by Kat Cantrell
“Congratulations,” she murmured to him as Serenity took to the dais, crowing out his name.
Caleb’s expression was nothing short of stunned. And that was all she could take of this. Havana fled the diner without looking back.
Twelve
Holy crap what had just happened?
Caleb couldn’t catch his breath as Serenity hustled him up on the stage, arm slung around his waist and her face wreathed in smiles. The guys all wore matching expressions of half mirth and half disbelief as if they couldn’t decide whether to laugh or demand a recount. Or maybe that was just him.
“Are you sure I’m the winner?” he muttered low enough that only Serenity and Augusta Moon could hear him. “That can’t be right.”
Of course it could. Even Havana had assumed this would be the outcome. He’d been in denial because… he couldn’t be mayor. A dull buzz started up in his head.
“Stop being modest,” Serenity instructed firmly and shouted out to the crowd, “Our new mayor!”
The folks whistled and clapped, generally having a good old time celebrating an electoral win that never should have happened. Caleb could not be the mayor. It was ridiculous. These people had made a mistake expecting him to lead anything more complicated than a horse to water. And even then, he sure didn’t have the right to make it drink.
“This wasn’t supposed to turn out like this,” he whispered to Serenity with a fierceness that she brushed off.
“It’s providence,” she told him as if that explained everything and probably did if you had the ear of the universe.
Caleb did not. What he did have was an extreme bout of nausea that did not bode well for his acceptance speech. A flash forking through his vision told him some very bad memories were about to surface, and when scenes from al-Sadidiq made an appearance, his demons weren’t far behind.
His leadership days had ended abruptly for a reason. He sucked at it. People had died. Rowe still had nightmares to contend with, and not all of them happened while he was asleep.
“We’re happy to have you as our first mayor,” Augusta Moon told him as she pumped his hand. The pretty woman, who wasn’t much older than he was, nodded at the crowd. “They’re waiting on you to make your acceptance speech.”
Totally befuddled, Caleb turned to the crowd, drinking in their upturned, expectant faces. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Mavis J called out, patting the arm of the gentle giant standing next to her. “Let Lennie and I be the first to welcome you into the fold.”
And like that, his panic vanished in a blink. These people were embracing him for no other reason than because he’d stood up for their uniqueness. His doubt demons might be fighting to make an appearance, but something even deeper began to bleed toward the surface.
He’d come here to find a purpose. A home. A place to belong and heal, and that was being handed to him. Was he really going to throw that back?
No. No, he was not.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Forge ahead. “I still don’t know what else to say other than I humbly accept. I’ll do my best to honor the trust you’ve shown me today.”
The crowd applauded, and his team surged forward to clap him on the shoulder, offering their congrats and general support. He could do this. They would be right behind him. Tristan might wisecrack, but he’d break the tension every time. Hudson would be first in line to do anything required to move Caleb’s agenda forward. Isaiah would make sure they all understood their value to the team. Rowe would just be Rowe, never wavering in his solid presence because Hardys didn’t bail no matter how hard it got.
Caleb’s spine straightened, and he swallowed easily for the first time in ages.
One thing in his favor—this town hadn’t ever had a mayor before, so the bar was pretty low.
When he got back to the hotel later that night, the guys were in a celebratory mood, so it was a long while until he made his way to his room. But when he got there, he was too keyed up to sleep. He wandered out onto the balcony that overlooked the street. The town had long gone quiet, a reality he aimed to change now that he’d been handed some power in this place. Eventually he’d like to see some nightlife as an alternative draw for guests at the resort. Assuming he could figure out a way for Scott’s investment company to still build it if the residents stuck firm to their guns and didn’t sell the land they all jointly owned.
If Havana’s warning had been right, the resort might not happen if Caleb didn’t green light the shopping center. And he had no plans to.
As if thinking about her had actually conjured her, the back of his neck prickled as Havana appeared on the landing of the stairwell that led to the alleyway. She climbed over the railing and stood there, a shadowy figure lurking in the darkest part of the balcony.
“I wanted to say congratulations again,” she murmured.
The lone streetlight shone from down the block near Ruby’s, and the moon hadn’t risen yet, so it was hard to make out her expression. The sincerity in her voice couldn’t be mistaken though.
That hooked him in a place deep inside. She’d lost the election and probably her shopping center, yet she’d sought him out to tell him congratulations. What kind of woman was this?
One he wished he knew better.
Since she seemed a little skittish and unsure about her welcome, he crossed to her so they could at least be within shouting distance. Or even closer than that. The moment he halted, her perfume invaded the space around him, winding up his senses for something far more intimate than shouting.
“Thanks,” he murmured back. “Why are we whispering?”
“Because… I don’t know. It’s dark. And I feel like I’m disturbing you,” she responded at precisely the same low decibel level, forcing him to get even closer to hear her.
Which worked for him on several levels. “You disturb me all right.”
It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t see the brief lift of her lips. “I get that a lot.”
He would just bet she did. A woman as beautiful as Havana probably went around disturbing men on a visceral level twice a week. The double whammy of the weight of his new title and Havana’s heavy presence threatened to push him to his knees, but he stayed on his feet through sheer will.
“Do we need to talk about the shopping center?”
Good. Subject change. He could keep it together.
She shrugged. “Not much to talk about. You’re going forward with your new age town. That means it’s over and I’ve lost. I still have to talk to Damian about how this is going to go over with his investors. It could mean that we have to pull up stakes permanently and find another spot for the resort.”
Yeah, he’d expected her to say that.
“You know that’s going to greatly affect what the folks do here with this downtown area. Right? If there’s no resort, there’s no captive audience and not much reason to do anything fancy to these buildings. I don’t think we can conceive of anything catchy enough to pull people from Austin otherwise.”
“I disagree.” This time he heard the smile in her voice. “You’ll figure it out. They elected you because they can see greatness in you. You won’t disappoint them.”
He had to laugh at that, though it came out choppy and not very amused. “Their loyalty is misplaced.”
“I don’t think so. You have this ability to influence people. It’s kind of mindboggling to watch, actually. I’m a little jealous.”
Her voice wound through him, more than a little bit affecting for lots of reasons but mostly because her admiration struck something inside. “I don’t do anything special.”
“You don’t have to. It’s part of your charm. You talk and people listen, ready to follow you because they’ve already decided you’re an authority figure. Your friends came with you to Superstition Springs, didn’t they? I don’t think that was an accident.”
It wasn’t. But he didn’t recognize himself at all in her descr
iption. Maybe she’d gotten him confused with a commanding officer or a platoon leader—you followed them no matter what because that was the drill. Caleb wasn’t the hero figure she’d been trying to paint him as. “My guys are tight. They’d have followed any one of us.”
“But they didn’t. They followed you,” she reminded him gently with a light laugh. “Why am I the one giving you the pep talk?”
A smile spread across his face. “I was wondering the same thing. Maybe because you know this is messed up. You should have won.”
“No.” She was so matter-of-fact that he didn’t immediately jump into an argument about it. “This is reality. I don’t have the ability to influence like you do. I have to fight my way through any situation.”
“That’s because you try too hard to control everything,” he said without thinking how that might come across and then shrugged. “In the spirit of this conversation, I’m just being honest. It’s like you immediately expect everyone to do what you want without taking time to step back long enough to figure out how to earn people’s allegiance.”
“Is that what you do?” she asked quietly.
“What? No.”
Well, maybe he did. Maybe that was why he got so choked up when his team rallied around him, because what they’d all been through together mattered. He didn’t trade on that but instead considered their experiences as a cohesive mechanism. He’d certainly never thought of how he interacted with his guys as earning his place at their head.
But if she was right, it was a good way to think about how to lead a town. Instead of having all the answers right away, he’d take a step back. Figure out how to earn the loyalty they’d already shown him.
“I don’t know,” he amended. “Yeah. I guess I do try hard to figure out where people fit best, how to help them hone their skills. Think about the greater good and always do the right thing. Same as anyone would.”
“But that’s not what everyone does.” The slight note of amused exasperation made him smile. “I try to do that, but it doesn’t come across the same way. You are special whether you like it or not, so stop arguing with me.”
“See there you go being bossy again.”
“I didn’t want to like you,” she said wryly. “You make it pretty hard not to.”
“It’s part of my charm.” And she couldn’t deny that he had some since she’d already admitted as much. “I don’t want to like you either.”
“Because I’m bossy.”
She stated it as a fact, as if that detracted from her sexiness. “Uh, no. I have never been threatened by an assertive woman. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that strong women are a turn-on. Because, you know, I can be a little hardheaded. You don’t let me run over you.”
He could sense her confusion as she contemplated him, though what she could actually see in the dark remained a mystery. “Then why can’t you just like me?”
“Because you’re engaged, Havana!” That had come out a little more forcefully than he’d have liked and also reminded him that he had no business being out here on this semiprivate balcony with Scott’s fiancée. “It’s plain wrong to think about you the way I do.”
Yeah, that was a stellar confession to tack onto the end.
She froze. “What way is that?”
Oh no, he wasn’t digging this hole any deeper. “Forget I said anything.”
The silence stretched to the point of snapping, and then she cleared her throat. “What if… I wasn’t engaged to Damian?”
“Hold your horses.” His hand flew up as if he could physically stop the force of her words. Nothing, however, could stop the very visceral reaction in his gut as he internalized the possibilities. Which was wrong. “I didn’t mention it to get you to do something about it! You can’t dump your fiancé for me. That’s crazy talk. We’re not… I’m not— Jeez, Havana. You can’t drop a thing like that on a guy.”
She had to fix it. It might already be too late. This was bad. So bad he’d have to go very far away because he’d never be able to look Scott in the eye again. He might not even be able to look himself in the eye again.
Her laugh did nothing to mellow him out.
“Relax. I’m not dumping him for anyone. The truth is… Wow, this is harder to admit than I would have expected.” She took a deep breath. “It’s fake. I asked him to play my fiancé to avoid unpleasant questions. I’m not even seeing anyone. And I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”
His whole world fell off a cliff as he internalized her meaning. Havana was not engaged to Scott. Havana was not engaged to anyone. She was single. One hundred percent free as a bird and he could think about her any way he pleased. In his arms. In the shower. Diving into the springs as she beckoned him closer with a laugh. All of it was okay.
Breath his lungs had been holding hostage rattled in his throat and came out as a cough. “Not engaged.”
“Not even a little,” she confirmed. “It’s exhibit A for why you’re not wrong about my obsessive need to control everything. If I’m engaged, there’s no chance something unexpected will happen.”
Blinking, he filled in those blanks faster than a speeding bullet. “Unexpected. Like meeting someone in the Dorito aisle you mean.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Her voice trailed off to a low murmur that feathered across his skin, raising awareness that honed his senses to a fine edge. Heaviness in the air pressed down on him, but he couldn’t blame the weight of this conversation on the humidity. It was one hundred percent Havana who’d loaded everything with meaning and significance. On purpose? He burned to find out.
“Then that begs the question. Why did you tell me?”
“Because I want to see what it feels like to let go. Control is just an illusion, right?”
She’d swayed closer to him, so close that he could reach out and gather her into his arms with scarcely any effort. So he did. Her soft sigh fluttered across his Adam’s apple.
“I’ve been dreaming of finding my way here again,” she said.
More confessions of the variety he was coming to vastly appreciate. Especially since he’d been dreaming of that too. “All you had to do was say the word.”
“I don’t do this kind of thing well.”
“Which kind of thing, letting a man hold you?” She was a natural, melting into his embrace easily, as if she’d been formed to fit like this against him. “I’m not finding any issues with your technique, but I’m free all night if you’d like to spend time practicing.”
Her lips turned up against his throat, and he loved that he could feel her smiling. “No, dummy. Telling a man I’m interested. Letting things happen instead of trying to dictate every second.”
Probably because she talked too much to let things happen. “Let me help you out with that.”
Before she could squeak out another word, he settled his mouth on hers, drawing out the contact until she engaged and then it became a kiss.
Holy cow did it. When Havana got on board with something, she went for broke, drowning him in sensation as she took over, shaping her mouth with his and nestling even deeper into his arms.
This was his chance to indulge. Winding his fingers through her hair, he let the silk speak to him through his flesh, and it had plenty to say. That vibrant fall of red felt like heaven, sliding through the Vs of his fingers again and again as he kissed Havana. Finally.
All the tension between them sparked and caught fire, blazing higher and higher as he let her strength and determination heighten the experience.
All at once, she wrenched away, flying out of his embrace before he’d fully registered it happening.
“Sorry,” she gasped out. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Okay,” he said slowly because his brain hadn’t reengaged yet. He clenched his jeans with both hands to keep from reaching out for her again, because that was a very real danger. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s not you, it’s—”
&n
bsp; “Me,” he finished flatly on her behalf. “I get it.”
“You don’t,” she corrected, and he could feel her chest rising and falling even though they weren’t within touching distance anymore. “Because I didn’t tell you everything. I was engaged. For real. To someone who’s not Damian. Cole. And it ended, not by my choice. I invented the engagement to Damian because I can’t go through that again.”
“So, if I’m reading all this right,” he said as pieces fell into place more quickly than he’d have liked, “you’re lumping me into a category of men like your ex-fiancé who break promises and deliberately hurt you. And that’s why you can’t kiss me. Because I have the same basic equipment as some other loser who isn’t me.”
“No.” She shook her head and then made a noise in her chest. “Well, yeah. I guess so when you put it that way.”
“What other way is there to put it? I’m a man, so therefore I’m going to treat you like your ex. And that means we’re going to be over before we started. Which part did I get wrong?”
“The part where I’m acting like an idiot,” she muttered with a hoarse laugh. “I’m sorry. This is me trying to control every aspect of my life so I don’t have to curl up in a ball after having my heart ripped out of my chest. It’s not your fault.”
He unclenched his hands from his jeans as his swirling temper vanished. Yeah, he’d fallen in a little deeper with her than he’d have guessed as well because this all felt very real and very huge to him too. Her vulnerability humbled him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “We’ve already established that you’re a mess of a control freak. I’m still here. How about this? You go back to your room and dream about me tonight. Tomorrow I’ll take you on a real date with no fake fiancés between us. Then we’ll see what’s what. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t. You’re the mayor,” she reminded him, and her voice had regained some color.
Honestly, he liked it raspy and affected. But he liked it strong and purposeful too. Basically, he wanted to be wherever Havana Nixon was and to prove to her that all men were not created equal.
