Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(22)

Finally she heard Rosemary’s voice. “Hello, Justine. I hear you’re asking about a geas, of all things. What an upsetting word.”

“It’s more than a word, Rosemary. It’s a curse.”

“Not always.”

“Are you saying a geas is a good thing?”

“No. But it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Just tell me yes or no: Did someone bind a geas to me?”

“I can’t confirm or deny anything until we can talk face-to-face.”

“That means yes,” Justine said bitterly. “It always means yes when someone won’t confirm or deny something.”

The revelation that Rosemary and Sage had both known about the geas hurt even more than Justine would have believed. All the times she had sat at their kitchen table and confided in them, told them how lonely she was, how much she longed to find love and was afraid it would never happen. And they had said nothing, even though they had known the truth: It was never going to happen because she’d been cursed.

“Come to the island and we’ll talk,” Rosemary said.

“Sure, I’ll just drop everything. It’s not like I have a business to run.”

Rosemary’s tone was reproachful. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Justine.”

“Neither does a lifelong curse.” Yanking out her ponytail elastic, Justine scrubbed her fingers through her hair and pressed her palm against her tense forehead. “I’ll come tomorrow morning after breakfast. It’s supposed to be good weather—I’ll take the kayak.”

“We’ll look forward to seeing you. We’ll have lunch.” A brittle pause. “You haven’t … tried anything, have you?”

“What, like breaking the geas?” Justine asked with careful blandness. “Is there a spell that could do that?”

“It would be a difficult feat to accomplish on one’s own. Especially for someone who hasn’t practiced magic any more than you have. However, if someone did manage such a thing, the consequences could be severe. A geas is a powerful enchantment. Creating or breaking one exacts a heavy price.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Rosemary said.

A defiant frown worked its way across Justine’s face as the call ended.

It was one thing to pay a price for a mistake that she’d made on her own, but it was unbelievably unfair to have to pay a price for something that another person had done to her.

* * *

To Zoë’s delight, Alex entered the inn’s kitchen while she and Justine were preparing trays for afternoon tea. He was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, his hiking boots coated with dried mud from having spent part of the day walking around the undeveloped Dream Lake property.

“My floor,” Justine squeaked, seeing the track of footprints across the wood planks she had mopped that morning.

“Sorry.” Alex had headed directly for Zoë, who was arranging plates of miniature fruit tarts on a silver tray. He hugged her from behind, one arm crossing high over her chest, the other around her waist. “I’ll clean it up before I leave,” he told Justine over his shoulder, flashing an apologetic grin. Ducking his head, he kissed the side of Zoë’s neck.

“Want a little tart?” Zoë asked, leaning back against him.

“Yes.” Looking over her shoulder at the tray, he added, “I’ll take one of those, too.”

Zoë laughed and tried to swat him, and he crushed his mouth over hers in an ardent kiss. When she tried to end the kiss, he sank his hand into her blond curls, anchoring her in place as he sealed their mouths more tightly.

“Jeez,” Justine said, “get a room.” But she was pleased to see both of them so happy.

Alex had been known for the quality of his work, and for his ability to get a project done on time, but he’d also had a well-deserved reputation as a cynical and dissolute loner, a borderline alcoholic. It would not have been an exaggeration to call the change in him miraculous.

When the relationship had started, Justine had been honest with Zoë about her concerns, advising her not to try to save a man like Alex, who’d already been divorced once and appeared to be heading downhill. Zoë had agreed; you couldn’t save a man like that. But you could be there for him if he was trying to save himself.

Only time would tell if Alex’s transformation would hold. It was clear, however, that he was determined to be a good man for Zoë, the kind of man he thought she deserved.

“How did it go today?” Zoë asked breathlessly, when Alex took his mouth from hers.

He smiled down at her and lifted one of the tarts from the tray. “The deal looks good. I’m cautiously optimistic.”

Justine knew that “cautiously optimistic” for Alex was the equivalent of wild enthusiasm for anyone else. “So what did you think about Jason Black and his entourage?” she asked.

“Kind of an odd group,” Alex said. “All of them wound a little tight. Fast-talking and intense, and trying like hell to impress Jason.” Alex devoured the tart in a single bite and paused to savor it, his eyes closing briefly. “God, that’s good,” he told Zoë.

Zoë smiled at him. “I’ll get you some coffee.”