A quiet laugh escapes me, though it’s laced with sympathy. “The entire town saw or later heard about your attempt.”
He closes his eyes, exhaling. “Perfect.”
I rest my hand over his. “They don’t think less of you for it. They’re just entertained. Evershift Haven loves a spectacle.”
He drags a fingertip across the blanket, nodding. “I’m starting to see that.” His gaze turns more solemn. “I might have judged them...and you...too harshly.”
I press my lips together. “People here can be overwhelming. They keep pushing fate and romance and illusions. Hard to breathe under that pressure, especially if you never believed in magic to begin with.”
He studies my face. His expression softens. “It’s not just the town that’s overwhelming.”
My heart pounds. I dip my chin, uncertain if I want to face the words forming between us. “What do you mean?”
He shifts, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. “You. This connection. It’s unsettling how fast it’s happening. My brain keeps screaming that it’s illusions or the festival’s matchmaking. Something about you isn’t easy to ignore.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “It’s not illusions. I’m not that powerful.”
He looks unconvinced. “You’re a vampire. Magical is your middle name.”
“Vampires in this town are just another species with certain...traits, but I can’t conjure illusions like that. I can’t force you to feel anything.” My voice quavers. “I wouldn’t even if I could.”
He looks down at our joined hands, and a corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. Sorry.” I’m not used to feeling so out of control.”
A swirl of tenderness wraps around my chest. “I get that. I keep my guard up because it’s easier than letting people in. Mortals come and go so quickly. I’d rather not break my heart every time.”
He lifts his eyes. “So, you push them away.”
I nod, gaze drifting to the half-burned candle. “That’s safer. Or it was, until you waltzed in with your van and your scowl.”
A faint laugh escapes him. “I scowl less when I’m not trapped by magical roads.”
We share a smile. The hush returns, though it’s no longer tense. Something softer has taken its place. I sense the spool of tension unraveling in the flicker of candlelight, opening a path we’ve both skirted around.
I shift onto my knees, bracing a hand on his shoulder. “Declan?”
He lifts his head. “Yeah?”
Words stick in my throat. My pulse thrums, but I can’t break eye contact. “I... Sorry if I teased you too hard. That day you arrived, I saw how flustered you were. I thought messing with you was fun. Didn’t think it would matter. Then we started talking, and you...matter more than I expected.”
His jaw tightens. He sets both hands on my waist. The heat of his palms seeps through my clothes, stoking a low ache in my belly. “I should hate this place. I should hate everything about being stranded, but I don’t. Not anymore.”
My lips part. The tension in his voice and softness in his eyes collides in a wave of longing. We hover like that, locked in each other’s gaze. A swirl of leftover festival magic crackles in the air, though I can’t tell if it’s real or just my own pounding heart.
He exhales, then leans in with slow deliberation. Our mouths meet in a gentle brush that sets every nerve in my body aflame. I press closer, breath catching. His lips part. The taste of chocolate and coffee from earlier still lingers. A faint groan rumbles in his throat, and I answer with a quiet sigh. The kiss deepens in gradual, tender motions, as though we’re both unsure how far we dare go.
He moves one hand up my back, fingers splaying across my spine. My body arches involuntarily, seeking contact. My breath hitches in surprise at how perfectly we fit together. Each time he tilts his head, the angle sends a fresh spark through me. Thewarm hush around us magnifies every small sound—our shared breathing, the faint rustle of clothes, the flicker of candlelight.
I shift my weight, sinking into his lap. His arms close around me, steady and sure, and my heart slams against my ribs. This is real. Not illusions, not forced. My lips move against his in a slow, desperate dance. He breaks away for a moment, breathing hard, eyes glimmering.
“You’re sure about this?” His voice drops, husky enough to stir the ache pooling in my belly.
A shaky nod is all I manage. “Yes.”
His mouth claims mine again, more urgent now, and I melt into him. Every touch burns like fire, but I want more. Need more. I run my hands over his broad shoulders, savoring the feel of muscle beneath fabric. When I reach the collar of his henley, I tug at the buttons, fumbling in my haste. He chuckles softly, pulling away long enough to help me undo them. Then he shrugs out of the garment, letting it fall to the floor.
The sight of bare skin, a few degrees warmer than mine, makes my pulse race. I trace my fingertips along his chest, exploring each ridge and valley. He inhales sharply, tensing under my touch. I lean forward and kiss him again. He responds with equal fervor, tongue sweeping past my parted lips. One hand slides up my neck, cupping the base of my skull. The other slips under my shirt, calloused palm rough against my stomach. I squirm, gasping.
Heat floods my veins. My whole body feels electrified. I break off our kiss to pull my top off. His gaze rakes over me, hungry and appreciative. Before I can react, he dips his head to nuzzle my breastbone. “Declan, I—”