Page 41 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

Lingering doubt was drawn away at the same moment, Alistair put his hand on the side of her neck, his long fingers rubbing her nape as he lowered his head. “Is it me? Do you want me to leave?”

“Don’t go,” she said, turning her head into his shoulder and letting the energy that had been swirling around them before come back.

Alistair wasn’t the only reason for the fear deep in her heart. Yes he’d hurt her. But now the truth seemed blindingly obvious. She’d expected him to betray her from the moment he asked her to marry him. By never believing she was enough for him, by twisting herself into what she thought he wanted. Their marriage hadn’t stood a chance.

Leaning against Alistair, feeling his strong body holding hers, he supported her. Gave her the space to sort out the mental chaos that swept in from the magic of this night, this day.

The power of the solstices and the equinoxes always affected her and brought clarity, helping her to move forward. Normally, she had her soul sisters at her side to ground her and keep her focused. Tonight there was just Ali and the moon.

“Let’s go up. Sorry for that. The energy here is so intense.”

“I feel it too. I read that the Tor is built on a ley line. They have powerful energy,” he said.

Alistair seemed to be affected by the energy here as well. She pulled away from him and picked up her pack. “When did you read up on it?”

“As soon as you agreed to come to England with me. I knew this time had to be different than when we were here together before,” he said.

“Are you trying to win me over for any reason other than myself?” she asked.

There was a part of her that felt the censure of the Goddess as she asked the question. She had to stop looking for signs and then ignoring them.

But that was a hard habit to break.

Alistair was figuring out what to say, so she shook her head. “Don’t answer that. Either I believe you’ve changed from the man who hurt me or I don’t. I can’t keep asking you to prove it to me.”

“Poppy—”

“No, it’s okay. Let’s make a last push and get to the top. I brought some fairy cakes and tea for us to have up there.”

When they got to the top, they could see for miles and miles. Poppy led him to a spot near the crest of the hill, took another scarf from her backpack and spread it on the ground. She’d told him she wanted to watch the sunset at 9:16 p.m., and then she wanted to watch the moon rise.

“What’s special about the moon at the solstice?” he asked her as he filled two picnic champagne flutes from the small twist-top bottles of prosecco he’d carried in his bag.

Poppy tucked a long curly strand of hair behind her ear as she pulled out the fairy cakes she’d mentioned, as well as two salads they’d picked up in town. She handed one to him. “June is a time of heady power, and its moon is the moon of horses. Tomorrow night is the full moon, so that’s when the power will be highest, but we’ll be at Gemma’s wedding... I might try to step out to see it.”

He’d be at her side. This feeling stirring inside of him was the answer to the emptiness that had been eating a hole in his soul for so long. He liked the feeling. He liked sharing it with her.

There were still so many unspoken things between them, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever have the courage to speak them out loud. “What does the moon of horses mean?”

That tinkling sound of her laughter rang out and wrapped around him like the warm breeze that blew strongly up there. It stirred him, body and soul. Being this close to her was beating at the walls of his resolution to keep his distance. To respect her desire for this phase of the relationship to stay platonic.

Right now, as she talked to him quietly on the highest point in Glastonbury, he was struggling. He wanted to sit behind her and pull her back against his chest. Let his hands caress her body while she wove her fairy magic all around him.

It took all his willpower to resist. That breeze carried the scent of her perfume, and he closed his eyes in a bid to win control over the lust that was rising in him as she softly told him about the moon. Maybe this was how they were meant to be. This pain, a wedge between them that their bodies didn’t seem to want to acknowledge.

“This moon is about breaking free from whatever holds you down,” she said. “I think it’s a portent before meeting with your family tomorrow. I wanted to come up here to step fully into my strength and my power.”

Breaking free.

There hadn’t been a day in the past eighteen months that he hadn’t tried to undo the bands of anger and doubt and fear—and more anger—that had been wrapped around him. Trapping him in a bent-and-bound position that he could never untangle himself from.

“You always have power over me,” he said.

“Always?”

“Even now.”

“Sexually, right?”

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