Pierce’s frown deepened to an almost comical extent as he looked to where she was pointing. “I didn’t notice that.”
“Well, notice it or not, you’d better fix it,” Celeste said, leaning down to run her thumbs over the clay, trying to seal up the hole. “No one’s going to buy that, unless it’s for the novelty factor.”
Pierce laughed again – that laugh that made her heart flip-flopeverytime – and reached around to help her cover the hole. But as he did so, his fingers slipped in the damp clay, and briefly came into contact with hers –
Gasping, Celeste jerked her hands back, her skin tingling, like little electric shocks were coursing up and down her arm. It wasn’t just her skin that was on fire, however – suddenly memories burst into her mind too, the memories of how it had felt just like this every time she and Pierce had touched each other. She’d never known anything like it before or since – it was as if small lightning bolts had arced between them, making all her hair stand on end, her skin sizzle, her brain momentarily forget how to do everything that wasn’t gazing into his eyes, reaching out for him,kissinghim –
Celeste broke out of the haze she’d wandered into as Pierce cleared his throat, blinking as if he was emerging from a haze of his own. As she gazed up at him, she could see his pupils were wide, and – and was that ablushcreeping up his neck…?
“I, uh, I think I can manage the rest of it by myself,” Pierce said quickly, hiding his face by looking down at his mug, his fingers working at the clay – though he was mainly succeeding in making the mug evenshorter, rather than fixing the bad join.
A little deflated, Celeste turned back to her own mug. Had Pierce felt what she’d felt? She couldn’t believe he hadn’t, but it also hadn’t seemed to be very welcome to him either.
Shaking her head, Celeste tried to focus.Well, it shouldn’t be welcome toyoueither! Nothing has changed. Once Gordon returns and this weirdness with the wards is sorted out, I’m going to have to go back to the lighthouse. I still can’t ask him to give everything up to join me there. So what’s the point in getting caught up in something that can never be?
Morosely, Celeste tried to engross herself in fixing her hideous mug, but she wasn’t really sure she was doing any good. The silence between them was awkward, but right now, Celeste wasn’t sure what to talk about, or whether she even should. At least until Pierce broke the silence with a question she wasn’t expecting at all.
“So… that man yesterday. Gordon, was it? He’s your uncle?”
“Oh, yes… well, not by blood or marriage,” Celeste said, suddenly feeling a little wary. Why would Pierce want to know about Gordon? “He’s more of an old family friend, but I’ve always called him uncle. But he’s visiting at the moment, and… well, I’m supposed to show him around…”
She came to an uncomfortable halt. She hated lying at the best of times, but lying to Pierce somehow felt even worse than it usually did. Nothing she’d said was an out-and-out lie, of course, but if she said any more she was going to have to start inventing things. And aside from anything else, she didn’t want to have to remember what she’d said later if asked. Lying just wasn’t something she was any good at at all.
“But he’s not here today? Is he resting after his journey?” Pierce asked.
“Not exactly,” Celeste said. “He’s… he’s on the mainland at the moment. He had some things he wanted to check out.”
There, that wasn’t a lie! Just… not specifically sayingwhathe’s checking out.
Pierce nodded. “I see. Well, I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t interrupting anything. He seemed a little…” He trailed off, and Celeste never got to find out what Pierce thought Gordon wasa littleof, though she thought she could probably guess.
“He’s… an academic,” she said quickly. “He can be a little, uh, snobby, I guess you could say. He’s not really used to talking to people – he prefers books. I think he forgetshowto talk to people sometimes.”
“Oh, an academic?” Pierce glanced at her. “What’s his area?”
“Um. History,” Celeste said. Which again was not, strictly speaking, a lie! “But, uh, he’s an independent scholar. He doesn’t work for a university or anything like that.”
“Wow. It must be nice to be able to pursue your passion like that,” Pierce said musingly. “And you’re an author? Clearly intelligence just runs in the family – though, as you said, you’re not related by blood.”
Celeste swallowed. “Well, you know. I have my calling.”
Guilt welled up inside her. The more time she spent with Pierce, the harder it was to keep up the walls of her secrets. Gordon had told her she had to keep an eye on him, but he had no idea of their history.
And I really can’t believe he has anything to do with whatever’s going on with the wards,Celeste thought, watching Pierce’s face from beneath her eyelashes.But I guess I could just ask him a little more about himself. I want to know what he’s been up to anyway!
“But I didn’t really get to finish asking you about your work and… and your life in general yesterday,” she said, aware her words were coming out in a rush, but not trusting herself to get them out if she didn’t do it quickly. “You said you came here to investigate the earth tremors, but they’re really only very small. Why are they so interesting to you? Or to… well, wheredoyou work?”
She watched as Pierce swallowed, seeming suddenly intent on the lumpy espresso cup he was making. Or sort of making, anyway. It seemed to have acquired a few more unsightly bulges since the last time she looked at it.
“Well. Sometimes these small things can indicate something much… much larger going on,” Pierce said eventually. “I guess we just like to keep abreast of situations, in case they develop into something unexpected.”
“I guess I can see that,” Celeste replied. She was about to ask him for a little more detail, but as she watched him trying to sort out his bulge issues – the ones with his mug! – she found herself becoming mesmerized by the movements of his hands, slick with the moistened clay.
She’d always thought Pierce had beautiful hands, and now she found herself drawn to them once again. Sure, they weren’t the smooth, youthful hands she remembered, but they were still just as beautiful as they’d ever been, elegant and long-fingered. She couldn’t help but notice the way the clay had become embedded in the creases on his knuckles, the way the tips of his fingers slipped through the moisture, the little rivulets of water running down the backs of his hands and through the fine hairs on his –
“—este? Celeste?”
“Huh?” she said, shaking her head, pulled suddenly back into the real world by the sound of Pierce saying her name. She blinked, feeling just a little dazed. “I mean, sorry? Did you say something?”
