She should probably be worried about that, but she wasn’t.
They spent the next hour prepping dinner and grilling on Cas’ back porch, the scent of sizzling steaks filling the air. Harper relaxed in one of the porch chairs, savoring the feelingof contentment that had settled over her. The guy moved around the grill with an ease that matched everything else he did, and soon they were enjoying a delicious meal together.
Afterward, they migrated to the front porch swing. The warmth of the evening air combined with Cas’s quiet presence made it easy to let her guard down.
“I’m sure you must be wondering what I mean when I keep saying that learning about my great-grandmother’s past might help me with my own,” she said quietly as they rocked gently back and forth.
The squeaking of the chains was one of the most relaxing sounds she’d ever heard.
“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” he said in a calm, quiet tone.
She nodded without looking at him. “Now is a good time,” she said, then began to tell him about the school shooting she’d survived in Geometry class her senior year when she was seventeen, about the chaos and fear, and about Alex—her boyfriend—who had shielded her with his own body and paid the ultimate price. She chanced a glance or two at Cas, truly grateful that he listened intently, his expression solemn but never pitying.
He reached over, taking her hand in his, offering a solid, comforting presence that steadied her as she fought to keep her composure.
“I went back for graduation,” she told him, staring at their entwined fingers, noting how small and smooth hers appeared against his long, thick, calloused ones. “I walked the stage for Alex, for my friends who were also killed,” Harper said, her voice thick with emotion. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew I had to do it. For them. For myself.”
By the time she finished, tears were streaming down her face, but she felt a strange sense of pride that she’d kept ittogether long enough to tell him everything. Her body was shaking, though, so when Cas tugged her into his arms, she finally let herself go, sobbing harder than she had in years. He held her close, his arms strong and reassuring, murmuring soft words of comfort as he caressed her hair and back.
“It’s okay,” Cas whispered, his voice gentle. “You’re safe. You’re strong. You’re not alone.”
Harper clung to him, letting his strength seep into her, grounding her as the storm of emotions finally began to subside. She felt lighter, freer, as if a weight she’d been carrying for far too long had finally been lifted. When she pulled back, she managed a smile, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time.
“Thank you, Cas,” she said, her voice still shaky but filled with sincerity. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
He lifted a finger to gently brush a tear from her cheek, his expression tender. “You don’t have to thank me, Harper. I’m just glad you felt like you could share that with me.”
So was she.
Grabbing his hand, she squeezed as gratitude and sense of connection filled her chest. She knew she’d always be stuck on this long road of healing, but for the first time, Harper felt like she wasn’t walking it alone. And that, more than anything, gave her the hope she’d been searching for.
Releasing him, she rose to her feet. Contentment washed over her as she glanced at the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the ranch. This place was paradise, but it was time to head home. Still, part of her was reluctant to leave the easy comfort she’d found here with Cas.
“Guess I should get going,” she said, with a sigh. “Thanks for the day. It was exactly what I needed. Fruitful, delicious, great company, and to open up, I guess.”
He nodded, his smile warm and genuine. “Anytime, Harper. I mean it.”
They walked together toward her truck, the comfortable silence between them underlined by the quiet sounds of the ranch—crickets starting their evening song and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. As they reached her truck, Cas turned to her, his gaze lingering on her face. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with something that had her heart beats thudding in her ears.
Then he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her face. Harper’s breath hitched and her pulse galloped as she met his gaze. He hesitated for just a moment, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin, and then he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft but insistent. Harper responded immediately, sliding her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck as she let herself get lost in the feel of him, and the warmth, the steady strength that seemed to anchor her in place.
The kiss deepened, and Harper felt the rest of the world fall away. Her past, her work, the diary—all of it disappeared in the space of her irregular heartbeats. It was just them, the soft press of his lips and the way his hands held her like she was something precious. Then it changed, amped up, and she eagerly responded, kissing him back, harder, hungrier, wanting, needing more.
When they finally broke for air, she was panting and clutching his shirt, and she couldn’t help but smile at the way Cas’s eyes seemed to linger on her, as if he were memorizing every detail.
The moment was magic. He was magic, and she was the luckiest woman in the world to have his attention. She’d never felt so much from just a kiss before.
“That was…wow,” she said between breaths.
He smiled and traced her lower lip with his thumb. “It certainly was.”
Cas kissed her forehead then reached behind her to open her door. But then he stiffened, and his expression shifted from warm to alert. “Harper, what’s this?” he asked, picking up the envelope with her great-grandmother’s photo and the warning note half spilled onto the seat.
Shoot.
She’d meant to tell him but forgot. Her chest tightened. “I found it in my truck when I left the bakery this morning.” She took the envelope from him and pulled out the contents the rest of the way and showed him the photo of her great-grandmother and the cryptic note.
Cas’ jaw tightened, and gaze darkened as he read the message. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” he asked, his voice edged with concern.
