Chapter 10 #3
“That this was supposed to be mine. That all the destruction in Chicago had led me here for a reason.” I gestured at the empty space around us. “I know that sounds naive.”
“It sounds like someone who knows what they want and is brave enough to pursue it.” His voice had gone soft in the way I’d learned meant he was being completely honest. “That’s not naive, Talia. That’s clear-sighted.”
The way he said my name made something flutter low in my stomach.
Not the friendly warmth I felt with Jace or the peaceful safety of Hollis’s bookstore.
This was sharper, more dangerous. Pure want mixed with the terrifying intimacy of being seen clearly by someone whose opinion had started to matter far too much.
“Tell me about the development project,” I said, needing to shift the conversation before I did something stupid. “About why you chose Hollow Haven over your family.”
His expression shuttered immediately, professional walls slamming back into place. Over two weeks, I’d learned to recognize this defensive posture. He did it every time the conversation turned to his family.
“That’s not a very cheerful late-night conversation topic.”
“You know about Vincent. You know what I’m running from.” I met his eyes steadily. “Fair’s fair.”
He considered this for a moment, then leaned back against the wall with a sigh that carried years of complicated history. I’d heard that sigh before, usually right before he shared something that cost him to admit.
“My family’s company had been planning the Hollow Haven development for eighteen months before I arrived. The start was the spa resort and then they planned luxury condos, high-end retail, completely transforming the valley from working-class mountain town into playground for the wealthy.”
“Sounds profitable.”
“It would have been extremely profitable. Thirty-year revenue projections were impressive enough to justify the environmental damage and community displacement. Hell it didn’t even make sense in the end with just the problems they were creating for the water resources in the area.
” His voice had gone flat, professional.
“I was sent here to do final site surveys and community liaison work. Six weeks of schmoozing locals, gathering data, and presenting the project as inevitable.”
“But you didn’t do that.”
“I started to.” He met my eyes, and I saw something like shame flicker across his face.
“The first two weeks, I played my role perfectly. Attended community meetings, took officials to expensive dinners, explained how development would bring jobs and economic growth. All the talking points my father had drilled into me since I was old enough to understand what our family did.”
I waited, letting him take his time. This was more than he’d shared before, more vulnerability than I’d seen from him.
“What changed?” I asked softly.
“I started actually looking at what we’d be destroying.
Not just cataloging property values and access routes, but seeing the ecosystem we’d be obliterating.
The watershed that provided clean water for three towns.
The wildlife corridors that had existed for thousands of years.
The small businesses that would be forced out by rising property taxes even if they weren’t directly displaced. ”
He paused, and I watched him process memories that clearly still hurt.
“There was this moment,” he continued quietly, “when I was standing at the overlook where my family wanted to build the main resort complex. Perfect view of the entire valley. And I realized I was looking at something worth more than any profit margin could justify destroying.”
“So you sabotaged the project.”
“I documented everything. Every environmental study we’d commissioned and then buried because the results didn’t support our plans.
Every conversation where engineers acknowledged the risks and my father ordered them to minimize the findings in official reports.
Every piece of evidence that showed we knew exactly how much damage we’d cause and decided profit was worth it. ”
His hands had clenched into fists without him seeming to notice. I reached out on instinct, covering his fist with my palm. He startled slightly, then slowly relaxed his fingers until we were holding hands on the dusty bistro floor.
The contact sent warmth racing up my arm, but I didn’t pull away. This felt important, this moment of connection while he shared something that still caused him pain.
“I gave everything to one of the rangers who was working to try and save the watershed. Timed it for maximum impact, right before the final county approval hearing.” His thumb brushed across my knuckles absently, and I wondered if he even realized he was doing it.
“My father found out within hours. Called me a traitor. Said I’d destroyed decades of work and our family’s reputation out of misguided idealism. ”
“You saved this town.”
“I betrayed my family.” He said it matter-of-factly, like stating objective truth rather than defending a choice.
“They’re not wrong about that. I used inside knowledge and family resources to destroy a project they’d invested millions developing.
From their perspective, I’m exactly what they call me. ”
“From their perspective, profit matters more than people and ecosystems.” I squeezed his hand. “That says more about them than it does about you.”
“Maybe.” He looked down at our joined hands like he was surprised to find them connected. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m functionally orphaned at thirty-three. No family, no trust fund, no social network beyond the few people who think what I did was principled instead of treasonous.”
“You have Hollow Haven. The town you saved.”
“The town that still views me with suspicion because they don’t know I’m the one who saved them.” His smile was rueful. “Can’t exactly announce it without sounding like I’m trying to rehabilitate my family’s reputation.”
“Then I’ll know it,” I said firmly. “And that’s enough for now.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, still holding hands, the permit applications forgotten around us. Outside, Hollow Haven had settled into a deep night quiet. No traffic, no voices, just the two of us in the empty bistro that represented everything I was trying to build.
“Thank you,” I said finally. “For telling me. For trusting me with that.”
“Thank you for asking.” He looked at me directly, and the intensity in his gray eyes made my breath catch. “You’re easy to talk to, Talia. Easier than anyone I’ve known in years.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
The admission hung between us, acknowledging what we’d both been carefully not saying. That this connection felt bigger than it should. That two weeks had created an intimacy that usually took months. That the pull between us was about more than professional networking or friendly support.
That I was in trouble, because I was definitely attracted to Cassian Black, and I had no idea what to do about it.
He shifted slightly, angling toward me, and suddenly we were very close. Close enough that I could see the silver threading through his dark hair at his temples. Close enough to count individual eyelashes. Close enough that leaning forward just a few inches would close the distance entirely.
My pulse hammered in my throat. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see his pupils dilate as he looked at my mouth. The air between us felt thick, heavy with want and restraint in equal measure.
“Talia.” My name came out rough, almost pained. “I should probably go.”
“Probably,” I agreed, not moving. Not wanting to move.
“It’s late. You need to sleep before your permit submission tomorrow.”
“I do.”
“And staying here, like this, is a bad idea.”
“Terrible idea,” I whispered.
Neither of us moved. The tension stretched between us like a physical thing, taut and trembling. I could see the war happening behind his eyes, desire fighting with restraint. His hand tightened around mine, and I felt an answering pull low in my stomach.
Kiss me, I thought desperately. Please kiss me so I can stop wondering what it would feel like.
But I didn’t say it out loud. Because kissing Cassian would change everything. Would add him to the growing confusion I already felt about Jace and Hollis. Would turn attraction into action, make this real in ways I wasn’t sure I could handle.
And I was already so confused about two other men that adding Cassian felt like inviting chaos.
He pulled back slowly, carefully, putting professional distance between us again. The loss of his proximity felt like cold water, shocking after the heat that had been building.
“I should let you finish up here.” His voice had returned to normal, controlled and polite, but I could hear the strain underneath. “Good luck with the permit submission tomorrow.”
“Thank you. For dinner. For the company. For everything.”
“Anytime.” He stood and offered me his hand to help me up. I took it, letting him pull me to standing, trying very hard not to think about how good his hand felt wrapped around mine. How right it felt to be this close to him.
We walked to the door together, and I unlocked it to let him out. He paused on the threshold, silhouetted against the streetlights, and looked back at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Talia.” He hesitated, like he was weighing something important. “What I said earlier, about not being sure why I keep finding excuses to help you.”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m starting to figure it out.” His voice was quiet, honest in a way that made my chest tight. “And it’s more complicated than I expected.”
“Complicated how?”
“Complicated in ways that probably require more thought before I say anything else.” He smiled slightly, self-deprecating. “I’m usually better at strategy than this. Better at knowing what I want and how to get it.”
“And now?”