Page 41 of Charmed

Tristan pushed off the desk and sat next to Brady on the opposite couch, his direct gaze trained on Riley. "You and Fiona, huh?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his forehead. "Or not. I don't know. She drives me freaking insane and, still, I want her. Half the time I don't know whether to throttle her or kiss her."

"Attraction is one thing, but where you're heading is entirely different." Tristan shook his head when Riley opened his mouth to argue. "Don't even. You care about her, more than I realized or is probably wise. No woman has ever gotten under your skin. Does she feel the same way about you?"

"Ask me ten years from now, and I still won't have an inkling. One second she's riling me to get a response, the next she's..." Well, in the next beat, she'd stared at him like she would catch him if he fell.

"She what?"

"Nothing." He massaged the back of his neck. "I kissed her last week. We've circled the drain on doing more than that, but that's as far as we've gone."

Brady's brows receded into his hairline. "You're among the living, so she couldn't have minded the kiss."

Nope. She'd been a willing participant. Actually, she'd been unusually submissive to suggestion. "There's chemistry, for sure. She feels it, too."

"You like her." Tristan's gaze held Riley's, brooking no argument. "I mean, you really like her. Ask yourself when that last happened."

Never, that's when. Which wasn't helping his situation an iota.

Brady's amused facade sobered. "It's not as scary as you imagine. We weren't taught or shown much love, but that doesn't mean we don't deserve it."

True, but it also didn't mean it would come knocking on Riley's door. He might be questioning the depth of his feelings, but he doubted Fiona was doing the same. "I never so much as hinted at the word love, and that's easy for you to say. Your witch is gorgeous and brilliant and quiet and kind. No one questions whether you're the perfect match or how much she adores you."

"What makes you think Fiona is any different? From the get-go, you've gone at one another. Yeah, you're on opposite ends of the spectrum. Yet, she's been right there, defending you, accepting your faults and highlighting your strengths when it counts. You think someone like her would do that if she didn't give a damn?"

His brother might be right, but there was a bigger picture here. "I don't think she even likes me half the time. We were thrust together. She had no choice."

A grin, and Brady nodded as if Riley had just proven his point. "You were paired for the tasks and the curse, not for romantic purposes. She didn't knock you into next month when you kissed her. You were able to coax her out of her mood today by flirting. That night she got hurt and you were out of your mind with worry, did she leave you floundering in the aftermath? No, she stayed with you, provided comfort. Has she ever, so much as once, fed into your misconceived notion that you aren't strong enough to deal with what's coming?"

Damn it. No. She'd been surprisingly encouraging and almost gentle in regards to his insecurities. Where he'd expected dismissal or emasculation, she'd met him with her own fierce, unerring form of support.

Brady was right, much as Riley loathed to admit it. Fiona wasn't Kaida. Comparing the two and their circumstances was stupid. Kaida was as open as one of her many books she loved to study. She was a fixer, a thinker. Fiona just...acted. Where others stood aside, letting fear or uncertainty condone a pause, she charged into situations like she had nothing to lose. She protected. She sacrificed. And she never hesitated.

Perhaps that had been his problem all along. Not a soul had ever trusted him, including himself. Until her. Blindly, she'd put her faith in a guy who'd given her no reason or proof that he was worthy. Fiona missed nothing. Not a solitary thing skated past her clever, intuitive notice. So, what, exactly, did she see in him that no one else seemed to?

Rising, he ate the distance to the door, having hit his limit for emotional battery. "I'm going to bed."

He spent the night staring at his ceiling, thinking about her. And the rest of the next morning and afternoon absently going about his day, his mind locked onto nothing but Fiona. By the time he and his brothers met up with the Galloways at their house, he was one errant thought away from losing his shit.

The sisters had rituals for everything. Unlike the Spring Equinox ceremony they'd done a few months ago, Summer Solstice was outdoors instead of in the attic. Near the vast and intricate maze of gardens, they set up a small altar on a palate about two feet off the ground. Warm colors seemed to be the deal this go-around. A cut sunflower, an orange candle, and a golden statue of the sun were placed on a red tablecloth.

Riley merely observed the ritual, participating when asked. The sisters spoke of Litha being a time for transition and planning, to worship the sun, and the fullness of life.

The longer he watched them, the more it dawned on him how idiotic he'd been. Before destiny had kicked in, ignorance had made him fearful of the sisters' practices. He'd gone into the ceremonies half expecting creepy blood sacrifices and ominous chanting in tongues. In reality, their Wiccan beliefs were about balance of power, seasons, elements, and respecting nature. They'd opened his eyes to a whole new way of viewing the world.

As dusk approached, Fiona sauntered over to him by the fire pit and passed him a long neck bottle of microbrew. "Should I be concerned or grateful you've been quiet?"

He grunted a laugh and glanced past the yard toward the cliffs. Gray-blue water churned white-capped waves across the horizon. A salty, humid breeze wafted and brought the scent of brine. They'd cleaned up the barbeque, but hints of grilled chicken, corn, and honey wheat bread lingered. It had been a pleasant afternoon. Like any other lazy summer day. Except it wasn't.

"Just thinking." He swiped the condensation on his bottle with his thumb.

"An overrated pastime."

She would say that. A contradictory term as conflicting as the woman. "Normally, I'd agree."

"Don't go changing our dynamic. We don't agree on anything, remember?" Her tone was blasé, spoken with her usual air of confidence and mixed with a hint of challenge.

He'd listened more closely today, though. After the talk with his brothers last night, he'd decided to pay attention to every tick and nuance of one Fiona Galloway. The little witch said as much with her turquoise eyes and body language as she did with her amazing pouty mouth. And right now, she was concerned about where they stood.

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