“I see a major surprise for you, dear: important people coming into your life, probably very soon, who will overturn a lot of deep-seated beliefs. And because all change occurs for the good, so we evolve higher as we go, this unsettling event will present you with life choices you could not have made before, because you weren’t ready for them, and because the time and your circumstances weren’t right yet.”
“Sheesh.” Angie’s gut tightened, and she wished Lenore would keep some of this stuff to herself. “Now you’ve really got me wondering. And this involves Ross and me?”
“Yes, although not in the way you’re probably thinking. Not romantically.” As Lenore gazed at the spread again, emotions and memories flickered across her otherwise-placid face. She didn’t look frightened, yet the seer appeared to be planning her words carefully. “You’ll be asked to make a great leap of faith, Angela. I hope you’ll keep your mind and soul open to some unexpected possibilities in the next week or so.”
Angie reached for the pen and paper with a trembling hand. “I’ll sketch this spread, too, like you suggested. But if it’s all the same with you, Lenore, I’ve learned as much as I can handle for one session. Believing Ross will leave Rita for me is the only leap I want to look at right now.”
Twelve
“RITA, we’ve talked about this before. I had my reasons for not marrying you, just like you had reservations about committing again after your divorce.” Ross steeled himself for the meltdown: it was never a good thing when Rita hugged herself and pressed her lips into a tight line. “And we’ve agreed—several times—that we’re both free to see other people.”
She just stared at him, damn it. Got that wounded, whipped-puppy expression and said nothing. A single tear slithered down her cheek.
“There’s no good time or way to say this, but it’s over,” he insisted quietly. “I won’t be coming to your apartment anymore. Won’t be answering those late-night calls to keep you company.”
“What does she have that I don’t?” It was a deadly serious question. One that teetered on the rim of a glowing volcano. “Ross, how can you forget what we’ve shared over so many years?”
“I’m not forgetting! I’m moving on, as we both agreed to do.”
“And how can you think this total stranger can satisfy you?” she demanded in a rising voice. “One or two quickies, and you’re already devoting yourself to this…this…”
“It isn’t that way with Angie. I—”
Rita let out an exaggerated gasp. “Do not tell me you haven’t screwed her. And if you haven’t, then throwing yourself at her is even more ridiculous, Ross! I know you, damn it. You can’t keep your hands off anything with boobs!”
Stifling a sigh, Ross searched for the right words. No matter how he announced his departure, Rita McQueen would refuse to believe him. He almost gripped her shoulders to get her full attention, but touching her anywhere would only make this more impossible. “I want my house key, Rita. Here’s yours.”
As he removed her apartment key from his ring, Rita’s vibrations grew. Was it a fluke of morning sunlight, or were the crystals in her glass case glowing with her projected anger? He’d come to the Tea and Tarot as soon as she opened, figuring it would be quiet at this hour and assuming she would’ve taken her morning meds. It was a double whammy when Rita spun into a high cycle without regulating her mood swings, but he had to do this now. Had to declare himself free and let her emotional lava spew where it would.
As Ross held up her key, she slapped it from his fingers. It pinged on the hardwood floor, accentuating the moment of calm before the storm.
“If you think for one goddamned minute I’m going to return your key, you’re…”
Her face crumpled even as she shot daggers from her eyes. “This is insane! If you can’t trust me to stay out of your house, out of your fucking life, well—”
“I want my key, Rita.” He slipped his key ring back into his pocket, clenching his teeth against what he’d wanted to say for years now. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her; he just wanted out. He wanted Angie. And peace. And stability. And…
Too long she’s controlled your life with her habits, her fits. You’re doing this for Angie’s safety more than for your own gratification. Because if you lose Angie…
He nipped that thought in the bud, couldn’t let it take shape, because then it might become real. To distance himself, Ross retrieved the key from the floor.
“Your behavior last night—barging into Angie’s room—was inexcusable, Rita,” he said in a low voice. He glanced through the front windows: no one on the street yet, thank God. “How can you expect me to trust you now? Why should I remain your lover, when you only stay with me out of desperation? The love left this relationship long ago, if it ever really existed, Rita. So one more time: please give me my key.”
“Hah! Who’s the drama queen now?” Her hands fluttered and then she plucked at the buttons on her silk blouse. “Angie’ll be on her way in no time, and then you’ll come running back to me, Ross! We’ve been though this before, when you thought you left me for Elena—”
Ross flipped open his cell phone, thumbed a number, ignoring Rita’s open blouse and the tanned cleavage above her white push-up bra. “Yeah, Kyle?” he said in the breeziest voice he could muster. “You’re coming in for practice tomorrow night, right?”
“Still want me to look at those bungalows, I hope?” the man said.
“Yep. And bring three new locks for my place. The doorknob kind, as well as dead bolts.”
Kyle’s pause matched the dumbfounded expression on Rita’s face. “Sure, I can do that. Your, uh, life insurance paid up, buddy?”
Ross wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t funny. “Thanks, guy. Catch you later.”
“Sounds like somethin’ I’ll wanna hear all about. Drinks’re on me.”
“You’re on.” He closed his phone, awaiting Rita’s next thunderclap. Her fits were so predictable it wasn’t funny, even now that he’d mentally stepped away.
“What in the hell was that about? What are you trying to prove, Ross?” Rita’s voice vacillated between a huskiness he used to consider sexy and a shrill vibrato that signaled an oncoming blowout. She was revving herself, ready to ramp up this confrontation to the next level. Just as she had a hundred times before.
Yet, it felt different this time, not because Rita was any less determined to keep him, but because he finally had a tangible reason to leave her. In fact, as her face contorted and tears spilled from eyes now ringed in wet mascara, Ross wondered why he’d tolerated this behavior for so long. Why had he stayed with a woman who manipulated everyone with her moods? Who derived her power—her pleasure—from acting powerless? By allowing Rita to create that reality around him, he’d held himself captive in her beliefs for far too long.
Of course in her mind, she was powerless. And to her way of thinking, he was bound to her by Tyler, their son—another of those reasons couples stayed together after the love fizzled out.
Ross suddenly wondered what he’d ever seen in her. This Rita McQueen was a different woman altogether from the lover he’d clung to when Terri rejected his extrasensory gifts. And while it was true she’d nearly killed herself several years ago, she was still alive and trying to call his shots, wasn’t she? If he taught his numerology clients to live in the present moment, to stop living their past stories and write new ones based on the here and now, why hadn’t he caught himself creating the same trap?
This epiphany struck him in the gut. He turned to go.
“When I call Tyler and tell him—”
“Do whatever you want, Rita,” he said quietly. “It isn’t my concern anymore.” And Ross walked out, celebrating his freedom in the tinkling of the bell above her door, in the sweet caress of the ocean breeze.
As he reached the corner of the vintage brick building, glass shattered behind him. Shards of a Blue Willow teapot lay on the sidewalk, surrounded by large chunks of the Tea and Tarot’s storefront wi
ndow. Ross paused but fought the habitual response of responding to her. He opened his phone, thinking he could now take Craig Cramer’s number off his speed dial.
“Yes, Merle, would you please let Dr. Cramer know that Rita’s having a difficult time of it this morning? She’s at the shop…Yes, thank you, dear.”
Then he called the sheriff. “Yeah, Darrel? Ross Costello. Might want to send a deputy to clean up some glass in front of Tea and Tarot before somebody gets hurt. Yeah, Rita seems, uh, unstable this morning,” he added. Then he chuckled. “And if she makes wild accusations about me leaving her for another woman? This time she’s right.”
He tucked his phone back in its holster. Again the breeze flowed around him, and he shut his eyes to breathe in its freshness.
He felt so damn good right now. In control of his life for the first time in years! Oh, Rita wasn’t finished hurling hateful, hurtful remarks at him, and she would find ways to make Angie miserable, too. Ms. McQueen firmly believed one of them would cave in and let her ruin a love that already surpassed anything he’d ever known. Yet something inside him had gone cool and blue and serene. In his mind’s eye, Ross saw Angie’s sweet smile. He lifted his face to the sun and smiled back at her.
She had no idea, but she had just saved his life.
Thirteen
“ANGIE, I hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds, but I’ve invited a friend—a top-notch carpenter who rehabs vintage homes—to look at the bungalow on Windswept this afternoon.” Ross took her hand, his smile cautious yet dazzling. “The vibes there were so strong the other day, I…I just had to see what Kyle would say about the house’s possibilities.”
“Possibilities?” Angie swallowed hard. “Like, what sort of possibilities are we talking about?”
Time came to a standstill on the Harmony Lodge patio. Surely Ross was talking as a Realtor, investing in some of his listed properties to increase the likelihood they’d sell. That whole row of homes needed a facelift, so perhaps he was being civic-minded rather than playing to her deep desires to own 24 Windswept Lane. She’d only met him, what? Four days ago?
But in four incredible days, look how much you’ve learned! How your life has turned around! You’re a whole new Angie!
That voice in her head sounded stronger than ever, and so damned encouraging. How could she possibly doubt what she was hearing? A burst of sunlight through the clouds reminded her of the Lovers card she’d drawn during her tarot session: wasn’t this the same energy Lenore had described for those ladies dressed in red, their power and passion? It was too good, too soon, and yet…
“Did I spook you, babe? If I’ve moved too quickly, I’ll back off.”
Angie let out the breath she’d been holding. When she smoothed the wind-riffled waves at Ross’s temple, his ebony hair felt as soft and sexy as she’d imagined. But that didn’t exactly make her more rational. She should be thinking rather than responding to him on such a sensual level.
“It’s a reaction to what I’ve learned from my tarot work with Lenore.”
“And do the events match up? Or am I way off the mark?”
Oh, this man would never miss when he aimed his crystal blue gaze at her! Angie fought a giddy grin. “Things are going precisely as I—as the cards—predicted. Which is just another way things in this town seem to affect me, Ross. It’s eerie and sort of scary, and yet…”
He cocked his head, his dimples winking. When had a man ever paid such close attention to what she said and how she felt? Especially when it came to those gut hunches she couldn’t explain. Time and again Gregg had blown her off—had made promises and then done what he’d intended to do all along. But here, among these intuitive people who enveloped her with their mysterious power, who taught her about her own untapped power, everything was falling into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle she hadn’t ever seen before.
“If I’m going too fast, please tell me. I will not obligate you to anything against your will, sweetheart, because—”
“Oh, I’ve been your willing victim all along, Ross.”
“—I’m having Kyle look at three or four of those homes on Windswept. As investments for myself, and in the future of this little town,” he added emphatically. He placed his warm hands on her shoulders, and his beard gleamed in the sunlight when he grinned. “This excites me, Angie. It’s all about you, yes, but it’s so much more. When I broke it off with Rita yesterday, I felt like a man set free.”
Angie’s heart skipped a beat. He was so damned sexy, and his excitement was contagious.
“And then I realized—like in that old Eagles song—that I’d held the key all along. I’d made myself Rita’s prisoner, thinking that because she nearly overdosed once, she needed me to take care of her even though I no longer saw a future with her.” He sighed like a happy, satisfied man. “But she’s behind me now. Staying with Rita was doing neither of us any good.”
“Just like tolerating Gregg’s hazing eventually cost me my job.” Angie nodded, sadder but wiser. “After years of tiptoeing around his threats, I called his bluff by demanding the divorce, and then the restraining order. Had to step wayyyy back to see how deep a grave I’d dug. He wasn’t doing it to me, like I’d always believed.”
“Exactly. And now it’s all working out. The universe was just waiting for us to wise up.” Ross kissed her quickly and then grabbed her in a hug. “Angie, if any of this hits you wrong, say so. I so want to make you happy.”
I so want to make you happy. Wow, this guy was falling fast. Whatever Ross saw in her, he was beaming uncontrollably, so damn sure they had a future together.
As she immersed herself in the clean, virile scent of him, savored the strength of his arms and body, Angie melted. She merged with him on a level so elemental she ceased to think or breathe. She merely floated, her heartbeat synchronized with his.
His kiss was so tender it made her go still inside. Their lips found a sweet, effortless rhythm and a pressure so perfect that Angie drifted along without thinking. Just being. Just here and now, lost in the perfection of the present moment.
“Don’t mind me,” Lenore said behind them. “Just fetching the hummingbird feeders.”
Angie snickered. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel us before you came out.”
“Is that the hot spot I sensed on this side of the house?” Her mentor smiled fondly at them as she took down the two feeders. “Why do I have a feeling I won’t be seeing much of you for the rest of the day?”
“Ross is having the cottage rehabbed. And the ones around it, too! Isn’t that the coolest thing?” Angie kept her arms twined around Ross’s neck, not the least bit embarrassed that Lenore had caught them kissing. And wasn’t that a novel thought? She’d always felt self-conscious about public displays of affection—not that Gregg had acted romantic when anyone else was around.
Lenore’s smile seemed reserved. “That’s a big step. In less than a week.”
Ross shrugged. “I’ve thought about acquiring those places as an investment, and Angie’s connection felt too fortuitous to ignore. Kyle Iverson’s looking them over before our rehearsal tonight.”
One silvery eyebrow rose. “Chances are good he’ll stumble across some situations you weren’t expecting.”
“Yeah, it’s always that way when you poke around in older homes.” Ross flashed a confident smile. “He’s the only rehab-ber I trust to respect the Craftsman design as he brings the wiring and plumbing up to code. Other guys would try to sell me vinyl siding and interior finishes that are more about profit than restoration.”
“There’s more to those homes than meets the eye,” Lenore agreed. She focused intently on Angie then, her eyes as gray-blue as the shimmering Pacific. “Kyle’s passion for the past makes him the perfect man for this job. Still, it’s an ambitious undertaking. I hope everything goes the way you want it to.”
What did that mean? Once again Angie felt alerted more by Lenore’s tone than her words, as though her mentor was sending her an uns
poken heads-up. When she glanced at Ross, however, she couldn’t help catching his enthusiasm for this project. Even if the bungalow of her childhood weren’t finally coming within her reach, it pleased her to know he cared so much about preserving vintage architecture that set Harmony Falls apart from other little coastal towns.
“Shall we look the place over again?” he asked. “I need specific ideas before Kyle arrives, so he can shoot me an accurate estimate. Says he can start work right away.”
The devilish rise of his eyebrows made Angie laugh. Ross had ideas, all right, and they had nothing to do with paint and nails.
As she climbed into the Navigator, Angie sensed she’d be a different woman when she left the house on Windswept than when she stepped inside it today. This was about her personal restoration as much as the bungalow’s. And this project’s time had come.
As Ross opened the bungalow’s door, he felt like a kid again. That itchy-twitchy sensation of wanting Angie, of knowing she wanted him and that it was only a matter of time, maybe moments, before they came together, made him fumble the key before he got it into the lock.
Angie cleared her throat. “Trouble hitting the hole? Hmmm.”
“Don’t go there, babe, unless you’re ready to go there.” He opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him inside. Her cheeks were the pink of the hydrangea blooming at the corner of the porch, and her eyes sparkled like the beveled glass in the picture window. Angie Cavanaugh belonged here, just as she belonged with him. And they both knew it.
As she stood in the center of the front room, her sigh of anticipation upped the ante and raised all vibrations. Once again he felt her history, her sweetness, her eagerness to proceed on the course destiny had designed for them. If they didn’t focus on the house, on what he wanted to discuss when Kyle arrived, he’d be too far gone to hold a rational conversation.
“So how do you remember these rooms, Ange? It would be easy for Kyle to duplicate your memories,” he remarked. “The cosmetic stuff should be simple, since the basic structure and the built-ins have remained the same through the years. We’ll let Iverson tend to the plumbing and electrical upgrades.”
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