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All this time, she’d thought the danger would come in the form of working with Damian after having to set him straight about the future of their relationship. Instead, she’d be working with Caleb, who posed extreme peril to her very body and soul.
When Aria came in from the diner, Havana hadn’t finished being morose about the impossible quandary she’d splatted into. Her sister didn’t seem to notice. She hummed as she traded her waitress uniform for pajamas and then slipped into bed next to Havana. Who was still fully dressed.
“I’ve decided that Tristan and I will have beautiful children,” Aria announced with a happy sigh. “He’s gorgeous enough for both of us, so surely his genetics will win out. Right? Ooooh, do you think our children will possibly get his blond hair, or am I just dreaming?”
At that, Havana half rolled to take in her sister’s expression, which should not have been so wistful and besotted when surely she was joking. “The color of your children’s hair? That’s the part you’re dreaming about?”
Okay, that could have been delivered with less sarcasm, but Havana was fresh out of tact.
Aria made a face, which shockingly did not mar her dreamy half smile. “I know. I know. I’m far too plain for a man who looks like Tristan Marchande, but it’s fun to imagine that’s not true. For once.”
Havana bit back yet another offer to give Aria a makeover. Tristan may or may not be shallow enough to care, but she didn’t think that was the obstacle here.
Her sist
er was being a phenomenally good sport about a subject that must be pretty painful. An unrequited crush on someone her sister considered unattainable wasn’t a laughing matter. Havana swallowed. What kind of terrible person was she that her big problem of the night lay in a man who wanted too much from her?
“Damian and I aren’t engaged,” she blurted out.
“Oh, honey.” Aria immediately reached out and stroked Havana’s hair because she was an amazing sister. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh. No.” Of course she’d assumed the worst, and Havana scrambled to get the truth out. “We didn’t break up. I was never engaged to him. It was fake. I was being stupid about… well, everything.”
The last thing she needed to admit was that she’d been trying to circumvent Serenity’s prediction—especially when she suspected that what she’d actually done was take the exact right steps to ensure she fulfilled it to the letter. Her own personal variation on the story of Oedipus.
“Fake?” Fascination and confusion warred through Aria’s expression. “Really? That explains so much. So the thing with Caleb is the real deal then.”
“What thing with Caleb? There’s no thing with Caleb,” she countered fiercely. “Why does everyone jump to that conclusion?”
“Because the sparks between you two are strong enough to incinerate those of us around you,” her sister informed her blithely. “We were all waiting for you guys to notice.”
Oh, she’d noticed all right. Just not the part where everyone else had already figured out there was something between them. “That’s the problem. There are a lot of sparks, but I’m not in the market for another fiancé.”
“Another one? You said the engagement to Damian was fake.”
Ugh. Trust her sister to clue in to the slightest word variation. But there was no reason not to come completely clean, not when it was Aria. Her sister had always been her biggest supporter, and frankly, it was a relief to finally tell Aria the truth. Maybe this was the heart-to-heart they’d needed to really connect as sisters again. “I was engaged. For real. To Cole. It… fell apart. I didn’t want anyone to worry.”
Or ask questions Havana couldn’t answer like what happened? If she knew that, she might have been able to prevent it.
Actually, she had a good guess. Cole had complained endlessly that she’d been a bridezilla of the highest order, throwing her weight around with the caterer and with the florist.
Well, she couldn’t help it if the caterer had gotten the menu wrong three times in a row. The man could have written some things down, but no. He’d tried to convince her to let him “surprise” the guests with his own spin on Hill Country cuisine. How about no?
It was her wedding, for crying out loud. Hers and Cole’s, but he hadn’t cared about anything she’d asked him to decide, so she’d handled it all. Gladly. If nothing else, Cole should have gone to bat for her instead of taking the side of people he’d never see again. Was that so much to ask? Sad that Havana’s list of criteria in a perfect man had dwindled to one that knew how to spell loyalty.
“Oh. Well, then I’m sorry for that part.”
Aria’s undertone knifed through her. Her sister was hurt that Havana hadn’t told her in the first place. It was all over her voice and her expression. Havana sighed. “I shouldn’t have lied to everyone. I’m sorry.”
“I guess I don’t understand why you’re telling me all this now.”
That made two of them. “I needed to talk to someone.”
And yet she hadn’t spilled the most important part—how she was falling for Caleb and had no barriers against it. How she had to stop this train before it crashed into a brick wall. How it all felt so big and scary and real that she couldn’t breathe sometimes. But she couldn’t. If she said it out loud, that would make it true.
Aria processed that and finally smiled gently. “You know I’m always here.”
Yes, she was always here. Aria had stayed in Superstition Springs, taking a job at the diner and seemingly happy enough to work for Ruby instead of chasing her own ambitions. It was Havana who had left, treating their friendship like it wasn’t special or as if she had no need to nurture it. Maybe coming home had been a swift kick in the hind end that Havana had needed but not realized.
