by Kat Cantrell
“Which one?”
“Cassidy, of course.” He said her name as if spitting out poison. “Why would I have a problem with Aria?”
“I would hope that you wouldn’t,” Isaiah muttered. “Given that she’s been interested in you for so long.”
“Yeah, she told me. She’s a nice lady. Too bad it’s not going to work out for us.” Marchande shrugged, oblivious to the way Isaiah’s pulse had just shot back into the stratosphere. “But that leaves the field open for you, right? I’d get on that if I were you. She’s not going wait around forever for you to pull your head out of your rear end.”
Isaiah tried to talk and swallow at the same time and choked on it. The subsequent coughing fit brought tears to his eyes. But that didn’t stop his brain from picking up the information that Marchande had oh so casually dropped and running with it.
Aria and Marchande aren’t an item. How? Why? What was with all the hand kissing in the stairwell then?
“You okay?” Marchande whacked him on the back a couple of times and then went back to painting nonchalantly. “You thought your feelings for her were a big secret or something?”
“Not a secret,” Isaiah wheezed, desperately trying to wrap his thoughts around something that resembled cohesive. “Because it’s not a thing.”
“Please. Anyone can see that you have it bad for her. I told her that too.”
The paint brush fell from Isaiah’s suddenly nerveless fingers. “You did what?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t make it sound like you were a blubbering idiot or anything.”
Tristan stroked his brush over the side of the barn with maddening care, falling silent as he worked on fixing the mess Isaiah had made with the paint. As metaphors went, that one was a doozy.
“What did you say?” he demanded. “What did she say?”
“What, are we in third grade? Faut que tu te bouges. Point barre.”
“Stop being a jerk,” Isaiah ground out. “This is not the time or place for your cryptic French crap.”
Marchande just laughed. “Step it up, mon ami. Talk to her. If it’s meant to be, it’ll all fall into place.”
Easy for him to say. He’d never failed with a woman in his life. Isaiah, on the other hand, had few relationships in his rearview mirror, and those had all been surface level type things that he’d invested zero emotional energy into since his sole focus over the last decade had been keeping his team both alive and motivated to waltz into dangerous situations.
But it didn’t matter what his experience with women was, because there was nothing with Aria to fall into place. Could not be. The talk Isaiah needed to have with her looked a lot more like damage control than anything. She could not continue to have the impression that there was the remotest possibility that something of a romantic nature could work between them.
No matter how badly he wanted to tell her the exact opposite.
But the stark truth that Tristan had just unwittingly uncovered couldn’t be denied. There was nothing left to hide behind—Isaiah had been falling for Aria this whole time.
So far, it had been easy to ignore since he’d been under the mistaken assumption that it couldn’t go anywhere. She’d been destined for someone else, after all. Yet he had Tristan to thank for surfacing the real reason he couldn’t lay it on the line and admit to his growing feelings—she deserved so much more than a broken SEAL who had no place in this little town she called home.
“I will talk to her,” Isaiah mumbled, mostly to put an end to this conversation that never should have happened.
Marchande needed to learn how to keep his big fat mouth shut, especially when it came to other people’s love lives. But whatever. If nothing else, all of Isaiah’s problems could be put to rest in one shot. All he had to do was leave, which he’d known was coming the moment Hardy had dropped the idea of Isaiah organizing a shindig for the town. This new revelation pushed the timeframe up to immediately, which meant Hardy needed to hear how Isaiah was fresh out of glue. And then he owed it to Aria to tell her personally that he’d be taking off.
His imminent departure spurred him to get as much done on the barn-turned-schoolhouse as possible. Plus it gave him the added benefit of avoiding that scene with Aria for as long as possible. By the end of the day, the entire exterior of the barn had been painted and he and Marchande knocked out the rest of the exterior weatherproofing. Funny how he’d managed to motivate himself well enough to complete a task that had been lingering for some time.
Aria and Cassidy had made good progress too, and the ladies called it quits nearly at the same time as Isaiah and Marchande finished up. The four of them met up in the clearing near the new schoolhouse door but apparently Cassidy and Tristan hadn’t figured out how to play nice with each other. Both of them quickly took their leave, Cassidy heading toward her house and Tristan heading toward town, presumably to go to Ruby’s or the hotel.
In the awkward silence, Isaiah and Aria stared at each other. The sun had crept toward the horizon, but it wasn’t late enough for sunset, so her hair remained its typical muted red.
“I need to tell you something,” he said before he lost his nerve. He’d have rather hashed this out with Hardy first but Aria was here now. Better to rip off the Band-Aid as soon as possible. “You asked me a while back when I might move on to my next adventure and I think it’s time.”
“What, now?” she gasped. “We’re still working on the barn.”
“No. We’re pretty much finished,” he countered casually. “I think Tristan can handle the rest. I’ve been pretty itchy for a while. It was only a matter of time, right?”
Her bemused expression tore through him unexpectedly, which felt oddly appropriate. Of course this should hurt—and probably a lot more. He’d never have enough pain piled on top of his chest to atone for his crimes.
“I was always kind of braced for it. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon,” she said.
“What can I say? It’s time and there’s not really any reason to stay.”
The lie nearly lodged in his throat but he managed to spit it out without tripping over it. The real test lay in whether he’d sold it—she’d picked up on his angst earlier, so there was no guarantee she wouldn’t sense something amiss now.
But she seemed to absorb his statements readily, nodding fast and blinking a lot. “Okay. I’ll miss our conversations. But I understand.”
“Okay, good.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, though why he was so reluctant to walk away remained a mystery. “I’ll miss you too.”
Not their conversations. But her. She didn’t seem to notice the slip, just backed away quickly. “I have to get to the diner. Please don’t leave without saying goodbye. Promise me.”
“I won’t.” Though that might be a lie too. He didn’t think he could do this again.
How was he supposed to leave when he’d just realized he’d found the place where he could breathe? It was wherever Aria Nixon was. And he had to go.
Fourteen
Aria doubled back around as soon as she was out of sight of the barn, her heart pounding in her chest as she ran full tilt toward Cassidy’s house. Isaiah was leaving. She had to let Cassidy know this was her last chance with the man. If she wanted to make a move, she had to do it soon.
Then Aria’s conscience would be clear. She didn’t have to feel guilty about how every time she got near Isaiah after Tristan’s revelations, she’d searched his face for some indication that he was looking at her a certain way. And saw nothing more than the way he always looked at her, with his blend of complete focus, a slight smile as if he found everything she said fascinating and his dual-chromatic eyes melting with unfathomable things she wished she could explore.
In short, she was in a lot of trouble.
Cassidy answered the door as if she’d been standing there waiting for her. But then her friend’s face registered mild surprise and she glanced over Aria’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought maybe Tristan had followed me in order to get the last word in. That man is the worst combination of player, flirt and egomaniac. It’s like he loves the sound of his voice so much that he thinks the rest of us do as well.”
“Um… I think he’s mostly nice,” she ventured, a little thrown off by the venom in Cassidy’s voice. “And that’s not what I came to talk about. You have to hurry up with Isaiah. He’s leaving town. Probably permanently.”
A puzzled frown drifted over Cassidy’s expression. “Isaiah. What am I hurrying up with him for?”
“You know.” Exasperated with the cluelessness of basically everyone on the planet, she rolled her hand in a get on with it motion. “Because you like him. You haven’t made a move yet and now he’s leaving. Maybe if you tell him how you feel, he’ll reconsider leaving and stay. That would so romantic, if he—”
Cassidy cut her off with a bemused laugh. “Aria, I’m not interested in Isaiah. I think he’s cute and all, but I gave up on him a long time ago. Right about the same moment when I figured out that you two were perfect for each other.”
“You, um…figured out—you…I mean, what?” Her eyelids fluttered closed as about forty-seven different emotional reactions swamped her at once, none of which she could sort fast enough to pick the strongest.
“I thought you guys were spending time together. Alone.” Cassidy smiled gently. “Getting to know each other. You forget how small this town is, clearly, if you thought that was a secret. Besides, I’m not blind. I see your face when he talks to you.”
“What does it do?” she whispered, fairly certain she was going to hear that she looked at him like he hung the moon, or some variation thereof, because of course she did.
All of this felt strangely inevitable. She’d started falling for him and her stupid face had broadcast that. Probably that’s why the almost kiss had happened, because she’d given away what was going on inside without realizing it. He’d responded in the way that made sense to him—and thank goodness she’d fled.
Imagine if she’d given in. They would have shared an amazing kiss, maybe more. Probably more. She’d certainly been primed for it. And then she’d have floated away in a cloud of bliss, only to wake up the next morning to learn that once again, she hadn’t been enough to keep someone she cared about in town.
Because he’d still be leaving. Of that she had no doubt.
“You look like a woman who has found everything she’s looking for. Which begs the question. Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Cassidy asked, her concern bleeding through the palm she reached out and placed on Aria’s forearm. “Am I wrong about all of this?”
“No.” She sniffled as she realized Cassidy had called it in one. She was about to cry. “He’s on his way out of town. What am I supposed to do about that?”
“Go with him,” her friend said as if it was obvious.
And maybe it was. The possibility flooded her instantly, filling all of the empty places that had hollowed out when she accepted that she’d been unsuccessful at shutting down what was happening between her and Isaiah.
“I couldn’t do that,” she breathed but it was a token protest.
She could absolutely do that. Why couldn’t she? It was a lot better of a plan than being left behind and this time, she wasn’t a teenager. And she had every reason to be bold—Isaiah had even said he liked that about her.
“Sure you can. What’s holding you here?” Cassidy waved at the dusty road behind Aria that stretched toward town, but otherwise had nothing much to recommend it. “You still live with Serenity, just like I live with my parents because what else can you do here? This is your chance to find something more. Take it.”
“He might not even want that,” she mumbled.
How could she take such a huge risk? Five minutes ago, she’d been battling guilt and a host of other things that had prevented her from even thinking like this. She couldn’t realign the absolutes in her head that fast. She could barely process that there was the remotest possibility that Isaiah could be hers.
And now she was actually contemplating the possibility of seizing her dream and leaving Superstition Springs—something that had never seemed plausible but with Havana back and living with Serenity again, she could watch out for their aunt in Aria’s stead. It was perfect.
Cassidy raised a brow. “He might not. But what if he’s waiting for you to make a move? Can you really not take this opportunity to find out? And if it doesn’t work out, fine. He’s leaving. You don’t ever have to face him again.”
The wisdom settled inside her. That was true. The risk wasn’t as great as she’d pretended but the reward—that might be worth it. All she had to do was pick up everything she’d intended to apply to her quest for Tristan and aim it back in Isaiah’s direction. Right? What was the worst that could happen?
And if it went well, she’d finally be the star in her own story.
“I have to go.”
Cassidy laughed. “Send me a postcard.”
Aria gave her friend a quick hug. “You don’t deserve a postcard. It didn’t occur to you to mention that you’d lost your interest in Isaiah like, I don’t know, two weeks ago? Or at church when I told you that you’d missed your chance with him at the movies? I mean, come on, Cassidy. I’ve been wracked with guilt.”
“Because you’re a good person,” Cassidy told her gently. “That’s why I love you and why everything is going to work out. I can feel it.”
That made one of them. Aria’s pulse was doing this weird thing where it missed beats and then made up for it by doing the next three triple time. “Do me a favor and let Ruby know I’ll be late.”
Cassidy cackled. “I’ll do you one better and tell her you’re sick.”
And that was that. She had no excuses not to forge ahead and find out exactly where she stood with Isaiah West, the man she’d accidently started falling for while she was busy pretending she’d been interested in someone else.
As she wandered away from Cassidy’s, everything came to a head instantly when she spied Isaiah’s lean form walking toward her in the distance. Her throat went creek-bed-in-a-drought dry as the conversation with Cassidy swirled through her chest to mix with the one she’d had with Tristan. If he could be believed, Isaiah had been making googly eyes at her this whole time and she’d missed it. No. She’d noticed but refused to acknowledge it—that was the real kicker. What might have happened on the roof that night if she’d been given these revelations prior to?
She couldn’t breathe. Think. Swallow. But neither could she flee. Not this time.
Isaiah’s pace slowed when he saw her but by that time, she’d started moving again and they met up halfway between the barn and Cassidy’s.
“I thought you were on your way to work,” he said when she halted in front of him.
“I was. But there was something I had to do first.”
How was she supposed to navigate this, just blurt it all out? This wasn’t like one of their rooftop sessions when the expectations had been low and she had all kinds of excuses not to admit what she was feeling. This was totally different, fraught with the possibility of being rejected and she had no safety net.
But this was also her one chance to be bold, to choose her own destiny. He was already on his way out the door and for some reason, knowing that in advance helped.
If she did it right, she might be buckled in next to him as he moved on. The idea appealed to her enormously. Adventure, romance, connection—all of it was right here in her grasp. Without a stupid makeover.
Inspired, she smiled. “I was thinking. You haven’t seen the springs yet. You can’t leave before you get to experience them.”
Equal parts intrigue and caution warred through his face. “You’re right, I’ve neglected that part
of Superstition Springs. I might breeze by there tomorrow on my way out of town. Can you give me directions?”
Directions? Like he intended to go by himself? Not hardly.
“Um, no. I can’t. I have to take you there personally. Right now. Come on.” Emboldened, she grinned. “Race you. I bet you can’t beat me.”
And with that, she took off, praying he’d follow her, that the dare was enough to pique his interest when he’d clearly been thinking the trip would be a solo venture. Gratified to hear his footsteps echoing behind her, she slowed her pace just a touch in case he had trouble keeping up. She should have realized that his body had been honed by the military and thus he had absolutely no problem sprinting a mile to the springs that lay to the north of town.
Aria, on the other hand, was breathing pretty hard by the time the outcropping of rocks appeared on the horizon, but she kept going until she hit the base of the springs.
“That was…invigorating,” Isaiah said, his mouth quirking as he leaned on one of the giant boulders to catch his breath. “Was there a reason we had to come today? At full speed, no less?”
“Yeah, this is more private than the roof.” Obviously more than just one person had seen them up there and she had little interest in an audience. Leaving him to puzzle through that comment on his own, she started climbing the rocks until she stood at the top. Glancing down, she lifted her brows. “You can’t see the springs from down there.”
Isaiah didn’t hesitate to start climbing and the moment he drew up next to her, his eyes widened. His gaze panned the gorgeous and thoroughly hidden area that she’d always loved. They were standing on the natural basin that contained the crystal blue water of the springs that were an odd, atypical section of the normally mud-colored Colorado River.
“Welcome to Superstition Springs,” she said.
“You should really lead with this,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful. It kind of spears you, right here.”
He brushed his chest with his fingertips and then let his hand dangle down between their thighs, which happened to be where hers was. Their fingers somehow intertwined, maybe because she helped matters along, and suddenly, his gaze shifted from the springs to land on her.
