15. Elodie
FIFTEEN
ELODIE
There are few days that go down in history as truly perfect .
Today was not one of them by any stretch of the imagination. I was filthy, tired, and frustrated that sometimes I had to exercise patience.
I hated that.
Tire Mountain was a wild idea but would help the town reduce its waste while adding an attraction to the farm. Trouble was, getting thirty gigantic semitruck tires dug into the side of a hill was a hell of a lot more work than I’d bargained for.
But it didn’t matter, because it was for the kids. I really wanted it to be complete before the Ghost of Star Harbor tour gave people a peek into what we were creating on the farm. I would have to settle for half built and hope everyone else could see how great it was going to be.
The night of the tour was thick with mist, hanging low along the streets of downtown Star Harbor like something alive, creeping into the cracks of old buildings, stretching long fingers into the hollows of the trees .
The ghost walk had started off as fun, an excuse to get tangled up in the town’s past, but somewhere along the way the atmosphere had shifted.
Now at the end of the tour, standing at the entrance to the farm, looking at the shadows stretching long and lean across the dirt road, I felt the weight of something I couldn’t name pressing against my skin. A tingle danced up my spine.
The scent of damp earth and lake water clung to the air, mingling with the faintest trace of something else—cedar and smoke, something sharp and clean, something unmistakably him .
Callum.
He wasn’t looking at me, but I could feel him. The way his presence took up space, the way my body had been attuned to him all evening, tracking his movements without even meaning to.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my arms against the sudden chill.
The tour was wrapping up, the lingering guests listening to the last stories woven by the Keepers, but I didn’t move.
Because he was still here and because I still hadn’t stopped thinking about what I’d heard.
Not the kiss—that came later—but the private moment I hadn’t been prepared for. An image that still rattled through me at the worst times, creeping up my spine, pooling warm and restless low in my stomach.
I hadn’t meant to intrude, and I certainly hadn’t meant to walk into his house that day, catching him in the kind of moment that can’t be undone—can’t be unfelt once it had settled under the skin.
And now?
Now I stood in the dark and wondered— had Cal done it again? Had he thought about me like that since the first time? Had he muttered my name in the dark the way I’d heard it spill from his mouth that night, rough and wrecked, nothing like the cold detachment he pretended to wear like armor?
Lately, I had become obsessed with the thought. A slow burn started in my stomach, crawling lower, settling deep.
I swallowed hard, pressing my nails into my palms, forcing the thought away before it dragged me under.
“Okay, this is way spookier than I expected,” Kit said, suddenly appearing at my side, rubbing her arms. “I thought this was gonna be like a campfire-story situation, but this is legit terrifying. I feel like we should be holding hands.”
I huffed out a laugh but looped my arm with hers. “You need me to protect you?”
Kit scoffed. “You, protecting me? Okay, tough guy.”
Her tone was teasing, but I took the opportunity to shift the conversation before my thoughts wandered back where they shouldn’t.
In the evening light, against the dune cliff, the farm looked moody and menacing, not at all the memory-making family destination I was striving toward. I sighed, looking out over the fields. “I feel like it’s all coming together, you know? Like the hard work is finally paying off.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw my little sister make a face. “Yeah, Stan’s place is great ...”
I stopped to look at her. “What?”
Kit went to speak but paused. I pinned her with my best older-sister look so she’d continue. “Well, come on—I mean, you’re giving him ideas, but you’re not actually doing the work, right?”
I blinked at her, momentarily stunned. What the heck? Even my little sister doesn’t think I can do it ?
I swallowed back the sharp pang of tears before I let my emotions overtake me.
“I’m doing a lot of work, actually. Almost all of it, to be exact. Sure, I have help, but I’m not sitting on my ass eating bonbons while everyone else gets their hands dirty.” I held up my mangled manicure. “Do these look like they’ve seen the inside of a spa?”
Kit held up her hands in defense. “Whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the sweat equity you were putting into the place. Noted .”
“Sorry.” I softened. “I’m just a little tired and grumpy.”
Clearly my defensiveness was also indicative of some inner sore subject ... maybe I needed to work on that.
As we followed the group across the grass toward the dune cliff, I pointed to the front porch of the inn, where the cat was curled on the top step. “Speaking of things that need protecting ... I may or may not have manipulated Callum into adopting a stray cat.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Kit blinked, holding back her laughter.
I crossed my arms, tilting my chin up. “She’s scrappy and one-eyed and has the attitude of someone who’s survived a war. It seemed like a perfect pairing.”
Kit stared at me for a long second before her lips curled into an absolutely evil grin. “Wait—you thought he needed some pussy and brought him an actual cat instead of”—she gestured toward me—“dishing yourself up on a platter?”
My laughter and eye roll were immediate. “Trust me. Callum doesn’t want anything I have to offer.”
Kit hummed, unconvinced.
And now I was lying to myself and my little sister. Great.
The truth was, I still remembered exactly how it felt when he kissed me. How his hands had tightened on my waist, how his body had pressed firm and unyielding against mine, how his features had darkened before he?—
“Hello.” Kit waved a hand in front of my face. “You okay?”
I forced a very unbothered, completely fine, not-at-all-horny nod. “Yep!”
Kit’s knowing smile made it clear she wasn’t buying it.
The distant wail of wind cut through the night, sending a ripple of unease through the thinning crowd. I swallowed, shifting closer to the group of Keepers standing off to the side.
Helen’s voice dropped lower, spinning the final part of the legend.
“... and on nights like this, when the fog rolls in and the moon is hidden, some say you can hear her crying—the Lady of the Dunes, still waiting for the man she lost to the sea.”
Another gust of wind whispered through the trees.
I wasn’t scared, not really, but when another low, eerie sound rolled through the night, my stomach clenched, and I reached out, gripping something hard beneath my hand.
I looked down to see my fingers curled around Cal’s scarred, tattooed forearm.
Solid, warm, and unmovable.
I expected him to jerk away, to tease or to smirk, but instead, he went still. So still I could feel the shift in his breathing, feel the slight, tense flex of his muscles beneath my grip.
The warmth of him sank into my palm, searing my skin.
A slow, excruciating beat passed.
Then his voice came, low and unreadable. “Scared, Darling? ”
I swallowed hard. Too hard. “Pfft.” I let go too fast, crossing my arms. “No. Just”—I cleared my throat—“making sure I didn’t trip on those rocks.”
His gaze dragged slowly from my legs back up to my face. “Right.”
I turned away, pulse hammering, heart lodged somewhere in my throat. Kit snickered beside me and I jabbed her ribs with my elbow.
A familiar voice cut in. “Hey,” Austin said, stepping up beside Callum. We exchanged smiles and head nods as he stepped in line with us.
Helen and my sister Selene started passing out information about the Lady of the Dunes as the tour came to a close.
Austin leaned toward Cal. “Hey, that woman over there? What do you know about her?”
Kit perked up immediately, glancing between them to find Austin looking right at our sister Selene.
Callum flicked his gaze toward Austin. “Why?”
Austin shrugged, casual but a little too interested. “She seems ... interesting. Thought maybe you could introduce me.”
Kit’s eyebrows shot up, and she leaned toward me to whisper, “Ooooh. Selene’s got a hot younger man on her tail.”
I bit back a giggle but shushed her. “Leave her alone,” I whispered, but I would tuck that interesting little nugget away for later.
Callum, however, didn’t react beyond a slow exhale. “Maybe another time, man.” Cal turned to walk toward the inn.
Kit and I hung around near the fence line while the tour dispersed. When it ended, I hugged my sisters goodbye and lingered outside as the last of the crowd disappeared.
Crossing my arms, I breathed in a lungful of night air before glancing toward the Drifted Spirit. Cal was staring at me, his cat weaving a path between his legs.
I stared back, watching Callum watch me.
I rested my butt against the new porch railing of the cottage. With the dunes at my back, I watched and waited.
The cat twined herself around Cal’s legs again, rubbing her face against his pant leg.
Callum didn’t kick her away or shove her off. Instead, he reached down and scratched behind her ears as I fought a smile.
I wonder if he named her.
When he looked up, his eyes were softer, but intense. A lump formed in my throat, but before I could escape, Cal was already off the front porch and walking right toward me.