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“Because,” she said quietly, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what came next. “Damian’s investors won’t let him build the resort with the town still standing. It was part of the deal. I talk the people into selling, and I get the shopping center project. If I fail, there’s no resort or a shopping center.”
As the complexities sank in, a wave of righteous indignation spiked through his gut.
“They don’t want an ‘eyesore’ so close to their million-dollar property, is that it?” he asked bluntly. He shouldn’t be surprised or even care so much. But come on. Those investors needed to catch a clue that there was something special about Superstition Springs that would be a huge benefit to their bottom line.
“I don’t know their motivation,” she hedged. “Only what Damian and I agreed to.”
“Reconsider. The town has some quirks, I’ll give you that. But the people have a lot to offer. You have to admit there’s a certain feel to this area that might be interesting to capitalize on.” At that, she wrinkled her nose. “You’re not into the superstition part of the springs I take it?”
He would have put himself in the same camp thirty minutes ago. Now he wasn’t so sure.
She shook her head with a small smile. “Mysticism? No thanks. A, it’s not real. And B, I like knowing I have control over everything that happens to me.”
“Ah, but that’s the trick, right? Control is just an illusion.”
As he’d learned in full, vivid detail recently. Caleb and his strike team had become an embarrassment to the Navy. A PR nightmare that was easier to sweep under the rug than to do right by, and he’d had zero power to affect their decision to discharge all five of them.
What was he doing if not trying to take back some control in his own life?
“And surrendering your fate to the whims of gods isn’t an illusion?” The smirk on her face was her own answer to that. “I’ll believe in myself thank you very much. Since we’re airing all the dirty laundry here, what happened to you that makes you so hot to plunk down in the middle of my town and cause me trouble?”
He had to laugh, even as he realized he couldn’t stop liking Havana Nixon if he tried. She didn’t quit. It was as sexy as it was infuriating. “I needed a hobby.”
“Try again.”
Her arched brow had so much attitude he had an inexplicable urge to kiss it away.
“There was a little mix-up with Uncle Sam, and we opted to part ways.”
The details weren’t classified, but some laundry didn’t need to be aired. Though he couldn’t quite figure out why he’d felt compelled to share that much.
“And yet here you are as well, in Superstition Springs at the same moment as me. Not what either of us expected to be the next chapter in our lives, I suppose, but it seems as if we’re both determined to make it work.”
The reality of that unsettled him. She’d nailed it. He didn’t know how he felt about her canny insight. Did she share Serenity’s ability to tap into the universe for clues about what went on in a man’s soul? Or had it been a lucky guess?
Serenity’s prediction took on a whole new dimension, and as much as he’d like to ignore the romantic nature of it, he couldn’t. She’d plainly stated he’d meet his soul mate during the process of replanting of his roots. Surely her already-engaged niece hadn’t been the woman she’d had in mind. Especially not given how much tension there was between Serenity and Havana. That alone gave Caleb enough pause. If she wasn’t right with her aunt, then she wasn’t right with him. Havana couldn’t be his soul mate. It was unthinkable.
Flirting with her on the balcony had been one thing. A tactic designed to knock her off-balance. This was something different. A shared connection that went far deeper than surface-level attraction. The springs had cast some kind of spell on him, and that wasn’t going to fly. He had to break up the coziness that they’d fallen into far too easily.
“The thing is,” he said. “I’m here to help Serenity save her town. You and I are at cross-purposes on how to do that. How do you suggest we proceed??
?
“May the best woman win?” She smiled coyly, causing him to wonder what tricks she had up her sleeve that she hadn’t revealed yet. “Or man. Though I’m pretty sure I was right the first time.”
That only whetted his appetite to beat her at this game. “You’re on.”
And somehow that shifted everything. He’d needed that push to set him on the right track. The key to getting over his hesitance wasn’t to blunder around looking for answers written on the wind. It was to surge ahead with one hundred percent commitment until he got where he was going. Or hit a brick wall.
That’s when he’d call on his team. The guys would band together to get everyone over the wall. Blow it up. Tunnel under it. Take it apart brick by brick until there was a clear path. A couple of times, one of them had led him to a completely different path that required none of the above. That’s why they were all still alive, still watching each other’s backs. Rowe was the brother of his blood, and Hudson, Tristan, and Isaiah were brothers of his heart.
Together, they could do anything. Except stay in the Navy.
He would not fail them this time. There was no room for second-guessing his next steps, a default he’d fallen into after Syria. His guys needed sanctuary, and Caleb would give it to them or die trying.
Eight
Aria chattered until the clock flipped over to a.m., and that’s when Havana stopped paying attention to the time. Her sister must have saved up or something and chosen tonight to unload a year’s worth of words.
