by Kat Cantrell
“Something else that needs to be fixed, immediately,” he said with a scowl. “You deserve romance and to have someone pay a lot of attention to you. Bring you flowers and give you presents for no reason.”
Her expression was nothing short of dazed. “I would like that.”
He would like to be the man who did those things for her. If he had to postpone taking off to give them to her, that wasn’t so bad.
The bad part was how his greedy, contact-starved soul had latched on to hope that the rest of the prediction was going to come true. That Aria was every bit the healing power he’d been searching for and hadn’t found yet because he’d resisted slowing down long enough to let it happen.
“You know what else I would like?” she asked him sweetly.
“If we could just go swimming and forget all of this heavy stuff?” he suggested, only half joking. If he’d known he’d have his head spun around this many times in the course of an hour, he’d have packed better.
She hesitated long enough that it became apparent she’d rather have kept hashing out the parameters of this fledgling relationship that had somehow sprung up in a matter of minutes. He started to tell her that was fine, hash away, when she nodded. “That was first on my list, after all. Well, no. Getting to that kiss was the whole list. But after that…definitely taking the plunge.”
“I’m all in.”
And he meant that in as many ways as she wanted to take it. How he’d honor that promise remained to be seen, but his will wasn’t strong enough to deny what was happening between them. And neither did he intend to miss a minute of being with a woman who’d orchestrated this entire outing because she’d hoped he’d finally kiss her. Since he’d ached for that too, they were both winners.
After they ditched their shoes, he took her hand and led her to the edge of the rock where the crystal blue water quietly waited for them to jump. It was clear enough to see straight to the bottom and deep enough to take a body from ten feet up.
They leaped in tandem, hitting the water with a giant splash. The cold engulfed him, refreshing, shocking. He held his breath as it closed over his head and then kicked to the surface, easily compensating for his sodden clothes that weighed a lot less than the scuba gear he’d spent more than his share of time wearing while under water. Her fingers slipped from his as they broke above the water line at the same time.
“That was awesome,” he told her.
She treaded water next to him, rivulets streaming from her hair. Wet, she was even more devastating than she’d been up on the rock, post-kiss. Why she didn’t have a thousand men beating down her door, he’d never know. He just thanked his lucky stars that all those idiots had cleared the way for him.
“That’s why I suggested it,” she said, her smile becoming infectious enough to tease one out of him. “You only get one first time. I figured we should make it count.”
Oh, every bit of this had counted.
She kicked away with a splash and he followed her. They explored the basin together, laughing, kissing, touching—though the wet clothes provided both the much-needed barrier he’d intended them to be, as well as an incentive for him to figure out how to extend the magic past tonight. Which was the worst sort of selfish. Better to just enjoy the spell of the springs and forget about it tomorrow.
Eventually the sun went down and the water grew too cold to stay in it. Reluctantly, Isaiah rolled to the shore and dragged Aria into his arms to warm up her shivering body. They hadn’t eaten since lunch but he couldn’t find the energy to care about anything other than her.
“This was everything you promised it to be,” he murmured into her hair. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Then don’t end it,” she suggested softly, her tone contradicting the sudden stiffness of her body. “I get that you’re not a roots kind of guy. It’s part of what I find breathlessly attractive about you. You make me think about how big and wide the world is. I want to see it. What if—”
His heart went into a free fall as she ground to a halt, right when she’d opened up a conversation that had completely piqued his interest. What if was his favorite phrase all at once.
“Don’t stop now, sweetheart.” He tightened his arms around her for fortification. This wasn’t easy to navigate for him either, but she gave him courage. Maybe he could do the same for her. “Be bold. You talk all you want about how attractive you find me.”
She laughed, as he’d intended, but more importantly, she relaxed against him, her body losing all of its sudden tension. “I like a lot of things about you. But what I was going to say is that you make me feel bold. As if I can do things I never thought I could. Like leave Superstition Springs.”
The whisper of a suggestion floated through him as he internalized what she’d left unsaid. “You mean with me.”
“Maybe you don’t want that,” she gushed out in a rush, as if he’d been about to protest the idea. “I didn’t intend to bring it up so soon. I mean, just think about it. I’m not asking for anything to be set in stone—”
“Aria.” He laid his lips on her temple. “I’m thinking about it.”
He wasn’t. Not really. Even if she was serious, which he highly doubted, he couldn’t be responsible for tearing her away from her home, the only place she’d ever known. And for what? A broken man who was good at shirking commitment and bad at doing the only job he’d ever loved? No. She’d gotten all caught up in the magic, as had he, but that didn’t change reality. Come tomorrow, the best he could hope for was a precious, minor extension to the bliss he’d gotten lucky enough to experience for this brief flash in time.
Sixteen
“Are you going to hum like that all day?”
Aria glanced up from the sink to see Ember stalk into the kitchen, her expression nothing short of annoyed. Her sister plunked down at the ancient wooden table and pulled a bowl from the center where Serenity kept them due to sheer lack of cabinet space, then poured out a bunch of cornflakes.
“Probably,” Aria responded cheerfully and went back scrubbing the carrots she’d picked up from Voodoo Grocery a few minutes ago with the intent of making Isaiah carrot salad for lunch.
When they’d parted last night—reluctantly—it had been contingent on the premise that he’d come by so they could see each other alone before he had to get back to the barn for some final touches. She’d stayed away from him all morning, allegedly so he could focus on finishing the project without distraction, but that was just a lie she’d told herself.
Really, she didn’t want to rock the boat. If she crowded him, he might become a flight risk and she couldn’t stand to think she might be the one who pushed him away.
He hadn’t left town, as she’d discovered from Cassidy. She’d been afraid to ask, afraid to hope. But he was still here, still working on the barn. Still taking up an enormous amount of real estate inside her.
His continued presence might not mean anything significant. Or it might. She tried not to assign too much importance to it, or the brief conversation they’d had regarding the possibility of them hitting the county line together. It was hard enough to reconcile that they were now a couple. Or something. That had yet to be established, but she didn’t think it would help to slap a bunch of labels all over everything when she didn’t quite know what she wanted to call their relationship yet.
It felt fragile and precarious and like if she put any sort of stock in the things he’d said last night, she’d only wind up heartbroken.
All she knew was that the humming seemed to be involuntary, an expression of the huge thing inside her that she couldn’t contain. Ember could find another place to eat breakfast at—Aria glanced at the clock—eleven-twenty if she didn’t like the music.
“Judd doing okay?” Aria asked her sister, strictly to be polite. Serenity had ingrained that kind of thing into her. If you were in the kitchen with another human, you chatted about everything and nothing companionably. All women in Superstition Springs held the same phil
osophy.
Except Ember apparently. “Why are you asking? Afraid I’ve lost my kid somewhere? Or do you just want to jump on the bandwagon with everyone else to criticize my mothering skills?”
“Um…” Geez. Aria rolled her eyes at her carrots and started scraping off the skins into the scratched porcelain basin. “Maybe I was just curious. Who’s criticizing your mom-ness?”
Ember sighed. “Who isn’t? I’m doing it all wrong according to Serenity. Mavis J is suddenly an authority on proper discipline of a seven-year-old. Augusta Moon makes snarky comments pretty much every time she sees me. I’m chalking that one up to the fact that she’s convinced I used to…date her husband, though.”
Yeah, it wasn’t hard to fill in the pause with another word that better described what she’d actually done with Matthew Moon, but as per usual, Ember hadn’t confirmed or denied the rumors Aria had heard for years. “What do you think about the job you’re doing?”
Surprise flew across Ember’s pretty face, but she squelched it fast. Also typical. Ember didn’t like anyone getting the drop on her. She fiddled with a long curl of strawberry-gold hair as she chewed her cereal deliberately before swallowing and answering.
“He seems okay, doesn’t he?” She didn’t wait for an answer, clearly deeming the question rhetorical. “Grows like a weed, so obviously I’m not starving him.”
Her sister’s tone said she wasn’t so keen on the concept of chatting. Not a new revelation. Some days, Aria wondered why she’d been so upset about the fact that both Havana and Ember had taken off when in reality, they hadn’t been all that close in the first place. Ember and Havana always fought and as the youngest sister, Aria had often been forgotten. She and Havana were building their relationship back up again, but Ember…totally different story.
Which begged the other question her sister had never confirmed—why she’d come back home when she so clearly didn’t want to be here. It was only a matter of time before she got fed up and left again. Would it be something to beat her to the punch and leave first?
Havana bustled into the kitchen to form a party of three that should have been a party of one who was expecting the man she’d just started seeing. Dating. Falling in love with. Take your pick.
How was she going to get them out of here before Isaiah showed up? The last thing she wanted to do was admit that she’d veered hard to the right in her quest for Tristan and landed in Isaiah’s lap, almost literally. A blush heated her cheeks as she recalled exactly what he’d felt like under her backside as he’d held her on the banks of the spring.
“Just in time,” Ember muttered as she glared at Havana. “Maybe Aria can start cross-examining you now instead.”
Please. That was not what she’d been doing, but obviously Ember her had her own interpretation of what kinds of things sisters were supposed to discuss.
Lifting her hands in a what’s-up gesture, Havana peeked in the sink to presumably see what Aria was working on. “Nice carrots. I’ve got nothing to hide. Examine away.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ember jumped in before Aria could clarify that she’d only been asking simple questions. “That I’m trying to hide something?”
“Sounds like a Freudian thing to me,” Havana said with a laugh, which made Ember’s face crinkle up in a scowl. “Overly defensive much? Only someone trying to hide something would jump all over my comment.”
“I lost the bet,” Aria offered abruptly, determined to get her sisters to stop arguing at any cost, even if she had to hedge a little on why she’d lost. Both of them turned in her direction instantly, the words on their lips dying as she gave them a pained smile. “You both win. Tristan didn’t ask me out. Totally not interested. It was fine though. He was really sweet about it.”
“Honey, you lost that bet a long time ago,” Ember advised her with a sly wink. “How’s Isaiah, by the way? Oh, don’t look so shocked. At least four people saw you head to the springs with him last night.”
Havana clapped her hands in glee. “Story time. Everyone knows what happens at the springs when you go with a man you like.”
“Not me,” Aria muttered, ducking her head. She should have just grated the carrots and closed her mouth. “It wasn’t like that. It was…”
Spiritual. That was the only way to describe how truly soul-deep she’d felt the connection to Isaiah. That’s the only reason she’d gotten the courage to blurt out the idea she’d been kicking around about leaving with him—and he’d said he was thinking about it. That made it real and she’d been running that scenario through her head today too. But all of that would sound stupid out loud.
“That good, huh?” Ember cackled. “Guess that means you’re babysitting, and none too soon. I’ve been wanting to check out this bar in Bastrop, so it’s perfect timing.”
“A bar?” Havana wrinkled her nose. “That’s a dumb place to troll for a man.”
“I’m not trolling for anything,” she shot back. “It’s field research. I’m thinking of opening my own place. What makes you think I’m hot for a man anyway? They’re all losers.”
“Isaiah’s not,” Aria protested at the same moment Havana said, “Speak for yourself. My fiancé is brilliant. A liquor license is frightfully expensive, so word to the wise if you’re serious.”
That was the first Aria had heard about Ember having permanent plans that involved Superstition Springs. It put a squiggle in her stomach to think that her sister might be here to stay on the eve of Aria deciding it might be time to find her own adventure. Jury was still out on whether she could actually do it, and this new twist threw the concept into an even more uncertain light.
Oh, goodness. Why would she let anything Ember did sway her? She’d never had one lick of consideration for Aria’s feelings on the matter when she’d hightailed it out of town. Havana either. Aria was an adult who could jolly well make her own choices about a future that may or may not include living here.
And she felt daring enough in that moment to do it.
“I am serious,” Ember said as she crossed to the sink to deposit her empty cereal bowl. As she rinsed it out, she called over her shoulder to Havana. “You and Caleb have been recruiting all of us like mad, spouting on about pitching in to make the town viable. This is my contribution, a sure-fire hit. People always like to drink, don’t they?”
“What do you know about running a bar?” Havana asked.
“What do you know about running a town?” Ember countered with raised eyebrows in what Aria did think was a fair point. “I can learn something new, same as you. Thanks for the vote of confidence, by the way.”
Havana sighed. “It wasn’t a vote of no-confidence. Why do you always think I’m not on your side? I’m glad you’re here. This town needs locals far more than new blood, especially those of us who grew up here. We’re the ones who are going to sell the town to newcomers. Right, Aria? I’m counting on you to take the reins on some stuff.”
Just as Havana’s pointed comment sank into Aria’s stomach, coating it with greasy guilt, her sister shifted her gaze to connect with hers. Well, of course she’d think Aria was on board with digging in to make the town a success. Why wouldn’t she? Aria had never breathed a word of her dream to be the one who did the leaving this time.
Wouldn’t they all be in for a shock when she picked up and sailed out of town without a backward glance?
“That’s kind of rich coming from you,” Aria muttered before she could help herself.
Havana did a double take. No shock. Aria never spoke that way to her sister, but maybe it was time for a change around here.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Havana asked, one hand on her hip, and it was nearly comical how much she looked like Ember, who had just said the exact same thing to something Havana had lobbed at her.
“That you never think about how I’m the only one who never left,” she said and apparently it wasn’t only a man who could rile her temper. “You and Ember took off without even a backward
glance. You left me here. And now you’re expecting me to help figure out how to get people to stay?”
“Oh, honey.” Her sister’s mouth crinkled as she absorbed Aria’s ire. “Are you still upset about that?”
“What was your first clue?” she spit out and took a deep breath. Long the peacemaker, she couldn’t keep ruffling feathers. It just wasn’t her style. “I mean, I’m not still upset. It was a long time ago. It’s just…”
How was she supposed to explain that while she’d worked on forgiving Havana and Ember for abandoning her, it didn’t mean she was okay? That it didn’t still affect her. It did. It was one hundred percent the reason she couldn’t figure out whether she was coming or going with Isaiah.
That’s when a knock sounded at the door. Isaiah. Happy to cut off Havana’s laser-eyed focus, Aria’s gaze flew to the still-closed door as she weighed how badly she needed to see him against how quickly she could get her sisters to vacate the premises before she let him in.
Isaiah won, solely because there was little a solid dose of him couldn’t fix. She darted across the living area and let in her caller, who was here to see her.
The moment she flung open the door, Isaiah blew across the threshold and gathered her up in his arms to drop her into a blistering kiss. Every nerve in her body ignited, draining her of all sense of time and place. The man had a wicked way with his mouth that rendered her mute and stupid, but then what did speaking and thinking matter when he was kissing her? She had no interest in either, not when he held her like he’d found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
“That was worth the price of admission.”
Dully, she registered Ember’s sarcastic voice through the haze of Isaiah that had stolen her wits. She broke off the kiss with extreme reluctance and nuzzled his face with hers. “I think our audience needs to go before you do that again.”
“I scarcely noticed them,” he murmured, his eyes warm and inviting and most importantly, trained on her and not even bothering to check out the women in the kitchen. “How fast can they leave?”