadsheets. I have strategies for all possible outcomes. But none of my strategies…none…could have prepared me for you.”
Aria swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight. “Is that a good thing?”
“I’ve always told myself the unexpected is not a good thing.” He studied her. “That’s why I plan.”
“But sometimes you have to change your plans, right?” She felt as if they were poised on the edge of a cliff, primed to leap without knowing what lay at the bottom. “Life doesn’t always go the way we expect it to. Coincidences, fate, serendipity…all of those things affect what we think is going to happen or what we expect to happen.”
Hunter reached out to curl a lock of her hair around his finger. He tucked it behind her ear and dropped his hand back to his side.
“I sure as hell didn’t expect you.” He stepped away from her. “Ever. And I have no idea what to do with you now.”
His expression closed off. He turned and walked back to the inn.
Chapter 13
Aria sat in the darkened van, her gaze on the lighted windows perforating the Outside Inn. She pushed the key into the ignition, then stopped. Before she could talk herself out of it, she jumped out of the van and hurried around the side of the inn.
&nb
sp; Maneuvering through the boxwood shrubs and hydrangeas, she reached the window of the Rosebud Room and tapped on the glass.
The curtains shot aside. Hunter pushed up the window with a frown. “What are you doing here?”
“Avoiding Mrs. Higgins.” She hitched herself onto the sill, muttering a curse when her foot couldn’t find purchase on the wall and her skirt snagged on a rough section of brick.
“We seem to do that a lot.” Grasping her waist, Hunter pulled her up through the open window and steadied her with one hand. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Aria pushed her dress back down over her legs. “There’s a singing fish on the wall of the Mousehole Tavern.”
He blinked. “Okay.”
“Rory hates it.”
“Given what you’ve told me about her, I can understand that.” He closed the window and pulled the curtains shut.
“She hates it because it’s ugly and annoying, but mostly because it’s useless. A singing fish has no purpose in Rory’s life. She doesn’t know what anyone would do with it.”
A shadow darkened Hunter’s eyes. He crossed his arms, his feet apart in his solid, tycoon stance. “Your point?”
“I am not a singing fish.” Aria fisted her hands. Her heartrate kicked up. “If you don’t know what to do with me, then you have seriously misjudged what’s been happening here. Let me fill you in.”
She spread her arms out. “Even though we are on opposing sides of a major negotiation, and I wanted nothing to do with you when I found out you’re with Imperial, and even though I won’t tell you the Mariposa Street secret, I just told you a great many of mine. I have a hundred reasons to distrust wealthy, successful men, and I have even more reasons to distrust my feelings about such men.
“But despite all of that, I’ve told you about my family, my father, my cat, and why I’m so determined to keep my property. I’ve let you kiss me, and I’ve kissed you back with profound enthusiasm. Honestly, Hunter, if you haven’t figured out what to do with me by now, then you must need an instruction book because I have a very good idea what to do with you.”