Beyond Time: A Knights Through Time Travel Romance

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Mellie was close to getting over Greg. Once she was completely over him and sure Connor was the one, she’d take things further.

  With Connor gone for the day, she spent the entire morning working on her Everyday Moments series, as she’d come to call her women. A final dot of blue on the woman’s dress and the piece was finished. In this house, the woman sat outside in a tiny garden behind the house, reading. It was an homage to her favorite painting at the museum, though she’d updated the woman. In her piece, the woman was barefoot, as were all her women. This one had painted toenails—a robin’s-egg blue—and was wearing sunglasses and a red gingham sundress, her hair in a ponytail as she sprawled in a chair, legs over the arm.

  This piece wasn’t too bad. The illusion of movement could have been better, but she was improving. And this house might be her favorite yet.

  But not good enough for the gallery, whispered her inner critic.

  “Shut up,” Mellie retorted as she cleaned the brushes and workspace. The house sat on the table to dry as she turned off the lights and carefully locked the door.

  That afternoon, knowing Connor wouldn’t be back until dark, Mellie wandered around the harbor, meandering down the cobblestone streets, popping into her favorite shops. A lunch consisting of a lobster roll from a food truck and an icy-cold tea kept her full as she enjoyed the sun, feeling the heat soak into her bones.

  There was a small park with fountains and benches she adored, a place she and Greg used to spend time people-watching. Her favorite gelato cart was doing a brisk business today.

  “Cara, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Chocolate today?”

  “I’ve missed you too, Mario. You know, I think I’ll try something different. Change is good, right?”

  He grinned. “Yes, bella. How about lemon?”

  “Lemon sounds perfect.”

  He gave her extra and waved her away when she tried to pay. “No, your beautiful smile is payment enough.”

  Mario had been married for thirty years, with five kids, and yet he flirted shamelessly with every female customer, no matter how young or old. Mellie adored him.

  “Thank you.” She took a taste and groaned in pleasure. It was perfect, maybe a new favorite. She’d have to bring Connor here. He’d love trying all the different flavors.

  A prime bench opened up, and she grabbed it, stretching out her legs, glad she’d worn her favorite red shorts and t-shirt proclaiming, I read past my bedtime. The sun made her sleepy as she finished the gelato and people-watched.

  The laugh woke her as if from a nightmare.

  “Melissa? Is that you? Look, honey, it’s old Melissa. Wow, you’ve been enjoying the good life. I wish I could eat like you and not care what I looked like. Good for you.”

  She opened her eyes to see the perfect couple, Melinda and Greg. They were holding hands and wore matching outfits of khaki shorts and yellow shirts.

  “Hi, Mellie.” Greg gave her an awkward hug.

  She’d opened her mouth to say hello when the sparkle on Melinda’s left hand made her mouth drop open.

  Melinda smiled and waved the ring around. “Isn’t it beautiful? Greg proposed at the most adorable bed and breakfast down on the Eastern Shore.”

  “Congratulations.” Mellie knew exactly where it was—it was a place she’d picked out, where she and Greg were going to spend Memorial weekend. As Melinda droned on and on, Mellie had the sinking feeling the witch had taken every idea Mellie had on her Pinterest board and was using them to plan her wedding. Figured. So she not only stole men, but ideas as well. Mellie decided she should have made the board secret.

  Melinda took a phone call, and Greg stepped closer to Mellie, touching her arm. “It was really nice to see you.”

  “I have to go.” Mellie jumped back, heart pounding.

  She was such a coward. Over and over she and Amy had planned what Mellie would say if she ever ran into the two of them, and when the time came, she couldn’t get the words out. Instead she was focused on holding back tears. On the walk home, she let them fall, her sunglasses hiding the wetness.

  When Connor came home, Mellie pretended to be asleep. Normally she woke up and he climbed in bed, they ate ice cream, and he told her all about his class. But not tonight. She kept still, focused on keeping her breathing even as he slid under the sheets and threw an arm around her. Why did he have to make her feel so much? Why couldn’t he be like her ex? So much emotion coursing through her all the time was exhausting.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Music spilled down the hallway, making Mellie clench her jaw, the throbbing at her temple keeping time with the racket. She was surprised there wasn’t a nasty note on her door from an irate neighbor. What on earth was Connor listening to? Some kind of heavy metal?

  When she pushed the door open, he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face.

  “Ye can feel it. Here, on the inside.” He thumped his chest.

  “Yes, I think the entire building can feel it.”

  It was Friday night. For dinner they had hamburgers, potato salad, and baked beans. He helped her make the potato salad and her grandmother’s famous baked beans. Connor said cooking was women’s work, but he enjoyed making food with her. He insisted on cutting the potatoes so she wouldn’t cut her finger. But the grilling? Mellie had a small blue grill on the terrace, and Connor was a natural. What was it with men and grills?

  The burgers were done perfectly, and she laughed as he piled his bun high with lettuce, tomato, onion, and so many bread and butter pickles that she was surprised he could fit the thing in his mouth. Mellie had introduced him to pepper jack cheese and steak sauce on his burger. She was envious he could eat so much and never gain an ounce. If anything, since he’d been teaching his weapons classes, he looked even more defined. His forearms were tan, except for the fine lines from old scars and the newer ones he had from the museum.

  She’d finally decided he wasn’t a thief, that his story was the truth. Mellie didn’t think she could handle him lying to her after what had happened with Greg. It would be a deal-breaker.

  The new dishwasher was quiet, and Connor patted it as he loaded the dishes.

  “Eat the dishes, beast.” He closed the door and started the machine, winking at her. “Aye, I know ’tis a machine and not a beast.”

  “It would be far more interesting if the dishwasher was a beast that cleaned our dishes.” Mellie refilled their wine glasses and they settled on the sofa. For once, he handed her the remote.

  “Really?”

  He grinned.

  “I get it. All these channels and there’s nothing on you want to watch, so I get the remote for a change. That it?”

  “Mayhap I wish to be gallant.”

  Mellie laughed. “Works for me, but no complaining when I pick a girly show.”

  He held his hands up. “The night is yours, my lady.”

  As she flipped through the channels, she stopped, catching sight of the very wedding dress she had picked for herself. A woman complained as she modeled it for her friends and mom, and the comments weren’t very flattering. The thought of Mellie’s brothers’ wives judging her dress choice made her grimace. They’d tell her about the latest cleanse or fad diet guaranteed to drop those extra pounds before the big day. After all, her sister-in-law would say, pictures last forever.

  Connor roared with laughter. “She’s a bridezilla.”

  “How do you know what a bridezilla is?” Mellie blinked at him, for a moment picturing him in a tux. He’d look like a model.

  “’Tis a lass about to be married who is awful to all around her. Sounds like most of the lasses I’ve known, even before they’re married. I heard about this kind of woman from the wife of a friend.”

  She nodded, but the feeling was back that he was hiding something from her. Please don’t let it be another woman.

  “Bloody English,” he muttered.

  The rest of the night she didn’t say much, and when he asked her what was wrong, she li
ed and said she thought she was coming down with something.

  The next morning, Mellie woke to a burned bagel with grape jam and a glass of iced tea.

  “You look verra beautiful today,” he said, making her blush.

  Mellie smoothed her hands over the long, off-the-shoulder dress. It was striped and as comfortable as pajamas. She’d have to go back and buy the same dress in the other two patterns. It would be something she’d wear all summer. Even her hair cooperated today, so she’d left it loose, the curls in perfect loose corkscrews, a once-a-year occurrence.

  “Thank you.”

  Connor had made her breakfast after she’d been a brat last night. “I had a bit of trouble with the toaster.”

  She vowed to be nicer. It wasn’t his fault she kept comparing him to Greg, kept thinking it should have been her marrying Greg, not Melinda. She cared for Connor, but the feelings he brought out in her scared her at times, the emotions so dizzying she wanted to hide in her room and make clay houses until it passed.

  “It’s nice. No one’s ever made me breakfast.”

  “Do we see the flying contraptions today?”

  “We do. I think you’ll like them.”

  Every year the hot air balloon festival drew people from all over. It marked the end of summer, taking place the weekend before Labor Day. The big family reunion was next week, and she was nervous about passing Connor off as her boyfriend. He acted like he was, but he tended to say what was on his mind—and that made her nervous.

  They arrived early to beat the traffic and the crowds, Mellie had worn canvas sneakers with her dress, knowing they’d be doing a lot of walking. She’d given in and let Connor wear his sword. The man always had the daggers, and now he passed out business cards, his phone always ringing with new clients. He’d paid for a new phone and she added him to her plan. It was slow going to get him new identification. She’d wanted to talk to Peter, the doctor who used to date Amy and had treated Connor back in early May, but something held her back. Maybe because she didn’t want to admit she was seeing him after the way Peter had reacted.

  As they walked amongst the colorful balloons, Connor acted like he’d never seen a hot air balloon before. Mr. Social Butterfly was already chatting up a man working on a bright blue-and-white balloon. She heard him ask how the balloon stayed in the air and shook her head. It was going to be a long day.

  Instead of interrupting him, she sent Connor a text telling him she was going to check out the crafts. He took the phone from his shorts pockets, checked the phone, and looked to her, smiling. Connor sent back an OK with an emoji of a balloon and wine. Mellie had to admit, he looked almost as good in shorts as he did in jeans and a t-shirt.

  Three women walked by, swinging their hips and tossing their hair as they passed Connor. To his credit, he was deep in conversation with the guy who owned the balloon, but Mellie knew without a doubt that she didn’t want a guy that good-looking.

  She’d always be worrying he’d leave her for someone more. Prettier. Thinner. And more ambitious. But it was too nice a day to worry over, so she adjusted the strap of her cross-body bag and hit the craft vendors, determined to enjoy the day.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Four months had passed since she’d first met Connor. In that time, Mellie thought she’d finally gotten over Greg and was almost to the point of getting Connor to kiss her, though she wasn’t going to beg. Nope. He’d kiss her. At least, she hoped he would.

  The big family reunion. It was Labor Day. The party had to be moved from the traditional Fourth of July party when the venue burned down. Looking around, Mellie thought the marina was a better choice. They’d decided to hold it at Silvercreek Marina, and the day had cooperated with clear blue skies, a breeze, and the temperature in the low seventies—a perfect day.

  And the big reveal. She’d managed to keep Connor away from her family until today. And Mellie thought after today, instead of breaking up and going their separate ways, maybe Connor could move from fake boyfriend to real boyfriend.

  He’d given her no reason to think he’d leave her for someone else like her ex. And while it bothered her that he was so fit and good-looking, he let her know how pretty he thought she was, and that he didn’t care her butt was big.

  So far, Mellie and Connor had navigated the party without incident. Her extended family beamed at him, and Connor charmed everyone they met, even her cranky second cousin, who said all men were scum. He had Esmeralda blushing like a schoolgirl by the time they moved on.

  “Wow, nicely done.”

  Connor grinned. “She is a fine woman.”

  “You really do like all women, don’t you?”

  He was wearing a pair of dark jeans with a blue-and-white checked shirt, the sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair was loose, and every waitress practically swooned as they passed him.

  “Aye. Women can give birth. They are to be cherished. There is something beautiful in all women.”

  “Even Esmeralda?”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “She has ears that remind me of shells on the beach back home.”

  The guy noticed women’s ears? Mellie wondered every day what he saw in her and why he’d agreed to be her fake boyfriend. Especially when she found out he could have lived with Fitz and Tracy or the guide from the fort, but, for some unfathomable reason, he wanted to stay with her.

  The smell of the water made her breathe deeply. They were outside leaning against the railing, watching the ships. From where they stood, no one could tell they were out here. A big column hid them from view.

  Connor tucked a curl behind her ear. “I dinna wish to be a pretend boyfriend anymore.”

  “You don’t?” Was he tired of her? Met someone else?

  He stood inches from her, the scent of him, ocean, cotton, and a hint of spice filling her nose.

  “Nay, nor do I wish ye to beg me to kiss you.”

  Disappointment flooded her veins, and her shoulders slumped. This was it: he was dumping her at the family reunion.

  “No kissing?”

  With a masculine chuckle, Connor bent her back, one hand splayed across her back, the other tracing her lips.

  “I wish to kiss you every day from now until we turn to dust. To cherish you and protect you from harm. From the day in the hospital when I tasted your lips, I have thought of kissing you every day. ’Tis what I clung to through the darkest days at Mint Hill. Give yourself to me, lass.”

  “Yes.” She breathed the word, barely getting it out before he captured her mouth. The sound of the gulls circling lazily faded, as did the clink of dishes from inside. There was nothing but the two of them; the rest of the world fell away. He wrapped her hair around his hand and deepened the kiss, tracing her lips. Their tongues met and she sighed into him, boneless and liquid.

  Mellie had never been kissed like this before. They were made for each other, fit perfectly together. He held her, supporting her weight with one arm as if she was one of those stick-thin women. Then Connor pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, in a dance as old as time.

  When she came to, dazed, it was as if she’d come out of a long sleep. Her lips pulsed in time to her heart. They were swollen, and she touched a finger to them. And Connor looked as out of it as she did. That alone opened her heart to him.

  “Mellie, I needs tell you—”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” The waitress pushed her shoulders back, her eyes on Connor, and Mellie was happy when he didn’t take his eyes from her.

  “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

  Mellie touched a spot of stubble he’d missed this morning. “How about Bloody Marys?” Seeing his look, she kissed his cheek. “You’ll like them.”

  “Two of the Bloody Mary,” he told the waitress, who turned away with a huff.

  “Coming right up.”

  They were enjoying their drinks when Mellie took his hand.

  “What did you want to tell me?”

  “Th
ere is something verra important I must tell ye, love.”

  And then her family descended on them before Connor could say anything else. He’d called her “love.” Full of happiness, she decided nothing her family said would ruin her day with Connor.

  “Sorry we’re late, honey. Your father couldn’t find his glasses.” Her mother stopped, a hand to her chest. “Oh my. You must be Connor.”

  He took her mom’s hand. “’Tis a pleasure to meet Mellie’s sister.”

  Rolling her eyes as her mom tittered and blushed, Mellie turned to her sisters-in-law, only to see similar expressions of adoration on their faces.

  “We’ve heard so much about you,” her mom said. “I’m Angie, and this is my husband, Bob.”

  Her dad looked Connor up and down as Mellie sipped her drink, her stomach doing barrel rolls.

  Connor inclined his head and offered his hand. “Mr. Evers.”

  “Please, call me Bob,” her dad said. When he dropped Connor’s hand, he clapped him on the shoulder. “I hear you can wield a sword. But tell me, man, can you swing a club?”

  “A club?” Connor echoed.

  Cal stepped in, gripping Connor’s hand. “A golf club. We all play.”

  “I haven’t played.”

  He let go of Cal’s hand, and Mellie grinned seeing her brother rub his hand. Connor had quite the handshake. She caught the waiter’s eye and asked for another drink to calm her nerves.

  “We’ll teach you. I’m Heath, the younger, more handsome brother.”

  Connor stood feet apart, and as Mellie watched, Heath mimicked his stance. Her brothers introduced their wives and kids, and, of course, Connor charmed them all. What had she been so worried about?

  As the day progressed, Mellie relaxed. Connor was a hit. Her family liked him, and finally her stomach settled down. They’d had a buffet set up for brunch, and, content to let Connor talk, she caught his eye a time or two. Or he’d text her something funny. These kinds of parties always drained her energy. After this, Mellie would need a day or two to recover. To be alone with her art.