Page 24 of Bewitched By the Siren (The Bewitching Hour #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hali

Memories of my time in Brendan’s bed yesterday circle through my mind as I sit on the couch, sipping some juice, my free hand fiddling with my shell pendant. I didn’t want to open myself up to him, but looking back now, I can see it was inevitable.

I like him. A lot.

And even thought the logical side of my brain knows why he’s here and that it’s only temporary, the romantic, flighty side can’t stop dreaming of some sort of future with him in it. I’ve never felt this way, before. I’ve never held onto this kind of hope.

But what hope is there, really? Even if Brendan were to give everything up to stay here with me––which is a pipe dream, really––I could never make it work with him. Honesty is the foundation of any successful relationship, and that’s the one thing I can’t give him.

I can’t be honest about my true nature. At least, not any time soon. It would take years of trust to lead up to that revelation, years that I’d be lying and breaking his trust in the meantime. Plus, how would I even hide it if I wanted to?

No. It’s an impossible situation.

I snap out of my thoughts when Denny rolls Mom into the living room. Plastering on a wide smile, I thank him after he says goodbye to her, then watch as he leaves through the front door. When I look back at Mom, she’s staring at me with a knowing look in her eyes and a half-smile.

“What?” I ask, then avert my gaze and hide behind taking a long gulp of my drink.

“You like him.”

“Denny?” I ask, hedging. “Of course, I do. He’s a cool guy.”

“Hali.”

I flinch at her impatient tone, then blow out a long breath. “Yes, I like him.”

There’s no use denying that I know exactly of whom she’s speaking. Or denying that she’s right. She knows me too well.

“It doesn’t matter, though,” I add quickly. “He’ll be leaving soon, and I’ll never see him again. It’s better this way.”

“Why is it better? I don’t want you to be alone,” she says, the strength in her voice fading.

“I’m not alone. I have you,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t know how much longer I have,” she murmurs.

“Mom. Stop.”

I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to think about it.

“Hali, you know it’s true. Even if I wasn’t sick, I’m an old woman. I won’t be around forever. And when I’m gone, you’ll be all alone. I can’t rest, knowing that. You’re going to have to allow yourself to trust someone else, eventually.”

“I’m scared,” I mumble, and she rolls her chair close enough to rest a palm on my knee.

“I know you are, honey. And I’m not saying you should blurt the whole truth to someone you met a few days ago.

I just want you to be open to the possibility of trusting him.

And if it doesn’t work out with him, find someone else.

Make friends. Find love. Live a full life.

I want that for you, honey. I want it so much. ”

“I love you, Mom,” I say, the emotional hitch evident in my voice.

“I love you, too.”

Setting my coffee cup down, I lean forward and wrap my arms around her frail body. She hugs me back, whispering words of encouragement into my ear. Hopes that I’ll lead a full life. Dreams of me making the world my oyster.

We break apart when my phone chimes, and I brush the moisture from my eyes as I pull up the text message.

“It’s Brendan,” I say. “He’s asking if I can spare a few hours for him this morning.”

“Go,” she says, wheeling her chair back a foot. “I’ll be fine. Denny’s coming back to take me to my doctor’s appointment in an hour.”

“You have an appointment? I should go with you,” I say, but she’s already shaking her head.

“It’s just a scan, and I won’t get any results until next week, anyway. There’s no reason for you to go. Now, get up and get dressed. Don’t keep that gorgeous man waiting.”

I do as she says, and once I’m ready, I hug Mom goodbye and head over to Brendan’s. He answers my knock with a warm smile, then pulls me into a tight hug before taking a step back.

“Get in the car. Let’s go,” he says, pulling the rental’s door shut behind him and punching some numbers into the keypad to lock it.

“Where are we going?” I ask, following him toward the car.

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a mischievous grin as he opens the door for me.

“Will you give me a hint?” I ask after he joins me in the car, and he shakes his head.

“Patience, little songbird,” he says, his smile wide as he starts the engine and pulls out onto the road.

I stare at his profile for several long beats, mentally willing him to tell me, but he just continues to smile and keep his eyes firmly on the road in front of us until I give up and lean back in my seat.

Once we leave the island, it becomes clear he’s taking us to Savannah, but for what purpose, I have no idea.

Our conversation is easy and comforting along the way. We talk about the landmarks we pass, and I give Brendan a little history lesson on the area. He doesn’t look bored for even a second, a fact that makes me smile to myself as I stare out my window at the marshy landscape.

“I suppose you’ve figured out we’re going to Savannah?” he asks, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

I look over at him with a laugh. “Yeah, about ten minutes into the drive.”

“Okay, Smarty,” he grins, “where, exactly do you think we’re going?”

“The aquarium?” I ask, tilting my head to study him.

His face falls. “That’s…actually…a great idea. Next time.”

The slight sting of disappointment mixed with happy anticipation at that “next time” is a strange mix of emotions. I was convinced he was taking me there since he knows how much I love sea life, and now that I know I was wrong, my curiosity is eating me alive.

“Just give me a hint,” I beg, and he laughs and shakes his head.

“Patience––”

“Little songbird, I know. I know,” I grump, but there’s no real impatience in the words.

I just feel…happy. Happy to be here. With Brendan.

A short while after we hit the city limits of Savannah, Brendan pulls into the drive of a large mansion. I open my mouth to question where we are and what we’re doing here, but he holds up a finger to silence me as he lowers his window and speaks into the mounted callbox.

“Hey, Brendan. Come on in,” a female voice says, and the gates slowly slide open.

“Who was that?” I ask as he rolls up his window and releases the brake to move forward through the gate.

“That was––”

“Holy shit. Is that Natasha Monk?” I shout, cutting him off when I spot the woman walk out onto the large front stoop to wait for us.

“Surprise,” he says, waving through the windshield at her as the car rolls to a stop.

“You know Natasha Monk,” I say, disbelief lacing the words.

He turns in his seat to face me. “You do know I’m a talent agent, right? I know a lot of people.”

“But…”

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “She’s one of Julius’ clients. I’ve met her several times, and when I told her I was in Circe Key to scout a new possible client, she insisted we come to see her.”

“I cover her songs at the bar all the time,” I say, a bit breathless.

“Well, let’s not keep her waiting,” he says, then goes still. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, then more firmly, “Yeah. Of course. She’s just a person, right?”

“Right,” he says with a laugh, then lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

Natasha greets us with warm hugs when we approach, and her easy demeanor instantly calms my frayed nerves.

Taking us inside, she offers us drinks before leading the way down a set of stairs.

I look at Brendan with questioning eyes, but he only grins and shakes his head, still refusing to tell me what’s going on.

When we spill out into a beautifully finished basement, I freeze, my eyes locked on what looks like a professional recording studio. Turning, I meet Brendan’s gaze.

“What is this?”

“It’s not an ambush, I promise,” he says quickly, taking my hands in his when he realizes I’m reacting how he thought I would.

“Natasha records all of her albums here, and she offered to let you use it. I just thought you might want to make a recording for your Mom, since she can’t get out to see you perform live.

And for yourself, too, so you can hear how amazing you are. ”

Natasha moves away from us to give us a modicum of privacy. I watch as she fiddles with some of the knobs and levers on the control board, my mind reeling.

“Hey,” Brendan says, squeezing my hands. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I thought it would something you’d enjoy, but if not, we can leave right now.”

I search his gaze, and there’s no anger or disappointment in their blue depths. Only concern mixed with affection.

“It would be just for me and Mom?” I ask.

“I promise. You’ll get a copy, and Natasha will delete the files from her equipment, completely. This is just for you.”

A kernel of excitement blooms in my chest, and I look over at Natasha. She shoots me an encouraging smile, making the kernel grow. When I glance back at Brendan, he doesn’t speak or try to talk me into it again. He just waits with patience and understanding, happy to do whatever will make me happy.

“Okay,” I breathe, then I square my shoulders and nod. “Let’s do it.”