Page 30 of Above Cursed Winds

Scoffing, the Raeth turned to Myko, the expression instantly dissolving into one of tender affection. “You did awesome, baby.”

“Jeremiah helped out. Can we have spaghetti tonight?”

Choking down a laugh, Jeremiah helped him up. “Give the spaghetti a break, buddy.”

Myko bounded down the stairs and passed Zia with a sigh. Jeremiah descended far more slowly, keeping eye contact with the radiant woman.

“Multiple people telepathed me today about Myko playing soccer with a red-haired stranger.” She deadpanned, “From all accounts, it sounded as though you were half a second away from strangling him.”

“Reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated.” He returned the volley to her, looking over at where Myko was now shouting at his Mario Kart opponents. “He looks fine to me.”

“I can see that.”

A pregnant pause before Jeremiah spoke again. “I’m headed out.”

“What? Why?”

“Fish and guests smell after three days.”

She shot him a dry look. “You’ve only been here one night.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” Sidestepping around her, he inhaled the sweet fragrance of her tropical scent. “Anyway, I figured I’d give you a night alone with your son. I can scavenge. Maybe I’ll try the pufferfish.”

Zia tried again, “But Myko—he’ll wonder where you are.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Jeremiah was stalling now, and he knew it. But Zia was stalling, too, which was just as interesting. Her teeth bit into that plump lower lip, in a gesture very reminiscent of her son.

“I’m making saimin. Have you ever had it?”

Jeremiah searched his memories for the traditional Hawaiian dish and came up empty. He was at a crossroads: say no and he’d be obligated to try hers, or lie and effectively give himself an out for dinner tonight.

Even before he could weigh his options, his gut tightened. He didn’t truly want to leave; he’d offered it to her as a way to smooth over what must’ve been an imposition.

“Should I be concerned that you’re floating?”

Snapping out of his trance, Jeremiah’s feet hit the ground with an audible thump, his eyes widening at the involuntary loss of control.

“What was that?” Miko’s shout resonated from the other room.

As if on cue, both he and Zia echoed, “Nothing!”

Humor danced across his features as the blushing Raeth turned back towards him, sporting the same expression. They shared a genial chuckle, their soft camaraderie ringing true in the foyer’s elegant confines.

In that moment, he truly noticed how stunning she was. Delicate fingers partially covered her mouth as if to hide the truth of her amusement, the nails painted a sharp black. Her beachy waves, colored to look like an oil slick, cascaded down her back, but framed her features perfectly. Once more, his eye was drawn to the hint of a tattoo peeking out from beneath her shirt collar, the ink just below her collar bone. Everything about Zia was utterly transcendent.

As if hearing her name in his thoughts, those indigo eyes found his. “Stay. Let me feed you. It’s the least I can do, especially after you fixed my cabinets.”

“Nothing more than a lowly handyman, huh,” Jeremiah exaggerated his woe. “Don’t forget the stairs, too.”

“If you’re expecting pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek,” she mockingly warned “I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Scandalous, Z.”

After a brief pause, he followed her into the kitchen, letting Zia cook while he continued to fiddle with the cabinetry, perfecting each and every door so that it’d last for the long haul.

Because Jeremiah certainly wouldn’t.

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