Chapter 30
Luna
“Sometimes you have to unravel the yarn and start again.”
—Eloisa Hobby
Golden rays of sunshine peeked through the bedroom window, bathing Luna in a warm glow. After a night in Paul’s loving arms, Luna felt fundamentally changed. Picking up where they left off made everything seem possible.
Smiling, she opened her eyes and strolled her fingers across the sheet to touch him. She could scarcely believe she was here.
Or their memorable night together.
“Mornin’, Moonbeam.” He lay on his side, facing her, his hands tucked underneath his cheek.
“Hey there, handsome.”
His smile deepened as his eyes softened. “That was worth the twenty-two years’ wait.”
“Amen to that.”
“Mint?” He reached for a tin of Altoids on the bedside table.
“Are you saying I need fresh breath?”
“Kissing is on my agenda.”
She propped up on her pillow and took the Altoid he offered, popping the potent cinnamon mint into her mouth, not the least bit embarrassed to be naked in his bed. “How do you suppose the slumber party went?”
“My guess is that they had a terrific time and they’re still slumbering.”
“What time is it?” She craned her neck to see the clock on the dresser.
“Seven thirty.”
“Oh yeah, they’re still conked out.”
“Not missing us at all . . .” He lowered his lashes and reached for her.
The landline phone next to Paul’s bed jangled, startling Luna. Paul checked the caller ID. “It’s Orion, so obviously we’ve misjudged the sleeping capacity of our teens.”
She clasped a hand to her chest and reflexively started worrying. Had something happened? Were the girls okay? Calm down. Stop imagining the worst.
Paul answered the phone. “How’s it going, Ry?”
Luna couldn’t understand what Orion was saying, but she could hear the girl’s excited voice. “Are they okay? Where’s Artie?” Luna asked.
He shook his head and held up a finger, asking her to hold on a minute while he listened to his daughter. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”
Whew. If it was fun, that meant everything was okay. Luna relaxed and sank back against the pillow. She was getting better at letting go of her fears more easily. Baby steps.
“Hang on, let me ask her.” Paul put his palm against the receiver so Orion couldn’t overhear their conversation.
Luna mouthed, Me? If Orion knew she was there, Artie had to know too. How would she handle this?
“Orion and Artie want to go rock climbing. All the girls from the slumber party are going. One of their dads is a Boy Scout troop leader and a former marine. He’s got the supplies and equipment.”
It showed a great deal of personal growth on Luna’s part that she didn’t give a knee-jerk negative reaction. “What do you think?”
“I know the girl and her father,” Paul said. “They’re from Everly, and the girl is in Orion’s class at school.”
Luna’s instinct was to say no. Rock climbing sounded dangerous. “Um . . .”
“Gotta loosen the apron strings sometime, Mama Hen.”
He was right, but still. “Where will this rock climbing take place? On a climbing wall in Everly?”
“Opportunity Ridge.”
Outdoors. Eek. Even worse. “You mean Trouble Ridge?”
Paul put the receiver to his ear. “Artie’s mom isn’t sure about this.”
He listened while Orion talked, then put his hand over the receiver again. “She says Dot’s going along to help. How dangerous can it be if Dot can do it?”
“Dot looks like she could wrestle an alligator and tie it up in a red Christmas ribbon,” Luna said. “But it does make me feel better that another adult will be there as well.”
“So yes?” He sent her a coaxing grin. He lowered his tone. “Gives you and me more time alone.”
She sent him a sidelong glance and playfully licked her lips.
“Besides,” he said. “Dot has a satellite phone. She can call us straight from the ridge if anything goes sideways.”
“Just had to say that last part, huh?”
“Honey, odds are ninety percent the worst that happens is a few skinned knees. Artie’s tough. Let her have a little freedom.”
It went against Luna’s parenting instincts, but she didn’t want her daughter to grow up fearful the way she had. If they’d been back in the real world, her automatic answer would be a solid Over my dead body. But this was Hobby Island, a safe and magical place. Artie would be with Orion, Dot, and a host of other people. Letting Artie be independent was so hard, but here, with Paul smiling at her confidently, it was a little easier.
“Let her go,” he whispered.
“Okay, okay. Just tell them to be careful, put on sunscreen, and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate,” she said.
Paul relayed the message to their daughters and Luna could hear their whoops of happiness through the phone lines. He turned to her. “They’ll have a fun time. You’ll see.”
“Yeah?” Luna shook her head and teased, “If anything happens, I’m holding you responsible.”
He dangled the phone out to her. “Wanna talk to Artie?”
“Yes.” She took the phone. “Hello, kid.”
“So,” Artie said, “you spent the night with Paul.”
Wow, they were getting right into it. “You had a sleepover. So did I.”
“I think that’s great.” Artie giggled.
“Do you really?”
“Yeah. Paul’s good for you.” Artie’s voice sounded a little husky. Luna hoped she wasn’t coming down with something. “You smile all the time when you’re with him.”
“Do I?” She grinned at Paul, who leaned over to nibble her thigh.
“You do. And I know he’s the only reason I’m getting to go rock climbing.”
“Just be careful, okay? Wear sunscreen, watch for snakes, and—”
“I know, I know, hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.” Then she was gone, leaving the dial tone in Luna’s ear.
Luna cradled the receiver in its dock and turned back to Paul, who’d draped himself artfully over the sheets, stretched out fully naked . . .
And fully erect.
Holy firecracker! The man was smoking hot.
“Are you—”
She didn’t let him finish his sentence, covering the short distance between them and pouncing on him like they were eighteen.
“Whoa-ho!” He laughed, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her until Luna’s head spun.
If last night had been slow, sweet, and solicitous, this morning was fast-paced, spicy, and passionate.
Quickly, their desire mounted. Hearts pounded, blood heated, lust stirred. Wow! Fingers tickled. Pillows flew. Sheets twisted and Luna got to explore those rock-hard gardener muscles of his all over again. Wow, wow!
Then Paul backed off. “We better slow down if we want this to last all morning.”
“Oh, yes.”
He slipped under the covers and went down to her feet. Lightly, he sucked at her toes.
She giggled and wriggled away.
“Still ticklish around your toes?”
“Uh-huh.”
He moved up to her ankles, licking swirly little circles with his tongue.
“So, what’s your favorite flower?” she asked as Paul pressed sizzling kisses up her shin.
“Huh?” Glassy-eyed, Paul raised his head to peer at her, grinning.
“Your favorite flower. What is it?”
“That’s a hard question for a gardener to answer,” he said, “but I’m partial to lunaria, for obvious reasons.”
“You’re making that up. There’s no plant called lunaria.”
“What do you think all those purple flowers in the Crafters’ Corner quadrangle are?” His mouth was at her knee now and she flashed back to that glorious day in the cabana when his mouth had completely wiped away her senses.
“Seriously? Those flowers are called lunaria? I thought they were called honesty plants.”
“That’s the common name. The scientific name is Lunaria annua. I think of you whenever I collect the moon-shaped seedpods for planting the next season.”
“No.” She couldn’t believe that. “Really? You planted those flowers for me?”
“Not just you,” he said. “They’re purple and purple is Eloisa’s favorite color and honesty is her favorite trait. By a happy coincidence, we have the same favorite flower.”
“Oh, Paul.” She felt her emotions overflowing again. “Tell me about the Lunaria annua.”
“Hmm,” he said, moving his mouth up her belly, planting kisses in between his words. “Because the seeds are the size of silver dollars, they’ve come to symbolize money, honesty, and sincerity.”
She shivered against the tickle of his lips vibrating against her skin. “You don’t say.”
“In witchcraft, the lunaria is considered protective and keeps monsters away.” His mouth went up one thigh, but instead of going where she was throbbing, he veered up to her hip bone.
Eek, he was teasing her. Dragging things out. “Well, since the plants are everywhere on Hobby Island, I think we’re very safe and protected.”
His body moved over hers as his wicked mouth inched to her breasts. He kneaded her breast gently, teasing the nipple with his thumb. She arched her back and closed her eyes as her body gave in to the sensations. His body was hard and tight, like a steel beam, his skin hot, and heavenly soft.
He smelled of honeysuckle and jacaranda flowers. The scent of her own arousal stalked her senses, the musky smell of love.
Paul tugged her head down for a kiss. He tasted like cinnamon Altoids and the flowers of the island, sweet as nectar. His taste was the last thing she remembered, his mouth warm and soft, like a sponge, drawing her soul into it.
“Tell me more about the lunaria,” she whispered.
“When the seedpods are dried and ready to pop open, they rattle softly in the wind. It’s such a soothing sound, like a lullaby. I hear them whisper Luna, Luna, Luna.”
“So how do you plant them?” she asked, mesmerized by his voice.
“Oh, I see what you’re getting at. You want a blow-by-blow account.” He pressed his mouth against her belly and blew a soft raspberry.
She giggled again.
“Well,” he said, “they come back from seed every year. I only had to plant them that one year.”
“Just once?”
“They seed the second year. If you have the right soil and weather, which Hobby Island does. They’re called biennials.”
“You don’t say.”
He reached her breasts and tenderly touched his tongue to her. She shuddered against him and threaded her fingers through his hair.
“These plants, they’re easy to grow?”
“They’re like love. The more you plant, the more they grow.”
Luna’s heart was pounding so hard. What Paul was doing to her nipple was driving her straight out of her mind.
He sucked lightly, then let go to speak again. “They grow thick, bushy, and healthy. It’s fun for me to watch them thrive. I love watching the seeds wiggle in the wind.”
“Like this?” She wiggled her hips and widened her legs. She was so ready for him. Luna pressed into his pelvis to let him know exactly how much.
“Moonbeam,” he whispered.
She grasped his shoulders, sank her mouth against his neck, and nibbled. He tasted so damn good.
“That’s it.” His hands found her hot spot, traced her.
She let out a gasp. “More!”
He moved over her, his hardness against her softness, and then he was there. Inside of her. Her breath came out in a hot hiss.
“Oh yeah.” His lips roamed freely, a cartographer mapping unknown territories. Curiosity was his compass, and she had to admit, he knew how to navigate her body.
He gently turned her onto her back, giving her a master class in the art of cultivating desire. Their gazes intertwined, a silent conversation between souls while their bodies danced in harmony. A web of sensations washed over Luna—waves of pleasure, bursts of happiness, flares of exhilaration, and peaks of bliss.
In this moment, with Paul inside her, she felt an unshakable serenity. No turmoil, no issues. She was fully present and connected to him, attuned to herself, and in sync with their mutual rhythm.
Luna wrapped her legs around Paul’s waist and pulled him more deeply into her. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
In a sweaty tangle of arms and legs, they pushed each other into places they’d never touched before and when they came together, shuddered together, trembled as one, they stayed locked until they both fell sound asleep.
The sound of the phone ringing woke them up, broke them apart. Groggy, Luna pushed her bangs from her forehead, her gaze going to the clock on the dresser.
One thirty in the afternoon. How long had they been asleep, wrapped in the bliss of each other’s arms?
Paul rolled over and reached for the phone.
Humming under her breath, Luna got up, the braided rug welcoming her feet in the quiet. The gentle rhythm of the ocean waves outside the open window whispered through the air, merging with the serenity of her contented hum. Everything felt so right, so perfectly aligned, as if the island affirmed her choices.
Stepping through what she assumed was the door to the bathroom, Luna halted, her heart skipping a beat. Instead of the bathroom, she was staring into a small, dimly lit cubicle. Rows of monitors flickered in the semidarkness, each screen a window into various parts of the island—Crafters’ Corner, the row of B&Bs, the beach, the lighthouse, the butterfly hatchery . . .
The sight struck her like a physical blow, realization dawning painfully—Paul held secrets far deeper than she had imagined.
What was going on?
Luna turned back to him. He’d just hung up the phone and looked stunned. She was stunned too. “Paul, what is this?”
His face that before was relaxed and open was now guarded, serious. “Luna, I should have told you earlier. This is part of my work. I’m responsible for the island security. That’s my primary job. I’m not just the gardener and maintenance man.”
The room felt colder to Luna, the screens an invasive presence. “All this time . . . you’ve been watching everyone? How could you keep this from me?”
“It’s complicated.”
She raised both palms. She needed space and time to process this new, unsettling layer of the man she thought she knew. “I need to go.”
Turning, she searched for her clothes, finding them scattered all over his bedroom. She put on her bra, concentrating on the hooks so she didn’t have to think about Paul’s secrecy. They’d been on the island almost two months and he’d kept this information from her.
“Luna, you need to listen to me.”
“I can’t. I . . . please. I need to get away from you.”
“This isn’t about the cameras, my job, or even you and me.”
She looked up from yanking on her panties. His face was so dear, but her emotions were in free fall. He’d withheld information from her now just as he had twenty-two years ago. Vital information that changed how she thought of him.
“What is it, Paul? What’s so important?”
“That phone call—”
“Yes?”
“It’s about Artie.” The usual steadiness in Paul’s voice gave way to a tremor, a raw note of fear that Luna had never heard before. His face, usually sun-kissed and reassuring, was now pale, his forehead creased with worry.
“What’s happened?” Luna’s question tumbled out, her composure starting to fracture.
“She’s fallen into a crevice.”
The news hit Luna like a rogue wave. While her mind, honed by years of living with an alcoholic father, snapped into efficient planning, her heart, fragile and exposed, teetered dangerously close to despair.
“Is she—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the awful word that flashed in her mind.
“She’s alive, Luna, that’s all I know.” Paul stepped closer, his presence shifting from betrayer to beacon in this dark storm.
A whirlpool of emotions churned in Luna. The betrayal and hurt she felt toward Paul were distant, secondary to the piercing terror for her daughter. She nodded, her resolve as a mother overshadowing her personal turmoil.
“Take me to her. But Paul . . .” Her voice was steady, but inside she was wrecked. “This isn’t over. Your secrets, everything I’ve just uncovered . . . we’re coming back to this.”
“All right.” He pulled on his jeans and wrestled into his shirt. “Let’s go get your girl.”