by Kat Cantrell
“That’s right, and don’t you forget that I have a plan for this town. I need you to make it work.”
“Me? I lost the election fair and square. I’ve got to spend the next little while coming up with an alternative to the shopping center project, or I have no job.”
“Sleep on that,” he advised her, not bothering to hide his smile since he suspected she couldn’t see it anyway. “Tomorrow we’ll see if that’s still true.”
He had plans for Havana that were designed to make her forget she’d ever heard the words shopping center. For now, he’d take his own advice and go to bed so he could dream about that kiss and how he’d take it up a few notches the next time he got her into his arms.
Because there would be a next time. No question. You couldn’t kiss a woman like Havana and not want a repeat every day for the next fifty years. And the beauty of it? He could. She wasn’t engaged. The world was wide open with possibilities, and Caleb liked all of them.
Thirteen
The next morning, Havana couldn’t decide whether to admit to Caleb that she’d dreamed about him as instructed or play it off like the kiss on the balcony last night hadn’t mattered one way or the other. After all, where could this thing between them really go when obviously she had no place here in Superstition Springs?
Maybe he’d forget all about her as he dug into his new job. She should encourage him to do exactly that if she was smart.
But when she entered the vacant lobby area of the hotel to find him waiting for her on the couch, he didn’t give her a chance to say anything. He shot to his feet and pulled her into his arms. Her mind emptied instantly of everything that wasn’t Caleb Hardy.
“Good morning,” he murmured into her hair, and she echoed it.
At least she thought she did. Her mouth ended up a little busy as he took it in another searing kiss that left the one on the balcony last night in the dust. Every nerve ending in her body sizzled.
So this was Caleb showing her how a real man acted when he liked a woman. It was far more delicious than she would have anticipated, and she’d done a lot of anticipating. She’d have sworn he’d been spouting that nonsense about showing a woman how much he wanted her to throw her off guard. Well, mission accomplished.
When he finally ended that humdinger of a kiss, she regained none of her balance. His gaze was smoky and laced with heat and meaning, and she hardly knew which way was up.
“Um, hi,” she croaked, and for some reason that made him laugh.
“Hi.” He feathered a thumb across her forehead to smooth back a strand of hair that hadn’t been bothering her at all. He bothered her. More than she’d have ever admitted.
And she had no barrier against it. Not anymore since she’d stupidly confessed the truth about the fake engagement. She shouldn’t have kissed him, and she certainly should have been the one to step back this morning. Except he got her brain all twisted up, which was the only excuse she had for allowing any of this.
She wrenched out of his arms and nearly whimpered at how fast his heat vanished from her body. “I wasn’t expecting to pick up where we left off last night. I—”
“Am not in charge today,” he reminded her with a quirked eyebrow. “I asked you to meet me this morning so we could spend the day together with no fiancé between us. That includes you not jumping on the control-freak train. Relax and let me.”
Let him what, exactly? That sounded like a recipe for heartache in her future. This was the part where she should tell him her time in Superstition Springs had an expiration date. She had to find a job since the shopping center was not going to be it. How she’d make it up to Serenity and Aria for sloughing them off like dead weight, she had no clue.
“I thought you were going to take me on a real date,” she said, and holy cow, where had that come from? And in such a throaty, needy voice too. Fix it. “Which I have not agreed to, by the way—”
“Havana.” He said her name with such authority that she instinctively shut up. “We’re going to do something you love today, I promise. Also, I need you to be on board. With everything. If you don’t want to spend the day with me, then why are you here?”
Curiosity. Which was a cop-out. She had to own her decisions. “You said you needed me to make your plan work. Tell me more about that.”
Not that she was considering it, exactly.
He nodded once. “I will. That’s what today is about, which I’ll get to in a minute. We need to address item number one on the agenda first. If you don’t want me to kiss you, say so now.”
Her mouth opened. She tried to speak. Nothing came out. Ugh. Apparently she couldn’t say that. Fine time for an honest streak to show up. She’d had zero problem lying to everyone about Damian being her fiancé, but when it really mattered, she couldn’t squeak out one little phrase that would save her sanity—I don’t want you to kiss me.
The problem was that she did want him to. A lot. So maybe she could let it ride and see how that went.
“I need you to say it, Havana,” he advised her. “Out loud. This is not optional.”
Fine. “Kissing you is not the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
“That’s not consent. Either you told me the truth about Scott and your fake engagement because you wanted to see where things might go between us or you didn’t. Which is it?”
“I explained why I did that,” she spat out in frustration. “Because I don’t know how to let go. Maybe I need you to take control so I don’t have to figure it out.”
He raised his brows. “Sorry. It doesn’t work like that. I’m not the kind of guy who can force a woman to accept my attentions. I thought you wanted me to kiss you, but then I got a distinct back-off vibe. Both times. You’re going to have to do better than that. So I’ll make you a deal. I won’t kiss you again. The next time, you’re going to have to initiate it.”
Oh, he’d like that wouldn’t he? Giving her all the control. That was fighting dirty, plain and simple. “Maybe I will.”
“Fine. I’ll be waiting.”
They eyed each other, sensual tension swirling between them, prickling the hair on her skin until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She reached out and curled her hand around a fistful of his shirt, yanking him forward until their mouths collided.
This kiss unfurled inside her, loosening everything that had grown tight and confused as he forced her to think about what she really wanted. He let her kiss him, eagerly lapping it all up but not taking over.
It was glorious.
Finally she pushed back and shot him a smug smile. “Satisfied?”
“Not even close,” he growled, his meaning rocketing through her instantly—he wanted so much more from her, things she didn’t fully understand but desperately wanted to. “But we can be done for now. To be clear, I will kiss you again.”
“I’m on board, as instructed,” she ground out. What else could she do to please his highness? Honestly the man infuriated her so much more than he turned her on. Sometimes. “Where are you taking me?”
“On a journey called option B,” he said cryptically and hustled her outside to the street.
Fine. She could play along for a little while.
Sunlight nearly blinded her, and she fished around in her bag for her sunglasses, slipping them on over her face. Blinking, she tried to orient as fast as she could so she didn’t get knocked for another loop.
“What do you see?” he asked her and nodded at the dilapidated row of mostly abandoned buildings across from Serenity’s hotel. That side included Ruby’s diner down at the end and Lennie’s antique shop two storefronts closer. Everything else had long fallen out of use.
“A bunch of stuff in the way of my shopping center,” she said blithely.
“Yes. That’s it exactly. You’re having a hard time getting out from under option A. Imagine for a second that I’m the mayor of this town.” He laughed at the exasperation that she let show on her face. “Don’t be like that. Listen. I’m the mayor. I have h
ired the best urban planner in Texas to help me get this town in shape. I want to preserve this history, the buildings. Embrace the quirks of the residents. How would you advise me?”
She was the best urban planner in this scenario? Something inside her lurched at the phrase and then greedily latched onto it, holding it close and examining it from all angles as if this little bit of gold might vanish before her eyes.
Even Damian didn’t say things like that to her. She was a means to an end, which she’d known from the beginning of their partnership. When he’d approached her about coming on board with his resort plans, he’d only done so because he remembered she was from this area. That had been the deal. She had to earn her way into the project by greasing the wheels with the residents, which had failed miserably.
Caleb wasn’t asking her to earn anything. He was just painting more word pictures. For some reason that appealed to her enormously after the election loss and having her bones rattled by the new mayor’s mouth.
As requested, she tested out his thought process, not fully committing to it but letting the idea unfold in her head, generating a new landscape with lines and colors that she easily superimposed over the existing one.
“I see a wide sidewalk on both sides, edged by long wooden flowerpots. Streetlights with wide bases that have plenty of room for artistic graffiti. New façades, some with stonework, some with reclaimed barn wood washed white. Cantilevered signposts with hanging wooden signs, hand-lettered. New doors with wrought iron hardware. Parking in a lot behind Ruby’s and a cut through created by reducing the size of the building between Lennie’s and the one next to it. We can easily concrete over the two cut sides and offer the space as a communal mural.”
When she opened her eyes, Caleb was standing there with his arms crossed, watching her with a smile she couldn’t interpret. “You’re hired.”
She scowled. “Hired to do what? Create more fantasies for your crazy talk?”
“Trust me, I can create fantasies all on my own,” he murmured, and his gaze never left her face, but that didn’t stop the hot, hard flush that traveled all the way down her body as she internalized his suggestive comment. “What I need is that kind of vision. It’s so sharp and clear. I only had a nebulous idea that we could do some refurbishment, but you’re a true artist. I mean, I figured you had to have some color in you since you’re a native Springian, but that far surpassed my expectations.”
“Springian?” she repeated, mostly to cover the pleased little hum that had started up in her throat.
A true artist. What did that even mean? That he thought she had talent? Whatever he meant, it didn’t seem to matter to her heart, which was in the process of squishing around in her chest over what was clearly a compliment in Caleb Hardy’s world.
He shrugged. “We need catchy marketing. I like it.”
She liked it too. She liked everything he was saying, but how was she supposed to admit that? None of this was part of the grand plan. The town was supposed to be leveled, and in its place, she’d build a pretty shopping center that would have her signature all over it.
And then she never had to think about how she wasn’t really a Springian, not the way he meant it.
That was the biggest wet blanket on his grandiose experiment. She wasn’t really welcome here. The town had given her that message loud and clear when they voted for an outsider to be their mayor over a local. Local-ish. She’d moved away and then stormed back into town, peddling a bricks-and-mortar makeover that the folks had handily rejected.
She was having a hard time not taking it as a rejection of her. Since the shopping center wasn’t happening, her next trick was to leave. Again. She could take a hint.
“Whatever ‘color’ you think you see in me is the product of education,” she told him flatly. “Nothing more. I’ve taken design theory classes and studied hundreds of towns.”
“Which is why I’m offering you a job,” he said, and she didn’t even have to question his sincerity—it was all over his expression. “I need a professional, not a quirky artist dreamer type. We’ll let them have their day when we open up the mural to the public and contract out the hand-lettered signs. Until then, it’s purely business, and I can’t have anything less than a control freak with amazing organizational skills and the soul of a dictator in charge of this project.”
A grin tugged at her mouth before she could stop it. How did he do that? No one had ever been able to charm her in the midst of infuriating her. It was sorcery, plain and simple. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’m counting on it. Say yes. Forget about working with Scott and work with me instead. Only I won’t ever agree to be your fake fiancé, so take that under advisement.”
The ever-present heavy awareness dialed up about ten notches as he communicated exactly how real their association would be without saying a word.
She swallowed, which did nothing to cool her heated throat. “Noted.”
Exactly as she’d suspected. Caleb Hardy didn’t do fake. He was one hundred percent authentic and did nothing by halves. If she agreed to this, she’d be all in, in more ways than one. She’d have to come clean to everyone about the lie she’d perpetuated about her engagement to Damian.
And she’d have to work with Caleb. A lot. Day in and day out.
“What exactly are you proposing?” she asked with a narrowed gaze. “I’m not going to sleep with you just because we’re working together.”
“Well, now that’s insulting,” he said with a mock frown. “I don’t usually have to resort to luring a woman into my clutches with job offers. Mostly they come along willingly.”
“You know what I’m saying,” she shot back. “Our association needs to stay professional if we’re going to work together.”
“Like it stayed professional with Scott?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Seems to me like you traded on that working relationship all kinds of ways.”
“That’s not the point.” It was the point, and she didn’t like that he was forcing her to stay on her toes. “It didn’t matter with Damian because—”
She bit off the rest: I could never fall for him.
And wasn’t that the ugly truth. She could work with Damian and pretend they were engaged all day long because he didn’t stir her up the way Caleb did. The man was confident in his own skin, gorgeous, and oh, so dangerous. She had no clue how to manage a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control.
Curious, he cocked his head as if trying to fill in that blank, and it would not surprise her if he’d guessed the direction of her thoughts. Or had developed some kind of ESP that allowed him to read her like a book strictly by stepping foot in Superstition Springs, the mecca of all things mystical. Either way, none of this was cool.
“I know,” he said softly. “You’re still hurting over the loser ex, and you need someone to treat you like a queen so you lose that panicked look in your eye as soon as a man pays attention to you.”
No , that was the opposite of what she needed, never mind that it sounded so lovely she almost burst into tears. “I need a man who understands that I’m not looking for another broken heart and backs off.”
He held up his hands in the classic I surrender gesture. “Then we’ll keep it casual. No diamond rings four seconds after the next time I kiss you. Got it.”
Okay, now he was being silly. Because she was too, and it figured he’d find a way to put it all in perspective. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and with it almost all the knots in her stomach dissolved. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an idiot again. We can date and kiss and whatever as long as everyone understands I’m not looking for anything more.”
That would keep it all nice and safe. She could let Caleb focus his time and energy on showing her how a real man did things while she invested none of her heart and soul into a man who would eventually tear up both into little pieces. She could hang out for a while longer, see how his plan played out. Keep one foot pointed at the exit.
“What are you looking for then?” he asked so nonchalantly that she almost missed how critical of a question it was. “With the shopping center? Why does it have to be that or the town?”
Trust him to cut right to the bone, slicing through all the meat and exposing her vulnerabilities. Caleb never once had to question his place in the world because he settled into his niche as if he’d always been there. He knew exactly how he fit, and the way he owned that was a large part of his appeal, if she was being honest. And she was so sick of trying to brute force her way into that kind of acceptance that she told him the truth.
“It was supposed to be me showing my strengths once and for all. My mom was cut from the same cloth as her sister. How do you think I got a name like Havana?” She smiled wryly. “Serenity picked up where my mom left off, depending on me to help care for my sisters because she was mostly clueless about how to handle three kids dropped on her doorstep. I didn’t mind. I loved helping. But my sisters didn’t see me as nurturing, just bossy and domineering.”
Ember mostly had said that, more than once. Sometimes Havana thought she’d gotten pregnant on purpose strictly to spite her. Never once had the girl taken a step back to see that Havana had only wanted the best for her. Aria at least had stayed out of trouble, but that didn’t make up for having failed with Ember.
She shrugged and rounded out the list of her sins. “Turns out I come across that way when trying to sell a shopping center too.”
“But if you could get the townspeople to buy into it, you’d finally be seen for your contributions?” Caleb guessed quietly. “Everyone would appreciate you in a way they never had?”
Was she that obvious, or did Caleb pay that much attention to her? Better question—which one did she want it to be? “You see how that worked out. Once again, I didn’t read the room well enough, so I’m still not a Springian.”
That pretty much put the nail in it. She had no business seeing how Caleb’s plans played out. Since everything had fallen apart, it was a great time to leave before she got her hopes up again.