Page 26 of Roaring Heat
We slide into a booth near the window. The waitress, a silver-haired woman with sharp eyes and no name tag, moves with a brisk efficiency as she sets down two steaming mugs and a laminated menu.
Her gaze lingers on me for half a beat too long before she says, "Morning, Beau. We’ve all been curious as to how close you two may have gotten. Your brothers know?"
"I suspect if they didn't when we parked, they do by now. And all of you better get used to it Anabeth is here to stay." He leans over to me and in a pseudo whisper adds, "News travels fast in a small town.
The waitress snorts. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Why don't you bring us a couple of western omelets with home fries and a biscuit." He looks at me. "All right with you?"
I nod as the waitress writes it down, Once she’s gone, I sigh. "Your brothers know? Is that going to be a problem? Here to stay, huh? That a prophecy or a demand?"
"Both. They already know who you are, and they aren't stupid. They’re just trying to figure out how much you know about them and about me."
We eat in relative silence, the murmur of conversation slowly rising again around us, but never returning to normal. I recognize it for what it is. They know something’s coming. Maybe they don’t know what, but their fear has roots.
When breakfast winds down and the last few bites of biscuit disappear from my plate, Beau reaches into his pocket and tosses a few bills onto the table. He rises smoothly, glancing out the window with a brief ripple of tension pulling taut his jaw before turning back to me.
"I need to stop by the shop, check on a few things. You good to head back on your own?"
I nod. "Yeah. I want to go over the ley line readings again."
His expression sharpens. "Lock the door behind you. Don’t open it unless it’s me. Or one of my brothers."
"Got it. Big bad wolf rules."
"Grizzly," he says with a wink. Then he leans in and kisses me, not softly. Not gently. A kiss that tells me I’m his and he damn well means to keep it that way.
The drive back to the cottage is quiet, each step cushioned by the thick carpet of pine needles beneath my boots. The woods stand still, unnaturally so, as if the trees themselves are holding their breath. The air crowds close around me, dense with a silence that hums with tension. It clings to my skin, the weight of it creeping slowly along my spine until every hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I feel watched—not with eyes, but with something older, deeper. My nerves pull taut, stretched thin and trembling like a wire strung too tight.
Inside, I lock the door and settle at my desk. The laptop hums as it loads, and I scroll back through the readings from the last two weeks. Something clicks. The spikes aren’t random. They're increasing. Not just in intensity, but frequency. What started as subtle pulses now verge on instability.
And it started the day I arrived. The very ground beneath me had responded like a struck chord, sending vibrations I didn’t recognize until now. Every datapoint since has been a drumbeat toward something I can’t yet name, but it’s building. Waiting. And I’m tangled in it whether I want to be or not.
My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my journal. I flip to a clean page, scribbling down the most recent reading. Another surge is coming. The ley lines aren’t just reacting... they’re waking up.
Something is stirring in the earth. Something ancient. Its presence presses against my skin like a low hum. The pressure crawls upward, making my pulse stutter and my breath catch.The floor beneath my feet feels alive, thrumming with an ancient rhythm that matches the frantic beat of my heart. My breath catches, heart skipping a beat as the sense of being observed tightens around me. Not with eyes, but with awareness. It sees me. It knows I’m here. And it’s waiting.
CHAPTER 13
BEAU
The last thing I see before we step out of the Rusty Fork is the sunlight spilling through the wide front windows, casting golden streaks over her shoulders and hair. Her gaze meets mine, steady and unreadable, and for a heartbeat the clatter of dishes and hum of conversation fall away. My pulse slows, then kicks harder.
She doesn't smile, doesn't speak, just walks beside me like she belongs there. Her arm brushes mine as we step outside. The contact jolts something loose in me, a low, thrumming awareness that settles somewhere deep and restless. The air is cooler here, touched by the salt of the sea and the hush of trees. She hesitates, hand resting briefly on my forearm. Not enough to hold me back. Just enough to linger.
Her eyes lift to mine again, lips parted like she might say something, but then she doesn't. I want to reach for her, bridge the impossible gap between what we are and what we could be. She starts to step back, but I cup the side of her face and tilt her chin, giving her no chance to escape me.
I press my mouth to hers, claiming the kiss without hesitation. It's firm and deliberate, my control threaded through every touch. Her lips soften beneath mine, parting slightly. I takemy time, tasting her, letting her feel the weight of my intent. My hand slides down to her waist, pulling her flush against me as my other hand settles at the nape of her neck, guiding her exactly where I want her.
There’s nothing tentative about the way we devour each other. Her lips are velvet and heat, her tongue slick and sure. I feel the tremble in her legs as she leans into me, the way her body fits mine like we were carved to match. My hand finds her hip, grips tight, not to control—but to keep from losing myself entirely.
When she finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard. Her thumb brushes my jaw.
After admonishing her to be careful, lock herself in her cottage and not open the door for anyone but me or my brothers,she heads for her Jeep. The sound of the driver’s side door closing echoes more loudly than it should. She backs out and heads back to her cottage.
I stand in the empty space where her Jeep had been parked, my hands flexing uselessly at my sides. My chest feels too full, as if everything I thought I knew is bending toward something new. Her presence lingers even after the sound of her Jeep fades down the paved road, a tether I can’t seem to shake.
The quiet of the street presses in, broken only by the faint hum of town life carrying on around me.The silence that follows stretches too wide. The forest surrounding town holds its breath. I stand there, rooted in place, until the taillights disappear around the bend.
