“Don’t you have a job?” she demanded with a frown. “Seriously, shouldn’t you be putting out fires? Rescuing babies and careless women from burning buildings?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all morning? A hero’s work is never done,” he joked. “But actually, I’m burning through sick leave from my station in southern California while I’m trying to get hired on here.” He hesitated. “Can I come in?”
“I’m not stopping you,” she answered, cutting cold butter into cubes and trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest.
“It’s locked,” he said, rattling the handle on the screen.
“Oh, draw a line in the salt on the ground,” she told him.
He mumbled to himself but did as he was told, and when he tried the door again, it opened with ease.
“What kind of black magic do you cook up in this house, woman?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She angled her body away from him as she measured pecans into a food processer.
“How’s Gigi?” he asked.
“She ordered me to stay home while she went to work, so …” Sadie shrugged.
“Of course, she did,” he said, laughing. “I don’t think a hurricane could stop that woman. What are you making?”
“Did you know the pecan tree can survive for more than a thousand years? Chocolate pecan pie is one of Gigi’s classic desserts. So, I thought it would be nice symbolism for her.”
“Why, because she’s going to live for a thousand years?” he asked with a laugh, popping several whole pecans in his mouth and leaning against the counter—too close for comfort, Sadie thought.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, shooing him away.
“I’ve never had pecan pie,” he said thoughtfully.
Sadie stilled and settled her glare on him.
“That’s blasphemy,” she said seriously.
“Listen …” He cleared his throat. “I need to—” But he paused, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck.
He had the eyes of someone who had a secret he didn’t want to share, and Sadie’s skin tightened. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more bad news.
The silence thickened until he shook his head.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she said, breathing a small sigh of relief.
“Yes,” he answered candidly. “The sale is going forward with Rock Creek House, but the place is a total disaster. There are a ton of supplies I need to get because as soon as it’s mine, there are a dozen projects I need to start. But I’m not in the mood, and I think you could use some good distracting.” Sadie rolled her eyes.
“Fine. You can keep me company,” she said, squinting as she dashed some cinnamon into the bowl. His steady presence soothed her nerves; she wasn’t sure that was such a good thing.
“Need a hand?” Jake asked.
“I don’t exactly trust your cooking,” she said, forcing lightness into her voice.
“I had to learn how to cook at the station,” he told her, sitting down at the breakfast bar and watching her work. “When you’re on probation at first, you’re basically everyone’s servant. You have to cook, clean, be on your best behavior.”
“Must’ve been hard for you.”
“Practically impossible,” he said, his eyes following her around the kitchen. “This is like watching a cooking show. Aren’t you going to narrate for me?”
“No,” she said, and surprised herself by laughing. Shaking her momentary mirth off like powdered sugar, she scraped cream cheese into the bowl and began to rub the mixture between her fingers to make a coarse meal. Seemingly unable to sit still, Jake came up behind her, hovering so close it was worse than if he was actually touching her. The back of her neck tingled, and her ears burned hot.
“What’s your secret?” he asked.
“Always stir clockwise,” she told him, adding the cold butter before spooning the whole mixture into a gallon plastic bag. Her apron strings tightened around her waist the closer he got to her.
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s just one of the rules. One of the things Revelare women know.”
“And what else does a Revelare woman know?” he asked.
“That crescent moons are for making wishes and curses, but a waning moon is for breaking them,” she said, trying to scare him off with talk of magic. It didn’t work.
“What else?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to watch as she used a rolling pin to flatten the cold butter into thin flakes.
“River water is for moving on and seawater is for healing. Storm water is for strengthening or, if you’re feeling ambitious, curses. Water that falls as lightning strikes will cause disaster sure as a cracked mirror or walking under a ladder.”
She didn’t know why the words were coming out. She’d never talked to anyone about this, other than Gigi. Seth had never wanted to hear it. Raquel was never in the kitchen long enough. It was like her words needed a home, and Jake was the front door. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head and trying to find her way out of the fog that he produced in her brain anytime he was near her. She reached for the bottle of vinegar.
“I like watching you in the kitchen,” he told her.
“Why? I’m a disaster.” She frowned, her eyebrows inching together suspiciously, and she eyed the countertop, which was already in disarray.
“True,” he said, and laughed, a low rumble resounding in his chest. “But you’re so focused. Everything you do has passion in it. I used to tease you about being dramatic, but … it suits you.”
His words echoed through Sadie, and she leaned into them. Looking straight ahead, her eyes were on level with his chest. They trailed up and caught on the column of his neck. Further up, the strong line of his jaw. She didn’t have to look at his eyes to know he was staring at her lips. She felt it. Felt the burning glance seared there until she finally connected their gazes. He took a ragged breath. They weren’t even touching, and she could still feel him. The ghost of him pressed against her. Every line matching up. Fitting perfectly. And she knew he remembered it too. Could tell by the way his eyes darkened, the pulse in his throat hammering erratically.
He was going to kiss her. Every warning sign that had been blaring in her head like sirens went quiet. He smelled the same, woodsy and bright, and she wanted to bury her nose in his neck, but he didn’t move. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and every line in his body went taut. He wanted it—she knew he did. But he was holding back.
“Jake,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, taking a step back. “There’s something about this kitchen. It …” he shook his head as though trying to clear it. His eyes were dreamy as he looked at Sadie. Like she was a promise. Water in the desert he longed to quench his thirst with. But he didn’t come closer. “I know you wanted time. And space. I’ll go.” But he waited a moment before turning. His eyes begged her to tell him not to.
The words formed themselves in her mouth, but her lips wouldn’t open. With the space between them, her brain started working again. She had gotten comfortable. And being comfortable with Jake meant her guard would be down. She knew where that would get her. Straight into heartbreak number three. Gigi was worth more than her temporary happiness. Family over everything. That’s what it came down to.
She finished the chocolate pecan pies, making sure that none of her tears fell in with the Karo syrup.
The pie was barely in the oven when a lancing pain burned through her chest, as though an invisible hand were squeezing her heart. She gasped for breath and coughed a moment later when the pain vanished. When she could breathe again, the smell of smoke had her running out to the garden.
She shuddered as, before her eyes, all of the plants along the edge of the fence shriveled and died.