Chapter 21
“ A ll right, let’s hear it,” Celeste demanded when they were a safe distance from Paradise. Sam had been unusually silent, so she knew he was thinking about it and trying to find the right words.
He took a deep breath. “First of all, you were right. Everyone in the entire town seems to have some sort of mental defect or quirk that makes them seem like an experiment gone wrong. It’s a pharmaceutical goldmine, an entire untapped market for mass Quaaludes and Prozac.” Before she could muster a smile of triumph, he continued. “And I love them. I mean, seriously and insanely love them. I want to alternately adopt, be adopted by, and/or marry all of them.” He faced her, clutching his hands together. “I want to live here forever and always. Please may I?”
“What?” she said, half laughing, certain he must be joking.
“I’m serious. I love it. They’re all so quirky and fun. You would never be bored here, ever. And I bet we’ve only scratched the surface of insanity. Think how much more is left undiscovered.” He threw his hands wide, forcing her to duck out of the way or risk being clocked in the jaw.
“What would you do for a job? You know nothing about cattle ranching, and from what I can tell there isn’t much else,” she said.
“Spoiler alert: thanks to some fairly shady accounting on the part of my uncles, I don’t ever have to do actual work again, if I don’t want,” he said.
“But don’t you want? You’re so young. You could do anything,” Celeste said.
He shrugged. “Maybe. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”
She faced forward, staring hard at the horizon. “I definitely see how you fit here, but not me,” she said.
“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment. Also, you definitely fit. You just don’t see it,” he said.
“How do I fit? I am neither quirky nor fun.”
He jutted an accusing finger at her. “You are quirky and fun and adorable. Paradise becomes you, admit it.”
Instead she rubbed two fingers against her temple. “Great, it’s catching. You seem to have caught whatever they have.”
“A zest for life,” he suggested.
“A delusional separation from normal society. Was there oxygen when you were trapped in that border-crossing box?”
“Based on the depth and soundness of my sleep, probably no. But I am telling you, this is a great town. The perfect place to have an orchard and start a family.”
Celeste’s heart began to beat hard because now they were moving from the theoretical to the possible and she didn’t like it. “The orchard is dead and so is my desire to ever procreate.”
“Were you quoting Elizabeth Barrett Browning, or did you make that up?” he rested his head on the seat behind him, studying her. They pulled up in front of her house and she shut off the car, leaving her hand on the ignition. “You planning to ditch me and take off again?”
“I’m thinking about it,” she said.
“Hey.” He reached over and touched her hand, pulling it off the ignition and holding it in his hand while he petted it gently like a gerbil. “Are you okay, for real? That guy grabbed you pretty hard.”
She let out a breath, relieved to be talking about something she could actually wrap her mind around. “Believe it or not, that wasn’t my first time being manhandled. And I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
His free hand reached out and smoothed the hair at her temple, an oddly soothing and affectionate gesture. “It must be hard to be little and pretty and vulnerable when men like that exist in the world, ready to prey on you.”
Her face had a mind of its own, leaning into his touch without her permission. “I’ve built up some pretty thick walls. I’m no one’s idea of easy prey,” she said.
“But you shouldn’t have to have walls. You should get to be soft and vulnerable and protected.”
His words smarted because she had never, ever been any of those things, not as far back as she could remember, not for a moment. She’d always had to be tough, to be hard, to take care of herself. Suddenly her eyes stung and she was mortified, afraid she might break down and cry in front of this man who had no idea the horrors of her past, nor would he ever, not if she had her way. He somehow saw her as better than she was, a first. No way would she disillusion him.
He leaned across the console and kissed the spot high on each cheek, directly under each eye. Celeste sucked a shaky breath and then, before she could open the eyes he’d kissed closed, he kissed her lips, a soft and gentle brush of affection.
“What was that?” she asked, backing away from him when the kiss was over.
“I just think we should,” he whispered. If he had looked any less befuddled and shocked than she felt, she would have pushed him away. Instead she decided to give in and go with it.
“Okay,” she whispered and, slipping her fingers into his thick, messy hair, pulled him close and kissed him with far more than tenderness or affection, though they were there too, mingled with fear and attraction and a touch of desperation. His free hand touched her waist and she felt a little electric thrill spiral through her. They were on the cusp of something neither of them condoned, with no idea how to stop, when the sound of crunching gravel finally broke through the haze.
Celeste lurched back, giving his chest a little shove as she struggled for oxygen. “Someone’s here.”
“What?” Sam murmured, smoothing his thumb over her bottom lip as he stared at it.
“People. People are here.” She reached for her gun and checked it and he finally snapped to attention.
“Why are you always armed when I caress you?” he demanded. She laughed and he smiled, softening. “And why do these newcomers have the worst timing in the world?”
Celeste wasn’t certain if it was the worst timing or the best. She and Sam had definitely been on a runaway train to nowhere good, and she was both glad and sad for the reprieve. Did she want to have a fling with Sam? She had never decided, but she knew it was something she needed to think about before anything else happened between them. There should be logic and discussion and no soft lips involved whatsoever.
“Oh, no,” Sam said, staring at the mirror in his visor. “It’s them.”
“Who?” Celeste asked. Had the cowboy from before followed them home and brought backup? And why was she absurdly hopeful that was the case? Better to deal with it now than let it linger.
“Them. The team. It might be her.” He squeezed his eyes closed.
“Her who?” she asked, still a bit dazed from the kiss.
“ Her who. My ex. It could be her and her husband. Would The Colonel be that cruel?”
“To you, maybe. Probably not to her.”
He relaxed, nodding. “Right, yes. No one can be cruel to her. It’s impossible.” He took a breath.
Celeste tossed him a scowl he missed. She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t . But no one could be as angelic as he made his ex out to be. It was, to borrow his word, impossible.
She holstered her gun and stepped from the car, squinting again in the bright sun/snow mix. At first she didn’t recognize the man who stepped from the other car, caught in the glare as he was, but as he came closer her smile grew until it beamed.
“Leo,” she called, waving like Maybe had earlier. She had always liked Leo and she hadn’t seen him in years, way too long.
“Celeste,” he returned, sounding equally as happy to see her. They didn’t hug, of course, former marine and soldier they were, but they did clasp hands mid-air, sort of an affectionate high five.
“So you know him,” Sam said, and was it Celeste’s imagination or did he sound a bit testy?
“We go back a ways,” Celeste said. “Wow, how long now?”
“Marrakesh, October 24 th , fourteen years ago,” a woman said, and now everyone turned to face her. She had been so still and silent no one noticed her at first. Now she stood beside Leo, tempering his wild energy with her steady presence. They were like panther and keeper, Celeste thought, smiling wryly to herself.
Leo put his arm around the woman’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “This is Esther. Esther, this is Celeste and, I presume, Sam.”
“No,” Sam said testily. “I’m the other terrorist she keeps on standby for occasions such as these.”
“Reformed terrorist,” Esther amended and Sam beamed.
“I like her very much,” he said.
“Me, too,” Leo said, giving her another squeeze. His glance slid to the house. “Is it okay if we go inside?”
“Sure,” Celeste said, jumping to attention with a flutter. These were the first guests she’d had—Sam didn’t count, foisted on her without notice as he’d been. What if they thought the house was terrible? “I don’t have any food. I didn’t know when you were coming, and…” why hadn’t she thought to buy extra while they were in town? At the very least she could have gotten another pie. The house might not be impressive, but the pie definitely was.
“I brought food,” Esther volunteered, holding a plastic box aloft.
Celeste paused and faced her in amazement. “You did?”
Esther froze, now looking uncertain. “Was that okay? Leo gets hungry, so I brought some bread and a coffee cake. Also cookies.”
“Did you stop at a bakery?” Celeste asked, amazed they’d been able to find one on their snowy journey.
“She made it,” Leo said and there was no mistaking the beaming pride in his tone, or in his expression as he smiled down at Esther.
“If it’s too weird, we don’t have to eat it,” Esther said. Celeste realized she was still staring at her in openmouthed astonishment.
“It’s fantastic,” she said at last. She had never personally known anyone who could make things. To her baking was like something from Harry Potter, pure fantasy.
“It’s science,” Esther said, placidly unaware of Celeste’s awe. “I can show you how, if you want.”
Sam poked her, nodding. Celeste smiled up at him. “I like her very much,” she declared.
“I know, right?” he agreed and the four of them went inside.