Beneath the Patchwork Moon (Hope Springs, #2) (16 page)

“What about Ten? And Will? They don’t count?”

“As casual friends, sure. That’s not what Kaylie is. Or what Sierra was.”

“Or what the mutt’s supposed to be?”

“Sometimes a dog is a better listener than anyone.”

“Yeah, but you can’t take Frank here to Malina’s.”

That brought a smile to her mouth, a smile that faded too quickly and had him wondering whether she was thinking
back to the morning they’d gone to breakfast. The morning she’d told him about getting so completely lost in her work she ended up needing bandages. The morning he’d been a jerk because he hadn’t known what to do with that kiss and the lingering burn.

It haunted him still. He woke in the middle of the night with his heart pounding, feeling Luna’s hands on his back, turning into her arms, only to find he was alone in the house where he’d always been alone, ignored, in the way, left to fend because he’d proved himself responsible. Looking forward to Luna’s visits because she paid attention to him. And if that wasn’t desperately pathetic…

So it surprised him when what she said was, “I guess it’s too late for us.”

Tread carefully, Caffey. Do not be dumb
. “To be friends?”

She nodded. “Seems the least we could do. For Sierra.”

“Hmm. I thought all the time you’ve been spending here was because you wanted to be something more.” He didn’t know why he’d said it. It was such a stupid thing to say, to even be considering. Especially when things between them had become less contentious.

He waited, thinking he must’ve gone too far, but finally, she looked up, her hand stilling on the mutt’s head. The mutt on the cushion between them, keeping them apart. “We were too young, you know. Back then. You and me. Oscar and Sierra. All of us sneaking around.”

“You three maybe. I was eighteen.” He watched Luna stroke the dog, watched the dog shiver between them, thought back to her hands on his skin.

“And that made you old enough?”

“It made me horny enough.”

“Were you ashamed of me? Being with the girl from the sheep farm when you could have had anyone?”

“No, Luna. I wanted the girl from the sheep farm.”

The room, already dark, took on a new closeness, the light from the kitchen the only illumination on the first floor where they waited… for supper, for another box or two to be packed. For bed. Luna’s eyes glowed, a deep brown of coffee and chocolate and caramel, her hair so rich and black, glossy even in the feeble light.

Her smile began slowly, just a tip at both corners of her mouth, then broader, reaching her eyes, shining there. “We fought a lot, you know. For two people who spent as much time as we did in bed.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
Crap. That was not what he’d meant to say
. “Not that what either of us felt was love—”

“Oh, I know,” she rushed to say, and he wasn’t sure her letting him off the hook was what he’d wanted to hear. But it was the smart thing for both of them; until he learned the things he’d come here for, he had to keep his current involvement with her to this. Whatever
this
was. Friendship, he supposed.

Yeah. He could be friends with Luna Meadows. And with the admission came the strangest sense of lightness, of freedom, one he’d take time later to examine. Right now, he was hungry. He had boxes to pack. And he probably needed to make a run for dog food. Who would’ve thought?

D
AY
T
HREE

THURSDAY

It is better to spend one day contemplating the birth and death of all things than a hundred years never contemplating beginnings and endings.

—Buddha

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

W
hat do you think?” Luna asked, raising the grate on the loft’s freight elevator. Breathing deeply, she swore she could still smell the bales of cotton that had been stored here while awaiting shipment to East Coast textile mills more than a hundred and forty years ago.

“Are you kidding me? This is incredible. And it is so,
so
you,” Kaylie said, stepping into the huge open space on the top level of the four-story warehouse. The floor was rough concrete, the room bare except for the six support beams that almost symmetrically divided the area into three sections.

“Because I’m vacant? And naked?”

“No, silly. Because you’re an artist, and this place is a palette waiting for you to weave your magic.”

“Very clever, you are, with the weaving instead of the painting.”

But Kaylie was already halfway across the room, making her way to the long stretch of windows. She reached for the handle to one and rolled it open. The warm Hill Country breeze fluttered through, and she breathed it in, filling her lungs, smiling.

“If I didn’t love my house so much, and hadn’t just spent a ridiculous fortune putting it back together after the fire, I would be raising all kinds of money to buy this place.” She
closed her eyes, dropped her head back. “Open windows on both ends and you’ll never need a fan. And the light is incredible. How can you stand not living here already? And there’s even enough room if you decided you want to share the place. With a roommate. Or, you know, a man.”

A blush stole up Luna’s neck as she realized Angelo was the only man who came to mind. Not any of the men she’d dated casually over the years. Not any of those she’d dated seriously. Not even Will Bowman, whom she’d thought at one time she’d like to know better.

“Who is it?”

“What?” She glanced at Kaylie and frowned.

“The look on your face. What’s his name?”

Luna sighed, walking the length of the loft as if she’d find a sensible answer along the way. She’d been living at home with her parents for twenty-eight years. She hadn’t gone to college. She’d learned her trade while confined to her bed with a broken hip in high school. Once her scarf line had taken off with the first celebrity sighting, one from the Austin boutique draped artfully around Cameron Diaz’s shoulders, she’d refused to give but just a handful of interviews, avoiding TV spots like the plague.

At heart, she was a small-town girl, and she’d lucked into a lucrative profession. And she’d done so without having to beat the streets and hawk her wares. But no matter how many men she’d dated, she’d had eyes for no one but Angelo Caffey since seeing him for the very first time.

How did she even function in the real world with so little real-world experience?

How could she possibly trust what she felt for him? How would she ever know if her feelings for him
were
for him, or
if they were tied to the loss of his sister? She wanted desperately to believe that last night had been a turning point. That they had moved beyond the anger and reached a place where they could talk about the past, grieve what they’d lost. Explore what they’d both buried because the time had never been right.

“Luna? Is something wrong?”

“I think I’m in love,” she said, swept away as a flood of emotions crashed over her, stunned her, left her struggling to breathe. “I think I have been for years.”

“What?” Kaylie reached out, took hold of Luna’s arm, and pulled her around. “What are you talking about? Who are you in love with?”

“Angelo Caffey.”

“From the house, Angelo? Your friend’s brother, Angelo?”

Luna nodded. “I met Sierra when we were both freshmen at the St. Thomas Preparatory School. Angelo went to Hope Springs High, but I actually met him the same day. He came to school to pick her up, and I came this close to punching his lights out.”

With a shocked laugh, Kaylie let her go. “I need to hear this story. And as much as I’d love hearing it over a margarita, I need to hear it now.”

“There’s not a lot to it. Sierra and I were both waiting for our rides in front of the school. We were getting to know each other. I was telling her about a dog I’d had. We were fifteen and in private school. And not the cool
Gossip Girl
TV show kind of school. We were dorks,” she said, rolling her eyes when Kaylie chuckled. “Anyway, Angelo drove up and honked. Sierra and I were talking, so she didn’t move, staying to hear what I was saying. He honked again. I got up and
walked to his car and, hypocrite that I am, yelled at him to stop yelling. He shoved the door open and got out, and was about to lay into me.”

“But you didn’t let him.”

“I don’t have siblings, so I’m the last person to understand the dynamics. But the way he was talking to Sierra just burned me up. I got close enough to jab my finger into his chest, and I kept yelling, until all of a sudden I realized he was breathing hard. And his chest was this solid wall of young football player muscle. And my chest was mush. I fell completely. Right there. Just like that.”

“But you never dated?”

“I wouldn’t call what we did dating,” she said, and Kaylie
aahed
knowingly. “I spent a lot of time at Sierra’s house. I loved all the noise. She had two sisters and three brothers. Angelo was the oldest. But we were never friends, he and I. And I always had to get in the last word.”

“Sounds like you were meant to be together from day one.”

“I don’t know. How
can
I know?” She was so very frustrated with wanting to. “We were so young back then. But now that he’s here—”

“He’s not a boy any longer.”

Luna nodded. “He came to clear out the house before we tear it down. Or that had been the plan. Now we may not tear it down. Will suggested building onto it, using the house for the staff, and I ran the idea by Ten… which I’m sure you already know.”

“He mentioned it, yes. And I think it’s a perfect idea. But then you know how I feel about renovating structures, especially ones full of history. It sounds like this one holds a lot for you.”

“It does. Which makes it hard to know what to do. I don’t want to spend time in those rooms and see Angelo, or relive memories of him being there, every time I turn a corner. I know how I feel, and I know he’s not indifferent to me. But it’s so hard to know where all the tension is coming from. We’re in the house together, looking through all the things that are still there, and memories are everywhere, making me sad. But I try to hide it because I know he’s got to be feeling even worse.”

Kaylie reached out and took hold of Luna’s hands with her own, squeezing. “You want to talk about it over an early lunch?”

Another nod. A reciprocal, desperate squeeze. “A long lunch. With a whole pitcher of margaritas.”

Forty minutes later they were seated at the Gristmill Restaurant, where Luna had waited tables while in high school. Kaylie’s father, Mitch, had worked in the kitchen at the time and helped Luna get the job. He worked here still, but he’d soon be splitting his time between Gruene, where the Gristmill was located, and Hope Springs, where he, along with Dolly Breeze, would be working magic in Kaylie’s Two Owls Café.

Kaylie had waited so long to see her dream come true. Luna was thrilled it was finally happening. She was also thrilled her good friend had found such happiness with Ten. Kaylie deserved the life she was living more than anyone Luna knew. Not everyone left for twenty-three years believing she was alone in the world would’ve become the wonderfully selfless person Kaylie was. And now that Kaylie had found both her father and the love of her life, well, Luna couldn’t deny her envy.

A happy envy. A good envy. But still. Envy. “So? When’s the wedding?”

The huge diamond solitaire on Kaylie’s ring finger sparkled in the light shining over the Guadalupe River and onto the Gristmill’s patio, causing Luna to go still. White. Sunshine yellow. A bouquet of purple-cream calla lilies with golden tongues. The green of stems and leaves.

“Uh, hello? Earth to Luna.”

“Sorry, I was just—”

“Designing a scarf. I know. I’ve been through this with you a dozen times now.” Kaylie reached for her tea, held the straw for sipping. “Did you need to stop and type yourself a reminder?”

“You do know me well.” Luna dug her phone from her pocket and added the details of the colors and design to her note-taking program. “I mean, I usually remember these things after I see them, but as the story develops, it’s nice to have everything in one place.”

“And what story is this?”

“I’m not quite sure, but you flashing that rock of yours is what inspired it.”

“I do not flash my rock,” Kaylie said, flashing it. “At least not often. And only in front of good friends who understand how happy I am. Rock or not. Because it’s definitely not about the rock.”

Luna grinned as she picked up her fork to dig into her salad. “Though the rock doesn’t hurt.”

“Ten is my true rock. The only one I care about.” Kaylie looked down at her hand, splayed her fingers. Then laughed. “You’re right. The rock doesn’t hurt at all.”

They spent the rest of the meal discussing the progress on Kaylie’s café…

“I can’t decide if opening before Thanksgiving is a good idea or not. People will be so busy with holiday planning.”

“And that makes it the perfect time. They’ll need a break from shopping. Or a place to sit and enjoy a meal and swap recipes with friends. Or have a cookie exchange. Or just do nothing for an hour but eat brownies.”