"To say the least." She stared at her partially eaten salad. "I thought I was crazy. The moment I turned sixteen, weird stuff started happening and..." She breathed a laugh. "Add the dreams into account, and let's just say I spent a lot of time alone. There was always a feeling, though. A sixth sense that something bigger was in motion, yet I couldn't put my finger on it." She dropped her chin in her hand. "I suppose that's what drew me to ancient religions and, ultimately, Wicca."
"You're a professor? That's what you said, right?"
"Yes, at a college in Iowa. I'm on sabbatical. I teach two courses in the normal curriculum at the moment."
He nodded. "Always wondered where you were from. Wondered a lot of things, actually. Did you know you were adopted? Have any other brothers or sisters?"
"No siblings, and yes, I knew. They didn't hide the adoption." Everything else had been kept a secret but, apparently, not making a point to cover up the fact she wasn't theirs was okay. Bitterness coated her tongue. "They died about a year ago, and their attorney gave me a letter from my birth mother. Thus, here I am."
"Here you are," he repeated solemnly. "I can't even fathom what it must've been like for you. My mother split when we were born and Dad died in a boating accident when we were eight, but I've always had my brothers. And it's not as if we had...powers to learn. With no one there to guide the way, you had to be scared out of your mind."
Tightness banded her chest and her eyes welled. Dreams aside, he'd known her all of two days, yet he understood. Like he'd rooted around inside her head or heart, he got her on a level no one ever had before.
She sucked an uneven breath, blinked back tears, and glanced away from the sympathy in his eyes. "It was terrifying. I dealt." She shrugged like it didn't matter. "I have the answers now."
"Doesn't erase all those years, though." His low, familiar tone held a fragile kindness she couldn't begin to translate. "If it were me, I'd be pissed off that my birth family tossed me away. Greater good or noble intentions aside, that leaves a person with an abandonment complex in the wake. Then, to have supernatural abilities thrust on you, followed by a contrived destiny dropped on your shoulders to boot? Hell, Kaida. You must be a saint to take it all in stride."
Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes. Tears escaped anyway despite her efforts otherwise. Unable to breathe past the ball of emotion in her throat, she made a sound of duress. God, it was as if he'd read the pages of her soul and highlighted the passages of inner turmoil.
Two warm palms cupped her cheeks, and she opened her eyes to find his steady gaze on hers. A mesmerizing mossy green with yellow flecks. He brushed the tears from her cheeks with callused thumbs and leaned across the table to get closer. The scent of rain she always associated with him swirled around her and calmed the chaos.
The gentle caress of his gaze swept her face, and he sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"Nothing I wasn't already thinking."
"Still, I overstepped." He curled one finger under her chin and tentatively smoothed the strands at her temple with the other hand. His eyes followed the movement and then slid back to hers. "Never seen you cry before. Kinda feels like you put my gut in a meat grinder."
She breathed a watery laugh and sniffed. "Sorry. I'll stop." His touch on her skin, however minute, had every nerve in her body hyperaware. It wasn't like when they'd come together in dreams. The potency was almost too much. Warmth flooded her as molecules awakened. Demanded more. Exploded. "Nothing happened."
"What do you mean?"
"Today," she clarified. "You're touching me and nothing happened like the first time."
"I disagree." His lids lowered to half-mast with a seductive flutter of his thick, dark lashes. "Something most definitely is happening."
Well, dang. How did his glasses not fog at that statement?
"I wasn't expecting the connection to carry over. You're as easy to talk to and be around as you were while asleep." And the magnetism was fiercer. As in, she might crawl across the table and do something that would get them both arrested. She'd never been attracted to a man like she was to Brady. Almost as if by no control of her own.
"Ditto." He offered a tight, reluctant smile and eased back into his seat. "Any theories on curse-breaking, professor? By the way, that's sexy as hell. I'm imagining you with a short little skirt and ruler."
Slapping a hand over her face, she laughed. "I have a few ideas. A better plan might be to get all the parties together to hash out our thoughts."
He strummed his fingers on the formica. "Your sisters don't trust my brothers and vice versa. Kidnapping might have to be involved."
"I suspect we won't succeed if we don't tear down some barriers." She hummed in her throat. "Baby steps." Something he'd said before flittered to mind. "Who raised you after your father died?"
"Our uncle, who's a total creep. He left when we were nineteen. The ink was barely dry on claiming our inheritance. He's in the UK somewhere being the CEO of our other hotels. Tristan runs the one here."
She tilted her head. "What does Riley do?"
"When he's not charming everything with breasts into bed, he heads the island's tourism board."
Laughing at his dry tone, she took a sip of her cappuccino. "And Six Fates Island's historian? What's his job entail? By the way," she joked, repeating his sentiment, "that's sexy as hell."
He grinned, all adorable amusement. "History is sexy. I mostly oversee remodeling projects to ensure preservation of original design elements, make sure the past isn't totally lost. I also authenticate documents, help the school with social studies' curriculums, keep tabs on the museum, that kind of thing."
"That is the coolest job ever." She leaned forward. "To walk amid the past and know who stepped there first. It's one thing to read about history, but you get to have your hands in the details."
"Riley was right. We are too similar." He chuckled. "It is a cool job, but you and I might be the only ones who think so. You know, I've got a meeting tomorrow with contractors to begin repairs on Galloway Lighthouse. Once plans are drawn up, I need to chat with your sisters for approval. You should come. I have access to the non-public areas." He wiggled his brows.
"Be still my heart. You're on. What time?"
"Meet me at the library at ten. My office is there. Do you know how to find it?"
She set her empty cup off to the side and nodded. "I passed the library a couple days ago when the ferry docked."
"I know." His voice dipped to a low rumble. "I saw you through the window and about fell out of my chair. Well, I was standing, but you get the gist. I thought I was hallucinating and actually chased you outside, except you were gone."
"Really?" That explained why he'd seemed less shocked to see her than the other way around in the clearing. "I might've died if I'd spotted you on the street."
"Nearly did." He glanced at his watch. "I have to go. Tomorrow, then?"
"Tomorrow. In the mean time, I'll try to talk Ceara and Fiona into having another meeting with your brothers. Perhaps we can thaw some of the ice between our families." She stood and smoothed her slacks.
Rising, too, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "That would require an ice pick the size of Delaware, but I'll do the same with Tristan and Riley."
He led the way outside and held the door for her. Once they were on the sidewalk out of foot traffic, he offered a forced smile. "Dream of me?"
"Not so sure about that. Now that we've met, we might not anymore."
"Pity." He turned to go, but whirled back around. He stared at her a few beats, his jaw ticking. "There it is again, that feeling like I can't walk away from you."
At least she wasn't the only one with a sliver of panic weaving through her bloodstream. "We should exchange numbers."
"Good plan." He extracted a cell from his pocket, passing it to her.
She dug in her purse and did the same. Entering her number and email into his contacts, she hit Save and returned his phone.
They stood there, staring at one another, and she swore the air crackled between them. Wind chimes tinkled from a nearby storefront and the lull of conversations from passersby receded to white noise.
Chewing her lip, she waved. "Bye."
"Yeah, okay." He pivoted on his heel and took two steps away, only to abruptly stop and face her once more. "Screw this. Come here."
He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her halfway up his body in an embrace so tight her lungs collapsed. Resting his cheek to hers, he held the back of her head like he was frightened she'd disappear into the ether.
Heaven. Arms around his neck, she fisted his tee, bunching the material at his shoulders. Being pressed against his solid, corded muscles awakened the desire she'd forever had for him and sent it careening into the stratosphere. Amped, she trembled, breathing in his scent of warm male and rain. Her world tilted and righted and crashed anew in the course of a blink.
"Been dying to do that for three days," he grated, his hot breath shifting her hair. The rasp of his whiskers was deliciously rough against her skin. "Hell, I've been wanting to hold you more than half my life."
She slammed her eyes shut, her heart on the brink of breaking. "Me, too."
His arms clenched. "I really have to get back to work or the construction crew on the courthouse is going replace the porticos with columns and give me an aneurism. Here's the plan. In three seconds, I'm going to release you, and you're going to hightail it to your sisters' shop so I have no choice but to leave. Understand?"
Rolling her lips over her teeth, she nodded. "Got it."
"Good. Three, two, one..." He set her on her feet and smoothed her hair from her face. "Go, Kaida. Now."
A laugh, and she turned. Walking the short distance, she giddily opened the door to Bedknobs & Broomsticks. Once inside, she leaned against the frame, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.
"Ruh roh." Fiona, perched on the settee like a queen, popped a gummy bear in her mouth. "Looks like someone's under a spell."
Ceara set her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands. "I didn't cast one."
No, Kaida figured Brady had some magick of his own. She opened her mouth to say something, but her phone dinged an incoming text. Digging in her purse, she found the cell and did a double-take at the screen.
Instead of programming his name into her contacts, Brady had typed "Man of My Dreams." And his message?
Is it tomorrow yet?
Cradling her forehead in her hand, she swooned. "I'm in so much trouble."