30. Elodie #2
I pressed my lips together, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean. ”
“Elodie.” He shot me a look, and I shot one right back.
I lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “They’re cute.”
He sighed. “They’re criminals.”
I gasped, clutching my chest. “How dare you. They’re family.”
Cal exhaled, long and suffering but laced with humor. “They tried to steal my dinner two nights ago.”
I jutted my lower lip out in a pout. “Maybe they were just hungry.”
He shook his head. “Maybe I was hungry.”
I bit back a grin as he muttered something under his breath about “woodland bandits” and “absolute menace behavior,” but before I could argue their case further, a sleek, familiar shape slunk out of the shadows, winding through the soft glow of the porch light.
Cal’s attention darted to the shadows. His cat Scratch trotted right up to him, weaving between his legs like she owned the damn place—which, honestly, she kind of did.
Cal sighed, bending down to rub behind Scratch’s ears. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, little troublemaker?” His voice was softer now, full of something that made my chest ache.
With a confident grin, I crossed my arms. “She loves you.”
Cal gave me an unimpressed look, but when he crouched down, I saw it—the moment his entire demeanor softened, the way his hand instinctively reached out to stroke over her sleek, scraggly fur.
“Damn cat,” he murmured, voice dropping into something warm, something private.
Scratch purred like an engine, arching into his touch, blinking up at him like he hung the moon.
Cal scooped up the cat, holding Scratch like a baby. His voice dipped even lower, smoothing into something that was almost ... baby talk. “Who’s my little troublemaker, huh? Are you causing problems out here, sweetheart?”
I sucked in a breath, my lips parting. Did he—did Callum Blackwood just coo at his cat?
I arched a brow, and when Cal glanced up and saw my expression, he immediately cleared his throat and straightened, like he hadn’t just been sweet-talking the feral murder machine who’d been leaving dead mice as gifts on my porch.
I let the silence stretch just long enough for him to feel it.
His jaw flexed as he set her on the ground. “Not a word.”
I grinned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Scratch rubbed against his leg again, and I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile.
Damn. He is so gone for that cat.
Cal straightened, watching me, his expression unreadable.
I swallowed hard. “Good night, Callum.”
For a second I thought he was going to kiss me again. Instead, his fingers brushed my jaw, his thumb ghosting over my cheekbone, his touch so soft, so reverent, my breath caught in my throat.
His voice was low, rough. “Good night, Darling.”
Something clicked in my brain and a tiny laugh rumbled in my chest. “I thought you said that was just my last name,” I teased.
His face was inches from mine, his deep eyes intensifying in the darkness. One finger slid down my nose with the gentlest touch. “It never really was.”
Before I could respond, he cupped my jaw, tilting my face up as his mouth claimed mine.
It wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was deep, lingering, full of something I couldn’t name but felt down to my bones.
His lips moved over mine with purpose, with quiet possession, like he was memorizing the shape of me, like he was staking his claim.
By the time he pulled back, my breath was uneven, my lips tingling, my thoughts scattered and wanting more .
Cal paused, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip before stepping away. With a click of his tongue, he barely had to glance down before Scratch trotted after him like she’d been waiting for the cue. Scratch purred, entirely unbothered, as if she had already decided where she belonged.
I stood there, stunned, watching them disappear into the night, my lips still tingling, my heart still racing.
That man was going to ruin me.
I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a long beat, letting out a slow breath. My lips still tingled, my skin still warm from Cal’s touch. My body hummed with the weight of everything that had happened tonight—the intimacy, the way he had opened up, the way I had let him in.
Who was I kidding? I had fallen for Callum Blackwood. Hard.
Shaking my head, I moved toward the bed, peeling back the covers before finding a pair of cozy pajamas.
I needed a hot shower and a deep sleep to recover from my evening with Cal.
As I stripped off my jeans, I caught sight of my discarded phone on the nightstand.
The screen glowed with a string of missed texts, one from Selene.
Selene
I don’t know why I am surprised you pulled it off, but the Keepers are all in for helping with the barn raising. Are you ready for Star Harbor to descend on you like a well-meaning hurricane?
I exhaled sharply, my pulse skipping.
It’s really happening.
My mind spun as I typed out a response. I set the phone down, the weight of it pressing into my chest. This farm, this wild dream—it was coming together, piece by piece, and not just because of me, but because of them. The people of this town, the Keepers, my family. Even Cal.
I ran my hands over my face, overwhelmed, but in the best way.
For the first time since I’d come back to Star Harbor, I wasn’t just trying to hold on to someone else’s dream. The dream had become my own, and I was building something real. Something lasting and meaningful.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t doing it alone.