Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight

Havermouth, Present Time

On their way back to the house, Heath pulled in at the Havermouth farmer’s market for produce. Whilst he debated over the menu for dinner, Aislen drifted the nearby stalls, buying things that caught her fancy, but had no practical value. Soy candles, twisted, wrought iron candle holders, and little lavender bags to scent drawers. She was examining an antique painting of a still life and trying to decide whether she actually liked the image, or just the age of the image, when someone cleared their throat behind her.

She turned and looked up at Mr. Graynor, immediately mentally reverting to the almost eighteen-year-old caught smoking in the bottom of the oval. “Oh, hi, Mr. Graynor,” she stuttered.

“Hmph, I thought it was you, I had heard that you were back in town,” he snorted through his nose in amusement. “I’m not going to put you in detention, Ms. Carter.”

She laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess not, but deprogramming the indoctrination hasn’t caught up yet.”

He inspected the painting. “It’s not bad,” he said. “Another former student of mine’s work.”

“I’m debating buying it,” she admitted.

“You could do better,” he replied dismissively. “I enjoyed your art very much when you were my student. I enjoy your work now, too, the comic that you do under the name Morgana Ivy.”

“Ah,” she flicked him a sideways glance. “Thank you?”

He laughed. “Students are always unable to reconcile their teachers as human beings. I am only ten years older than you, Aislen,” he told her. “Life as a teacher, eh? Young enough to date my students socially, forbidden by the career. Anyway, I am glad that I bumped into you today. Your sketch book is still at the high school. It’s been on display in the reception area for the past five years, but I believe that they’re taking it down now. It would be a shame for your artwork to be lost, so you should reclaim it.”

“Ah,” she was non-plussed by the dating comment. Talen would be far older than Mr. Graynor, she thought, and yet there was absolutely no way that she’d ever contemplate dating her high school art teacher. His comment, however, was just lecherous enough that she wondered if he felt the same way. “Ah, thanks.”

“Mr. Graynor,” Heath stepped up to her side and put his arm around Aislen’s shoulders. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Mr. Gale,” he said disapprovingly. “I see that you have wasted no time reigniting your relationship with Ms. Carter.”

“Well, you know,” Heath gave a slight shrug. “The Moon Goddess cannot be denied.”

For a moment, Mr. Graynor looked as if he would say something else to Heath, and then he visibly suppressed it. “Very true. Well, enjoy the market.”

Heath and Aislen watched until the crowds swallowed him. “He knew my name,” she said as they returned to the car. “Morgana Ivy.”

“Did he?” Heath raised his eyebrows. “I am not entirely surprised. The pack would have continued to monitor you for risk after you left Rideten, and their resources are considerable. And, as I have told you many, many times, Havermouth excels at gossip above all else. The nature of a pack is to pool resources, and information is a resource.”

“I have to go to the school, perhaps tomorrow after the hearing,” she said as he pulled out. “They have my old art book. There’s a painting of Rhett in there that I’d like to own again.”

“Mhm. The election for mayor will be held at the end of this week, with the results announced Friday night,” he told her. “I have to go.” He slid her a look out of the corner of his eye. “What about yourself?”

“Because the Secret Keeper is your strongest opponent?” She teased him. “I don’t want to be mayor, Heath. I never intended to be your competition. All I wanted to do is give the gossips of this town a taste of their own medicine. They don’t get to pick and choose which secrets to keep and which to spread…” She trailed off, realizing she was guilty of the same.

“Are you going to tell them?” She asked him softly. “About the baby?”

“No,” he replied. “But you are, Aislen. I won’t decide when for you, but if our history has taught us anything, it’s that secrets between us help none of us. It’s time to stop keeping secrets from each other. We need to get into the habit of talking openly about our wants and needs, otherwise we will keep repeating the mistakes of the past.”

She drew in a deep breath and released it. “It is going to take time, Heath,” she told him. “I know that you are trying, that you have been trying all along, to make things work in an incredibly difficult situation. But, the things you did, so many things, both when we were teenagers and since I returned to Havermouth… They are not things that I can just let go of and pretend didn’t happen.”

He nodded and swallowed thickly. “So, you’re going to Guy’s hearing tomorrow?” He changed the subject.

“Yeah,” Aislen relaxed back into the seat. “In a way, he’s the reason I stayed in Havermouth and the reason that I started the Secret Keeper. After we said goodbye, I was planning on getting into my car and taking off, never to return, but June came looking for me. I knew that Lucy was pregnant. I guess I saw what would happen, and I told them not to do it, not that it did any good… But Guy remembered and asked June to find me. I am the only person who could say that he was trying to help her. And that the baby wasn’t his.”

“It wasn’t?” Heath pulled into the driveway. “House looks better already.”

“It does,” Aislen was surprised. “I guess I’m going to have to get the roof done too, now.”

“That’s the nature of renovations,” he was amused. “Once you start doing something, it only shows you what else needs doing. Five years and we’ve only just finished inside of the river house and are starting outside. We didn’t get the chance to show you around fully. Perhaps tonight…” He trailed off. “Too soon,” he murmured reading her face. “Talen is right.”

“Let’s take the things inside,” she tried to change the subject, opening the car door.

“So, if not Guy’s, who was the father?” Heath asked as they carried the shopping around the side of the house to the back door.

“Rohan’s,” Aislen told him as they entered the kitchen.

“Fuck,” Heath grimaced.

“What’s that?” Cameron asked. He was leaning against the kitchen bench and drinking tea. “Hey,” he caught Aislen with his free hand and drew her against him, leaning over and kissing her until she let the shopping bags slip from her hands so she could grip his hips and lean into the kiss.

“I like being able to do that,” he said against her lips, before setting his tea down and pulling her tighter to him, deepening the kiss as Heath edged around them and began to put the groceries away into the fridge.

Cameron’s body was long and lean against hers, and his skin carried the scent of her soap mingled with sweat from his efforts painting. His t-shirt was paint splattered and damp with sweat beneath the palms of her hands, and she didn’t care at all, her libido spiking as his tea-flavoured tongue explored hers, his cock hardening between them.

“I really like being able to do that,” he murmured into the kiss. “Talen, Rhett, and Tyler went to pick up lunch and supplies. We could, if we’re quick, do more than kiss before they come back.”

“Or you could keep kissing me, but take your tongue downstairs,” Aislen teased him.

“You could ride my face like you did Talen’s this morning…” Cameron’s eyes lit up. “And Heath could…”

“They’re back,” Heath said, looking out the window. “Bad luck, Cam.”

Cameron sighed and pouted. “So close, and yet, also so far. But I am starving, so I won’t complain. I’ll happily sate one hunger and then the other,” he winked suggestively at Aislen. “Maybe after lunch, when we’re finished with the painting, we’ll go for a swim and fuck on the balcony like old times…” He trailed on, seeing her expression. “Fuck it,” he visibly flinched. “That’s not going to happen, is it?”

Aislen shook her head slowly, stepping back as Rhett, Talen, and Tyler arrived in a rabble of conversation and bags. “I’ll just put these things away before they get trampled.”

“A good shopping trip?” Talen smiled down at her as he caught her chin with his fingers. His expression sobered, searching her eyes, and he stroked his thumb over her cheek, before glancing at the kitchen where Heath had stepped forward to put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder in comfort and support. “Let me help you with these, Morgana,” Talen said softly, his hand stroking down her forearm to take the bags from her hand. “Lead the way.”