Whispers, Winks, and Trouble Brewing

Latest chapter

• Reclaiming Aria    Prayers in Cotton and Dust

  Aria – POV The door creaks open just as I settle onto the couch, my knees curled under me, one of Kade’s sweatshirts pulled over my legs like a blanket. I hear the weight of his boots against the wood, the low rustle of his jacket as he shrugs it off, and I swear—just the sound of him existing in this space unties something in my chest. He walks in from the barn, cheeks pink from the cold, hair a little wild from the wind. His jaw’s tight, brow furrowed—but when his eyes meet mine, it softens. Every time. He makes me feel like I’m not just wanted. I’m kept. “Ghost calm?” I ask, voice quiet under the hum of the fire. Kade nods, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Still tense. But he’s not pacing anymore.” He glances at the window once before crossing the room, sinking down beside me with a sigh like he’s finally able to breathe again. I watch him. The way his long fingers rake through his hair. The faint crease at the corner of his eyes. That heavy, protective presence that sett

• Reclaiming Aria    Between the Quiet and the Creak

  We leave Hollows farmers Market with arms full of snacks and hearts full of smug satisfaction. Aria’s got a cherry ring pop in her mouth, the candy stick between her fingers, and I swear she’s doin’ it on purpose—dragging her tongue over the red crystal while lookin’ at me like she knows I’m one wrong look from pulling this truck off the road. “You keep lickin’ that like it owes you money, and I’m not makin’ it to the ranch,” I growl. She giggles. “Eyes on the road, Calloway.” “Eyes are on you, baby. Always fuckin’ you.” The sun’s settin’ low, bleeding gold across the two-lane blacktop as we rumble down the dirt path toward the house. Dust kicks up in our wake, soft music hummin’ low from the radio. It’s too damn perfect. We pull up to the ranch, headlights washing over the porch, and I get that twinge—barely there, a whisper in the back of my head. The fire crackles soft, casting long, warm shadows over the wood-paneled walls. One vanilla candle flickers on the end table,

• Reclaiming Aria    Clean up on isle 4

  Hollows farmers Market—smells like cinnamon candles, fried chicken, and desperation. It’s half past six and the place is humming with soft fluorescents and nosy small-town chatter. The aisles are narrow. Shelves stuffed. Someone’s kid is screaming three rows down about cereal, but I don’t give a damn. Aria’s tucked under my arm like she belongs there—like she’s always been mine. Her hair’s still damp from the shower, curls clinging to her neck, and she’s wearing my old navy flannel like it’s a dress. Her legs bare. And all I want to do is drag her back to the ranch and make her forget every movie we came here to grab. She hums and jabs me with her elbow as we pass the endcap loaded with candy and discount DVDs. “I’m not watching another one of your spaghetti westerns, cowboy. I want explosions. Ridiculous car chases. Shirtless actors. Jason Momoa, preferably.” I scoff, reaching for the kettle corn. “You already got a shirtless man, princess.” She gives me a long, obviousl

• Reclaiming Aria    Splinters of the Forgotten

  The screen door creaks open with that soft, familiar groan, like it remembers them. Like the house itself is relieved to see them together again. Aria’s laugh tumbles through the kitchen like sunlight, warm and effortless, the sound curling around Kade’s chest and pulling him in like a damn tide.She’s barefoot again—always barefoot, like she belongs to the ground, not the pain that’s ever touched her. Her sundress sways as she moves, brushing Kade’s knee when she passes the counter, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes drag over her.“Stop starin’, cowboy,” she teases, sliding him a mug of coffee with her pinky still brushing his. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”“I’d embarrass myself a thousand fuckin’ times just to sit in this kitchen with you again,” he murmurs, smirking as he sips, eyes never leaving hers. “Especially with that ass dancing around like it owns the place.”“Kade,” she warns, cheeks flushed.“Yeah, princess?” he bites out, wicked and low. “Say my name aga

• Reclaiming Aria    The Night Behind the Oak

  Her phone lights up again—Kade. Mason doesn’t even need to see the screen to know it’s him. The glow reflects in her smile before she even reads the damn message. Then she giggles. Giggles. “God, you’re such a dork,” she murmurs, thumbing a reply with lazy affection, body relaxed, tone dipped in sweetness like it’s meant for soft bedsheets and bare skin. Something inside Mason snaps. He shoves off the tree, stumbling back into the brush behind her father’s property. The moon’s hanging low, swollen and yellow, casting long shadows across the fields. His breath fogs in the air, sharp with rage. He throws a rock—hard—at the rusted fence post near the property line. It hits with a clang that echoes. His knuckles slam into the side of his car. A muffled grunt escapes his throat. He watches her—untouched by the world, barefoot in the grass, humming under her breath as she starts to braid her hair loosely over her shoulder. The same hair he used to wrap around his hand. The same mo

• Reclaiming Aria    Echoes Through Bark and Bone

  I kill the engine.The hum dies, leaving nothing but the chirp of cicadas and the wind dragging its fingers through the tall field grass. I’m parked just off the dirt access road, tucked behind the swell of overgrown weeds and half-hidden by the thick-bellied oak tree that’s been leaning for years, like it’s tired of standing guard over this fucking place.Her place.Their place.From here, I can just barely see the porch. The light’s soft—dim amber bleeding from the sconces mounted to the beams. That old swing creaks under the weight of Aria and her father. They sit close, like they always did. No secrets between them. No sharp words or cold distance like I had with my own. He’s got a worn mug in hand, steam curling into the dusk. She’s barefoot. Laughing at something he said, her legs curled up under her. Hair loose. Free.Fuck.I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles go white.She looks so at ease. Like nothing’s chasing her anymore. Like Kade’s arms are the whole damn finish l