by Kat Cantrell
“We, um… what?”
“Clear out, Elmer,” he instructed the dark-haired one next to him, who moved instantly, allowing Caleb to slide from the booth.
Before she could peep out question one, he hustled her away from the table with a gentle grip on her elbow. No one at the table stopped him. Or said a word. Including her aunt, which was typical. She’d always let Havana take care of herself along with everyone else.
Too shocked to protest, she let him lead her a good four steps before she remembered her voice did actually work. “What are you doing? I need to talk to Serenity, not you.”
“Oh, I disagree,” he countered, and somehow he’d gotten her feet to move again. “Best we do this outside.”
Outside? Where there were no witnesses? The man was former military, which explained why his arms were the size of a tree branch but not what he could possibly have to say to her privately.
Unless he’d mistaken pig wrangling as an expression of interest. Maybe that was considered courtship where he came from. Privacy meant loads of opportunity to flirt with a woman he’d decided to pursue. That stymied her so much she forgot to argue. Where was Damian when she needed him?
Back at the hotel, of course, because she’d stupidly told him she didn’t need him while she tried some different persuasion techniques with Serenity—she had to figure out why she wasn’t selling this deal, and having a discussion with the other half of Team Doritos wasn’t going to get her closer to that.
Fine. Caleb Hardy wanted to talk—so did she. So she could tell him that strong-arm tactics didn’t work on her. Once on the street, she jammed her hands down on her hips and whirled to face him. Holy cow, he was much closer than she’d realized and smelled like man and something clean, bright.
His eyes were brown. The dim light at Mavis J’s hadn’t revealed that, but out here in the sun, it was hard to miss the unusual almond color. Fascinated, she fell into them for a brief moment of insanity, recalling how he’d looked at her after helping her off the floor—as if she was special simply because she’d helped him chase a pig.
She liked helping, the rush of knowing she’s made someone’s life better. She liked it when people recognized her efforts even more. And he had. For a shining moment they’d had perfect cohesion. They could again; it was all right there in his eyes… She shuddered at the cocoon of awareness that had just formed between them and willed it away. Who cared what color the man’s eyes were?
She took a step back. But he followed her, not letting her get more than an inch or two away.
“Stop that,” she instructed throatily, mortified that he’d managed to affect her voice. “You’re crowding me.”
“Stop moving away,” he countered, his voice low. “I’m trying to have a conversation that won’t be broadcast to the entire town in under ten minutes.”
The fact that he’d clued in on that possibility while she was still busy trying to get her reactions to him under control annoyed her for some reason. “You don’t know how this town works, so stop pretending you do.”
Pot, meet kettle. She was the last person who could claim to understand how this town worked. She’d left of her own free will eight years ago, hot for a degree from the University of Texas that would mean she could chart her own destiny in the urban oasis of Austin. She’d met Cole, gotten engaged, had the world at her feet.
Or at least that was how she’d sold it to herself. In reality, she’d been running from the crushing responsibility that had fallen on her after her parents’ death. Not only had she been the one who looked out for her two younger sisters, sometimes she had to take care of Serenity too, who had gladly provided a home for three orphans but had no clue how to be a mother or manage adult responsibilities some days.
Then Ember had gotten pregnant. It was a testament to how out of control everything had gotten, a slap in the face. Too much. She’d fled.
And here Havana was, back in Superstition Springs with no husband, no job, and a mountain of guilt over leaving her sisters and Serenity to fend for themselves. Only to find out her aunt had set the entire town against her because she couldn’t listen long enough to see that she and Damian were offering hope. Not change for the sake of change. Or for the sake of pulling the rug out from under people. But Serenity wouldn’t even consider Havana’s plans because they involved knocking down a few old buildings that were barely standing as it was.
Sometimes progress required sacrifice. A lesson Havana had learned well.
Crossing his arms, Caleb leaned on the corner of Ruby’s, staring down his nose at her as if he had all the time in the world for her fit of bad temper. “Seems like you tracked me down quick enough.”
She actually flinched. “What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t come looking for you.”
“Right. It’s a coincidence that you showed up at the diner a mere fifteen minutes after I got here.”
“The diner is where everyone goes!” And breathe. She scowled at him. Where did he get such ideas? “I was looking for Serenity. Like I said.”
“If you say you had no idea my team and I were there, I’ll call you a liar.”
Her mouth fell open. Caleb Hardy might be the best-looking man she’d ever met, but he was also the most infuriating. Thank goodness she hadn’t actually been interested in him. “I knew five strangers had wandered into Ruby’s. You were solo during the Dorito chase. With the pig. Explain to me how I could have predicted that the man who put his arms around me earlier would be one of the strangers everyone is talking about.”
Which wasn’t even the point. He had her so turned around she couldn’t see backward or forward.
Something that could only be described as heat climbed through Caleb’s almondy irises, and she cursed herself for noticing how gorgeous they were.
“That’s the part I remember too,” he murmured.
“I don’t remember that part.”
How dare he twist her words around like that, as if he knew she couldn’t quite brush off the way he’d touched her. He’d been gentle, yet firm. Holding her so carefully, as if he knew exactly which parts of her would break unless he kept her whole. He’d been moving fast, and if anyone else had crashed into her like that, they’d have both hit the floor. But he’d somehow managed to turn it into an embrace that should not make her shudder to recall.
Okay, she remembered it pretty well. But he didn’t have to know that.
He didn’t have to know anything about her. Problem was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that in reality, he knew everything. How she yearned to be a part of something whole and lasting, but being dumped had done such a number on her self-esteem that she’d rather lie to everyone about Damian being her fiancé than deal with the small possibility that Serenity’s prediction might come true.
There was just something superaffecting about the way he watched her so pointedly. He was the type to miss nothing, no matter how much she might wish to keep secrets. Which meant he really shouldn’t be looking at her that way.
“I’m engaged,” she informed him, cursing the catch in her voice that would either tip him off that it was fake or alert him to the fact that she was still not quite sure how she’d ended up on this side of her wedding date without actually getting married. Or without anyone to take care of.
That’s why the shopping center was so important. She needed that project if she couldn’t have the marriage and husband she’d hoped for.
“I heard about that,” he said.
The admission didn’t change his expression an iota. Smug seemed to be his default now that they were having a real conversation instead of working together toward the mutual goal of reclaiming his snack.
“So I’m not looking for any man except for my fiancé,” she continued, strictly to remind herself of that fact. Remind him. He was the one who needed to be told what was what. “Keep that in mind.”
“Noted.”
“Is this really what you wanted to talk about?”
He let
the moment draw out until the tension threatened to flay her skin right from her bones. How did he do that trick where he got so still he didn’t move so much as a hair? If he’d been wearing a shirt the same color as Ruby’s clapboard exterior, he’d blend right in like a chameleon patiently waiting for an unsuspecting insect to crawl by. Then he’d pounce.
She shuddered again and wished she could blame it on a chill, but it was eighty-five in the shade, which was typical for Superstition Springs this late in April. What was not typical—Navy boys with an agenda she didn’t understand who seemed to have some kind of special ability to turn her brain into fettuccine.
“I wanted to be sure you and I were on the same page,” he finally said. “The shopping center? Not going to happen. I’m officially shutting it down.”
Heat flashed through her chest in an instant and not the good kind. “Hold your horses, mister. What business is my shopping center of yours?”
Her temper boiled up and over as he grinned. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever called me ‘mister.’ I feel like I should be sitting in a folding chair, cradling a twelve gauge as I protect my lawn.”
“This is not funny,” she practically spat. “You can’t waltz in here and throw down something like that. The shopping center is mine. I say what happens with it, and besides, this is not your town. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I care about Serenity,” he said flatly, which shouldn’t have been able to pierce the wall of her temper. But did well enough to give her pause because obviously he thought she didn’t care about her aunt. “That makes it my business. If you care about her, you’ll take a long look around at what’s good for the town instead of what’s good for you and your slick boyfriend.”
Without even giving her a chance to explain that her shopping center was good for the town, Caleb turned and sauntered back into the diner, hands stuck in his back pockets as if they’d been discussing the weather instead of a complete stranger dictating the next steps of Havana’s career.
“He’s my fiancé,” she called out to the shut door, furious with herself for letting that man get the upper hand in their discussion. That wasn’t happening again.
Five
It turned out that Serenity owned the old-fashioned hotel next door to Voodoo Grocery and insisted on giving all five of them rooms for as long as they needed. There was a brief skirmish when Caleb insisted on paying for the rooms, and she insisted right back that they were guests, as if that precluded any talk of money.
Finally she agreed to charge them half price, and Caleb took the deal, mostly because he’d more than repay the amount by taking up Serenity’s torch for the town but also so they could move on. Rowe’s bad side had to be hurting him, though he’d cut his tongue out before complaining. That’s why Caleb had to watch out for him. His brother did a crap job of taking care of himself, and Caleb had a lot to make up for.
It wouldn’t be awful for Caleb to shut his eyes for a bit either. Tired didn’t begin to describe the weariness he felt down in his bones, which he’d blame on driving the better part of two days if asked.
Serenity chatted about the history of the hotel as she guided them through the front door into a foyer that had seen grander days. Naturally, the place had seen some action as a house of ill-repute during the town’s oil boom days at the turn of the century and then morphed into a respectable hotel.
“You can feel the souls of the people who used to spend time here,” she explained as she touched the walls reverently. “They speak to me often.”
Caleb bounced up and down on the splintery hardwoods when Serenity wasn’t watching, testing its strength to be sure a foot placed the wrong way wouldn’t go through it. Seemed solid enough, but he made a note to go over the bones of this building with an expert at the first opportunity.
This hotel had all the hallmarks of a place that could easily be the crown jewel of Superstition Springs. Apparently no one could halt the resort from being built, but if the expensive cut of Havana’s boyfriend’s hair was any indication, mere mortals couldn’t afford to stay there. Plus the resort would be positioned outside city limits. The town needed a facility to house guests to the area, family and friends of residents for example, who wanted to be in the center of things and cared nothing about resort-type things like playing golf or going to the spa.
The guys all got settled in their individual rooms, one each in the five rooms on the second floor. Serenity showed him to his room last, and he didn’t think that was an accident. Odds were good she had a healthy bit of curiosity about what he’d said to Havana but hadn’t had a chance to ask after he returned to the diner and found the others in the middle of hashing out the sleeping arrangements.
The sparse room didn’t have much to recommend it other than a bed and a simple nightstand, but it did feature a door that led out to the balcony overlooking the street. And it beat sleeping in dirt, one ear cocked for the sound of hostile footsteps or a stray word in Arabic that meant you’d be woken in a very unpleasant manner by someone wearing a balaclava.
“Thanks, Serenity,” he told her and took one of her hands in his. The skin under his thumb felt paper thin, and for the first time, it occurred to him that Serenity was old enough to be his birth mother. “This is great.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He’d like to say he knew her well enough to guess what she might have on her mind, but they’d become acquainted via the written word, which she’d used often to express her thoughts. Now he could only go on instinct. Or ask her to write down what was bothering her, which sounded silly.
“Don’t worry,” he said and squeezed her fingers lightly. “I’ve got Havana handled.”
“You’re the one I’m worried about.” Her laugh at least sounded genuine, and he liked that he could amuse her.
“I can take care of myself. She’s got a lot of bark but not much bite.” Though he’d had an unavoidable fantasy or two about some other things he might do with her mouth now that he knew she had one on her.
Man, Havana was something else. He’d always assumed hot-tempered redheads were a stereotype, but she’d done her part to live up to it. All that fire and standing her ground had done something to his insides that wasn’t going away anytime soon. He did enjoy a spirited woman. Good thing she was taken. Some other guy could figure out how to put all that energy to use.
“She didn’t irritate you?”
Caleb cocked a brow at Serenity. “Not really. She called me mister. That was kind of funny, truth be told.”
Actually, he’d gotten to the point where he almost couldn’t wait to hear what came out of the woman’s mouth next, from her G-rated expletives to her insistence that she didn’t remember what it felt like to be in his arms immediately after admitting that she did. Strong women turned him on. He couldn’t help it. Took a lot of pluck to keep up with him, that was for sure.
Relief spread across the older woman’s face. “Okay, good. She can be a little off-putting, but she doesn’t mean any harm.”
“I can’t honestly say that she did anything that could be described as off-putting.” But she’d managed to pique his curiosity a good bit. Did Serenity not realize that Havana’s tendency to say what was on her mind was her best quality? There was some tension between the lady and her niece that he didn’t understand. “I told her the shopping center wasn’t happening and left it at that.”
Serenity’s eyes widened. “Just like that? You told her? What did she say?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I stopped listening. There’s nothing she could come up with to sway me, so I’m letting her think on it awhile.”
That’s how you had to treat the enemy. No quarter. Traditional rules of war didn’t apply anymore, not when an al-Qaeda suicide bomber wore the same clothes as a noncombatant and often hadn’t picked up his first shaving razor yet. You couldn’t afford to give anyone a pass. Even if you really liked her.
“That’s amazing.” Serenity seemed
pretty confounded by a simple thing like laying down the law, which meant Caleb had arrived on the scene none too soon. “She’s used to running things her own way. My fault. She came to me already set in her ways, used to taking care of everything, and I always let her. Her two sisters worshipped her, and they were their own little unit. What did I know about raising young girls? Nothing.”
“You did the best you could.”
Not that he’d been there or had any special insight, but wouldn’t anyone in that situation? He’d stepped up to take care of Rowe, who’d been four months on the back side of eighteen when their parents had died. Convincing him to join the Navy had been a no-brainer, because then they’d be together, making Caleb’s job much easier.
Fast forward a decade—it turned out that stepping up didn’t give a guy superhuman strength to pull Volkswagen-sized chunks of a building off his brother. It had taken all of them to dig Rowe out, but there was never a scenario when Caleb would have left a man behind, regardless of whether they shared blood.
Never a scenario that would make it okay that he’d led Rowe—and the rest of his team—into danger. But he’d do what he could to balance the scales as best he knew how. That promise to himself and everyone else kept him going even in the face of this wretched uncertainty that overtook him sometimes.
Serenity nodded her agreement. “I did do my best. Gave those girls everything I had, took them into this community and gave them a home. Makes this whole shopping center all the more upsetting. This is the town that welcomed three orphaned girls. Why can’t Havana honor that?”
The sheer disappointment lacing Serenity’s tone wrenched at something inside him. This wasn’t his town, and yet here he was trying to save it. You’d think someone with history might take a step back and reevaluate when met with resistance. Not Havana apparently.
So he’d make her see reason.
“Do you think there’s a chance we could do things the way you said?” Serenity asked hopefully. “Revitalize the downtown area and make it a place people would want to come?”