Free Slightly Spellbound by Kimberly Frost Page A

there to talk about? He hadn’t cared about bakery squabbles or town gossip. I didn’t much care about the New England Patriots’ offense even when they played the Cowboys. There were bound to be lulls in conversations when a couple had been together since they were five years old.
    Maybe after a few years, Bryn wouldn’t be so interested either. The difference, though, was that Bryn was more of a talker than Zach and always would be. During Bryn’s short breaks from working on the Dallas case, he’d encouraged me to tell him what was going on in Duvall. And his wisecracks as I gossiped had left us laughing so hard I’d about come out of my shoes.
    “I need a shower,” Zach said, standing. With a devilish display of dimples, he added, “You could wash my back.”
    My body gave a little lurch of interest, but I chastised my hormones. “Not tonight, I can’t. Wouldn’t be right. I’ll go home and—”
    “Naw,” he said. “Stay. He had a lot of nights with you when I was gone. We don’t have to fool around, but I want more time.”
    That warmed my heart; he was willing to make a real effort. I nodded. “Go on, then. Wash the salt off. I’ll be here.”
    He grinned and hauled his shirt over his head, giving me a glimpse of big rippling muscles. As he headed into the bathroom, I wondered if he’d try to seduce me into more than kissing. I shook off the thought. That was one way Zach was better than Bryn. Zach wasn’t tricky. He did what he said he’d do. There were no hidden agendas.
    Zach had always been the All-American Boy. Handsome, hardworking, and as loyal as the rivers run deep. I couldn’t just let him go. He’d been the most important person in my life for more than a decade. Never seeing Zach would be like losing Momma or Aunt Mel or Georgia Sue. I couldn’t stand it.
    With a pang of guilt, I wondered, What about Bryn?
    He’ll deal with it.
    Bryn understood my attachment to Zach. And the vow meant Bryn and I were connected forever. Even though that complicated things, in my heart it was also a relief. Bryn might get mad about me spending time with Zach, but unlike Zach, Bryn couldn’t cut me completely out of his life.
    After Zach’s shower, he was tired, and we ended up back in his bed. I borrowed one of his jerseys to sleep in, and we lay next to each other in the dark, talking softly, barely touching until he slipped my hand into his.
    “Did you have them play the Lonestar song?” I whispered.
    “You know I did,” he said matter-of-factly.
    “How come you didn’t say so?”
    “I thought you were here to settle things with me, to say good-bye so you could be with him. I didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t stand to.”
    “Do you feel better now that you know I still love you?”
    “A hell of a lot better,” he said. “Instead of wanting to kill him and you and myself, now I just want to kill him.”
    “No one is getting killed. Everything’s going to be okay now.”
    His low laughter was not reassuring. “There is no way everything’s going to be okay. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I know what he feels. If you won’t choose between us, if you don’t force one of us out of your life, the last man standing wins.”
    “No,” I said as I drifted toward sleep. “It’ll be all right.” I won’t let either of you go. I’ll keep you both in my life. One as my boyfriend. The other as a friend.
    We’ll make it work.
    Somehow.

8
    AS I WOKE, I heard the trees whispering, “Across the sea. Ride across the sea.” And I saw myself astride a galloping palomino pony. There were so many vines twisted through my hair that from a distance it looked green. Hooves beat the ground, and burning iron arrows whizzed by, cutting my thigh. I galloped faster and faster, my heart pounding. I looked over my shoulder and saw a pair of silver horsemen—the color of mercury. I sat up in bed, panting.
    “What the Sam Houston?” I said, yanking the covers back to look at my burning thigh.