“WHAT WAS THAT all about?” Egan asked Macy, who smiled up at him innocently from her car window. He’d put her bags in the trunk while she was in the house saying goodbye to Celeste.
“I don’t know what you mean, dear boy.” Macy revved the car and put it into gear. “Look, now that I’m heading out, I feel kinda weird leaving you here all alone in the middle of nowhere with someone we don’t really know too well.”
Egan laughed. “Macy, I think I’m pretty safe here. I can manage Celeste if she gets all feisty on me.”
“Stop! You know what I mean. What kind of person takes you on a road trip and then leaves you there?” Macy moaned. “I’m a horrible friend.”
Egan placed his hand on Macy’s arm that was resting on the open window frame of the car door. “Macy, you’re the best friend a guy could ask for. I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t want to. The idea has actually grown on me, and I think you may be right. I need some time away from the city and all of my obligations there. Being here—I feel a sense of peace that I haven’t felt in a long time. If ever. It’s a win-win situation. I’ll keep busy and help Celeste take care of a few things around the property, and in return maybe she can give me some tips and help me get . . . unstuck, I guess.”
“I think she can do more than just get you unstuck, Egan. You just have to be open to the possibilities and let her in.”
“Macy—” Egan warned.
“I didn’t mean like that, knucklehead. I meant she has this way about her. If you just trust in the process, and really share some of the feelings of grief that have been trapped inside these last two years, I think you’ll feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders. Maybe then you can tackle figuring out if you want to go back into corporate philanthropy or find something else to do, another way to give back.”
“I have every intention of returning to my job, Macy. I just need to recharge and get my game face back on. I’ll be fine.” Egan looked over his shoulder at Tranquility, then faced Macy again. “Hey, will you do me a huge favor? Can you check on Mom this week when you get home? I’ve gotten some more disjointed emails from her. One minute she’s sad and pleading, the next she’s tearing into me about something. I think it’s just more of the usual, but could you drop by, maybe take her to lunch or something? I hate to ask, but I’m a little worried about her, and I wasn’t around as much the past few weeks as I should’ve been with the shock of my job stuff. I’ll call her to let her know I’m taking a vacation down here, but I’d feel better if she got out of the house for a bit, saw a friendly face while I was gone. Would you mind?”
“Of course not. I’ll call you and let you know how it goes. Have fun, Egan! Just promise me you’ll be open to whatever is meant to unfold while you’re here.”
Egan shrugged, afraid to commit. But he knew he was in the right place at the right time in his life for a reason. He could sense a purpose higher than himself at work here, and he was ready to face some of his fears head on. “I think it’s time, Macy.”
She smiled before she drove off, waving as the car kicked up dust from the gravel road leading from the property. With Macy gone, it was suddenly quiet. Egan looked around the property and took a deep breath. I’m ready for whatever awaits. He turned to head back inside to Celeste.
THE SMELL OF peppers searing grabbed his attention as soon as he stepped inside. Celeste was at the stove tossing handfuls of ingredients into a wok that sat over one of the burners. He knew not to mess with the chef when she was hard at work, so he took the moment to just watch her as she expertly made her way around the kitchen, at ease as she hummed to herself. She looked beautiful here, happy. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear to get it out of her face while she was cooking, smudging a little soy sauce on her cheek in the process. She looked so darn cute in her half-apron, bopping around the kitchen to whatever tune she was humming to herself.
He wished, for just the briefest of moments, that she was his to come home to like this every day. The thought sucker-punched him in the stomach. Where in the world did that come from?
Then his thoughts flashed back to a memory of his mother in the kitchen, making his father a birthday cake. She’d let Declan help frost it, and the three of them sat around the kitchen island, talking and laughing, waiting for their father to get home from work to surprise him. Only he had to work late he’d said, hoped they didn’t mind. Egan would never forget the happiness that was stripped from his mom’s face as she tin-foiled the cake and set it in the fridge. She plastered on a fake smile and told Declan to get ready for bed because it was a school night. When he was gone, his mother sank onto a stool in the kitchen and raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes as silent tears spilled. Egan hadn’t known then that she already suspected his father was cheating on her, or that he was with his mistress that night instead of his family. She’d trusted him, but in the end, it was all lies. Egan shook his head, dense layers of pain and love mixing together in his heart, like ingredients that couldn’t be separated once tossed together.
It wasn’t Celeste. She seemed like an amazing woman, an amazing catch if he were interested. But he wasn’t. His heart was closed for business, no matter how damn cute she looked as she poured her love into their meal.
THAT NIGHT, EGAN slept poorly. They’d made small talk over dinner, but it hadn’t felt the same without Macy’s easy banter to smooth out the funk he found himself in after thinking about his father. Celeste must have sensed that he needed space because she headed to her workshop as soon as the dishes were cleared. Said she was feeling inspired to make some progress on her art installment for Nash.
He woke up in a surly mood but was determined to do something useful to keep his mind off the painful memories that had darkened his dreams.The sight of Celeste in her yoga pants and bare feet, her limbs woven into some complicated position on the floor of the great room, made his heart stop. Her eyes flew open when he entered.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your flow.”
She untangled her limbs and stood, lowering at her waist, but not stopping some hidden pattern that must’ve been in her head. There was no music on in the room, but she continued a beautiful rhythm of movement as she spoke. “That’s okay, I’m almost done with my sun salutations. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her lithe form as she bent and raised, twisted and stretched, her arms ending in a prayer position. Finally, he remembered to answer as he watched her roll up her yoga mat. “Not at all. I couldn’t sleep—bad dreams again. I was hoping to get an early start on some projects for you.”
“Sure, we can start those today. How about some coffee first? You seem like a coffee guy.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Egan laughed.
“Not at all. I just remember what my days in the business world were like. I couldn’t have survived without caffeine back then. Besides, Macy may have mentioned how you took your coffee.” She winked and playfully touched his arm. They both stilled, aware of the heat that sparked at their slightest touch.
Celeste cleared her throat. “I just need to hop in the shower. Coffee fixings are in the kitchen. Why don’t you start a pot while I clean up? I’ll be up in a few to make us some breakfast, and then we can head to the workshop together to figure out where to start.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Egan watched as she walked to her bedroom and closed the door. He didn’t know exactly what it was about Celeste, but everything about her captivated him. When she walked, his eyes wanted to follow. When she spoke, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her soft cadence. He knew he could never act on this attraction, because he was afraid if he let himself open up even the tiniest bit, he would be entirely consumed and lose himself forever in her.
During breakfast he was nearly driven mad by the purity of a freshly cleaned Celeste. She smelled the way crisp cool bedsheets felt against your skin. He lost count of the times he wanted to lean in and breathe deeply behind her ear. He could almost feel the damp tendrils of her hair between his fingers. When she finally cleared the last of their breakfast plates and asked if he wanted to join her in the workshop, he flew out of his chair, eager to put some space between them. They walked in amicable silence most of the way to the workshop, which was really just a converted barn space to the right of the main house. As she slid open the large, rustic doors, his heart nearly stopped when he saw a massive set of angel wings in the center or the space. She had them hoisted in the air with some metal pulley contraption that held them upright, he assumed so she could work on them.
“Celeste.” He didn’t know what else to say. They were beautiful. The wood was distressed, the feathers of each wing carved with precision. They looked like they would take flight at any moment. Instinctually, his hand went to his arm, where his message to Declan burned into his flesh, a constant reminder that nothing could ever keep them apart, not even death.
“Do you like them?”
He couldn’t believe there was a shred of hesitancy in her voice. “Like them? Celeste, they’re magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like them. Can I look closer?”
“Of course,” she replied, moving forward with him as if to see them with his eyes while he inspected them for the first time.
He wanted to run his hands along the smooth curves of the wood, but he would never touch an artist’s work. Besides, standing there, looking at the angel’s wings, only made him want to run his hands along the artist herself.
Egan cursed himself for imagining Celeste naked while he was standing there looking at angel wings. Then he cursed himself for cursing in front of them too. He laughed out loud at how tangled up inside he felt around Celeste and her work. He turned to face her.
“They’re unbelievable. I truly don’t have words for how they make me feel.”
“That’s testament enough then.” Her lips turned up into a shy smile. “So, this is the work space. I think you can find pretty much any tool under the sun in here. I had my own stocked workshop back in my loft, and then Mitch left a bunch of tools and gadgets here too. Macy asked if you could work on the arbors first, since they’re for the grand opening. But my prayer bench is just as important to me, so whatever you feel inspired to work on should be fine.”
“The prayer bench should be pretty easy to build, so why don’t I get that done and out of the way? Then we can work on some sketches for the arbors. I hear Macy wants to use real tree limbs?”
Celeste nodded, heading over to the longest workbench and running her fingers through hundreds of magazine clippings, words. “For not being a party planner, she sure has some excellent ideas in that arena. But then, I suppose she’s been to hundreds of galas in her career, and she does have a great eye for detail.”
She must have found what she was looking for, because Celeste beamed when she picked up a long scroll of paper. “I’m hoping to finish up my piece today, so I shouldn’t be in your way too much this week as you’re working on these projects. And . . . I really appreciate your help. We can talk about how to compensate you for your time later.” Celeste looked up, blushing when Egan laughed out loud again. “I—oh, stop, Egan. You know darn well what I meant.”
Egan couldn’t help himself. He closed the space between them, looking down into her pretty face. He brushed a stray hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “I have a million ways you could repay me, Celeste,” he said gently. “I’m just not sure either of us is ready for the things I have in mind.”
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, then turned to go find some wood to start banging on. If he couldn’t satisfy his own desires, he would at least make sure he gave Celeste one hell of a bench.