Page 26 of Demon Loved (The Witches of Mingus Mountain #5)

A gardener, huh? Bree hadn’t really imagined that hobby for him, but she had to admit it was a useful and interesting one.

She’d always helped her mother in the garden at home, and actually missed being there to deadhead the roses and pull weeds now that she was living at the apartment.

Sure, she had some houseplants to tend and a planter with flowers on the balcony, but it wasn’t exactly the same thing.

“You have a big yard?” she asked as they began to make their way along the trail.

Here at the starting point, it was only a path that cut through sycamores and cottonwoods and pines, but soon enough, they began to wind their way along the bank of Oak Creek, and the red rock canyon walls grew closer, nearly overhanging the water in some places.

“Big enough,” he said. “Anyway, there’s something peaceful about working with plants. It’s good to watch them grow and flourish.”

Not for the first time, Brianna reflected that Bill Garrett was quite an unusual guy. No flaunting of his wealth, no pretense, just someone who’d been lucky enough to inherit a bunch of money but wasn’t about to let it change him into something he wasn’t.

“My mother would love to hear that,” she remarked. “She’s always puttering around in the garden.”

And then Bree wondered if that had been entirely the wrong thing to say.

After all, Bill hadn’t met her parents, and there was no reason for him to.

You didn’t introduce a guy you were seeing to your parents until things were pretty serious, and she knew the situation with him was anything but that.

Or…maybe it was serious, in some strange way, but not in the way most people would probably think.

But then he startled her by saying, “Your parents seem very nice.”

She came to a stop then and stared up at him in surprise. “You met them?”

“I did,” he said, looking singularly unperturbed. “That is, I didn’t know they were your parents at first. We bumped into each other while we were watching you play at the folk festival.”

All right, that explanation made a little more sense. The crowd had been big, but it wasn’t so big that you might not run into someone you knew…or someone that a person you knew was acquainted with. And her parents would have done their best to be near the stage, just as Bill probably had.

She hadn’t seen them standing near each other, but that didn’t mean much. The crowd had been one big blur to her, probably her mind’s way of trying to prevent her from paying attention to any single person’s reaction to her performance.

Still….

“Why didn’t you tell me you met them?” she asked, and now he looked a little confused.

“I suppose I didn’t think it was all that important,” he replied. “We spoke a little, but mostly, we were just listening to you play and sing. And afterward, I headed off to Vino Zona because I thought you might like a drink as a way to decompress. Was that wrong?”

No, it wasn’t. He’d known exactly what she needed, and she had a feeling that if he’d brought up how he’d seen her parents in the crowd, she would have tensed up again, wondering if she should ask him what they’d thought or whether she should dismiss the encounter.

Really, this was a silly thing to get worked up over. He’d told her now, when the stakes were a lot lower, so she should probably just let it go.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Maybe even a little funny that you were standing near them out of all the people in that crowd.”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” He slid the backpack off his shoulder, unzipped it, and then pulled out a bottle of water. “Do you want some?”

They’d only gone about a half mile, but she was still a little thirsty. “Sure.”

He handed it over to her, and she drank about a quarter of the bottle before giving it back.

“You can open a fresh one,” she told him, since he was now looking a little hesitant.

“That would be wasteful, wouldn’t it?”

And he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank a bit more than she had.

Well, at least now you know he isn’t worried about swapping spit with you, ran through her mind.

She brushed away the thought as best she could. Sharing a bottle was one thing.

Sharing a kiss?

That was something else altogether.

No point in shaking her head at herself, not when Bill had already returned the half-drunk bottle to the backpack and replaced it on his shoulders.

They set out again, with her keeping to the same leisurely pace.

She didn’t have any real intention of doing the entire fourteen-mile hike, not when they’d have to wade in the creek at some point to keep going, so there was no reason to push themselves.

This was all about getting out in nature and enjoying the sights, and sticking with the easy but still scenic part of the route, which was just a little over three miles.

He seemed content to be quiet and pay attention to the nature all around them, and she was grateful for that.

Of course she liked talking to him — he was easier to talk to than any other man she’d ever known — but when she was out on a hike like this, she wanted to pay attention to her surroundings.

They could save the conversation for drinks afterward, or dinner, or whatever they decided to do.

If anything at all. He hadn’t said anything about that on the drive here, so maybe he was expecting to just head back to Jerome after they were done with their hike and call it a day.

She sure hoped not, though.

Up ahead was one of her favorite spots, a sort of natural shelf that jutted into the creek and was a perfect place to stop and maybe dangle their feet in the water.

Although the air was cooler here, the steady uphill climb had warmed her enough that she thought it might be good to peel off her socks and hiking boots and give her a chance to cool down.

When she mentioned the idea to Bill, he seemed just fine with it, so after they reached the spot in question, she stopped and took off her purse backpack, then bent down to unlace her hiking boots and remove them, and finally her socks.

He followed suit, and soon they were both sitting on the ledge, their feet dangling in the water.

It was quite cold — it always was, even at the height of summer, since the creek was fed by snow melt from the San Francisco Peaks in Flagstaff — but it was also refreshing, even though she knew she couldn’t sit here like this forever.

“It feels so far away from the rest of the world here,” he said.

“Well, we’re almost a mile off the highway now, so it’s hard to hear much of anything.”

Only the soft whisper of the breeze in the leaves, and the murmur of the creek, and the happy songs of the birds in the trees. Far overhead, a dark shape in the sky might have been a hawk or even an eagle, but it was too high for Bree to be able to tell for sure.

“I like that about this part of the world,” Bill commented. He’d also lifted his head to the sky, as though he’d spotted the hawk as well. “There are plenty of people, but it’s not difficult to find a place where you can be alone with your thoughts.”

She shifted a little on the rock, just enough so she could see him better instead of looking directly at the creek. His expression was thoughtful, but because he still wore his sunglasses, she had a harder time guessing exactly what he might be thinking.

“Yes, I suppose it’s harder to be alone in L.A.”

He didn’t answer at once. Bree thought she saw his jaw tighten, but she wasn’t quite sure what to make of that response.

When he spoke, his words were unexpected.

“It’s always difficult when you don’t want to listen to what those thoughts are trying to tell you.”

She wasn’t sure how to reply to such a remark. As far as she could tell, he was being completely honest with her, so saying something lighthearted didn’t feel right.

“Maybe they were telling you that you needed to get away.”

Now his mouth curved just a little, although she still couldn’t call the expression he wore a smile.

“And I did get away,” he said. “I got away to Jerome…and I found you.”

His voice was quiet, but she couldn’t mistake the intensity of his tone.

At a loss, she sat there, toes still dipping into the cold water, a cardinal somewhere off in the distance singing out its distinctive chip chip chip, followed by a small trill.

She wanted to tell Bill how glad she was that they’d found each other, but even though she had no problem spilling the contents of her thoughts into her songs, her tongue felt somehow tied when it came to saying those sorts of things out loud.

Then he shifted his position just enough so he could reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pull out a small box. “I got you something,” he said.

Everything about her seemed to freeze. Then the rational side of her brain took over, and she realized that wasn’t a ring box he was holding, but one that was much flatter, the kind of thing you might use for a pendant or maybe a pair of earrings.

Her heart began beating again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said calmly. “But I wanted to.”

And he handed the box to her.

It wasn’t very heavy. Her fingers closed around it, even as her brain registered that this kind of brown recycled paper box was the kind they used at McAllister Mercantile.

Plus probably a million other stores, her brain added, but she had a feeling her first instinct had been correct, if for no other reason than Bill didn’t seem to want to go very far afield unless she was playing chauffeur.

Sitting there and holding it for too long would have been impossibly awkward. So she swallowed and opened the little box.

Lying inside was a silver pendant set with a greenish-blue, heavily veined stone surrounded by a framework of dark blue topaz and small rose-cut diamonds.

Bree recognized the piece at once, mostly because she’d been coveting the thing ever since she first saw it in the display case at McAllister Mercantile.

It was Angela’s work, and fairly priced for what it was, but she hadn’t been able to justify the cost when she already had plenty of jewelry.

“It’s — it’s beautiful,” she said, and something about Bill’s posture seemed to relax a little.

“You like it? When I saw it earlier today, something about it reminded me of you.”

Shades of blue and green, just like they’d discussed a few days earlier.

The London blue topaz had the faintest greenish undertone, making it an interesting but also perfect companion to the center variscite.

Angela did a lot of that, pairing stones that at first you might not have imagined together but then couldn’t see any other way.

“I love it,” Bree said. “And I’d put it on right now, but it’s probably safer in the box.”

“It didn’t come with a chain anyway,” Bill responded, now practical. “You wouldn’t have had anything to hang it on.”

Well, that was true. She probably had a cord stashed somewhere in her backpack because she always carried stuff like that around just in case, but better to wait until she could put it on a real chain, or maybe one of the thin leather cords with silver clasps she tended to prefer for hanging her pendants.

She carefully closed the box and then secured it in one of the inner pockets of her purse, zipping it tight so there was no chance of her present going anywhere. Then she turned back to him.

“Thank you, Bill. That was…super thoughtful.”

While she was messing with her backpack, he must have taken off his sunglasses, because now his eyes met hers, intensely green, reflecting the hues of the leaves overhead.

“I’m always thinking of you,” he said simply.

Did he lean in first, or was she the one who moved closer to him? She couldn’t say for sure. All she knew was that in the next moment, their lips were touching. His arms went around her, stronger than she’d expected despite the muscles his T-shirt revealed.

Time seemed to stop, or at the very least, the world went on around them while Bree thought she and Bill must have been suspended somewhere outside it, in a perfect moment when nothing mattered except the sensation of his mouth against hers, a certain sweetness to his taste that might have been from the water they’d drunk a while earlier.

Or maybe that was just him.

The kiss went on and on, her entire body thrilling at the embrace, all honey and gold, but at last, he let go. His gaze met hers, worried.

“Should I have done that? I thought — ”

She needed to let him know that yes, it was exactly what he should have done, so she pulled him close again and kissed him, kissed him hard, hoping that he could sense the passion in her touch, the need…the belief that this was the perfect thing for both of them.

It seemed she got through, because when they pulled apart again, that delicious mouth of his had lifted at the corners.

“I see you’re all right with this.”

“More than all right,” she said frankly. “If I’m going to be perfectly honest about it, I’ve been thinking about kissing you for the past couple of days. But I wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted, not when….”

The words trailed off. She had the feeling that if she uttered them out loud, then she’d make that part of their situation far too real.

Not when you’ll have to go back to L.A. at some point.

His hand found hers, and he squeezed it gently.

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” he said. “I’ll be here through the end of the week, and then — ”

“And then what?” she broke in. Maybe that was rude of her, but she needed to have some idea of where she stood.

“And then we’ll decide what to do next.” He paused there, his eyes locking on her face as if he hoped the mere intensity of his gaze would be enough to show her that he didn’t plan on going anywhere.

It wasn’t a promise to stay here forever. Then again, it also wasn’t a statement that he planned to get on the next plane headed for L.A.

Bree wasn’t going to push things.

Not when she knew she’d found the only man in the world for her.

She also gave his fingers a squeeze, then let go and pushed herself to her feet. During their kiss, she’d pulled them from the water, so they were damp but not dripping wet and probably ready for her to put her socks and hiking boots back on.

“Okay,” she said clearly. “Now, let’s go finish our hike.”