17. Rian

17

RIAN

M y senses reel as Natalie’s soft lips press against mine, her lithe body molding perfectly to my hulking minotaur frame. The kiss consumes me, stirring up a tangle of emotions—desire, longing, a deep sense of rightness, like coming home after wandering lost for years.

Her delicate hands slide up my chest, over my flour-dusted apron, sending shivers racing through me.

I growl into Natalie’s mouth, and before I know what I’m doing, my hands are on her perfect ass, grabbing her and lifting her to perch on the counter, bringing our faces level so I’m no longer ducking down. Natalie gasps and then moans, wrapping her legs around me, and I press against her, knowing she must feel how hard I am for her already.

My traitorous hands find the hem of Natalie’s shirt, reaching underneath, my hands so large against her slim stomach. I wrap one hand around her waist while my other slips up to trace the lace of her bra, fingertips slipping under the delicate fabric to tease first one nipple, then the other.

Natalie pulls out of our kiss and throws her head back, moaning again. The sound jolts through me, and a pang of guilt nags at the edges of my consciousness, even as I savor the feel of her soft human skin against my hands.

The secret between us twists inside me, an invisible barrier wedged between us.

I can’t let this incredible moment, this fragile new connection, be built on a foundation of deceit.

With immense effort, I gently pull back. Natalie’s eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her lovely face as she meets my gaze.

My heart clenches at the sight. She thinks I’m rejecting her once again. I have to fix this misunderstanding immediately, before any doubt can take root.

“Natalie, wait...” My voice comes out as a low growl. “I want to keep going. More than anything. It’s just, there’s something really important I need to tell you first.”

She searches my expression, brow furrowed. “What is it, Rian? If you’re not interested, just say so. I… I thought you felt what I did, but if I misread things...”

“No, no, that’s not it at all!” I reach for her hands, engulfing them in my much larger ones. The words tumble out in a desperate rush. “Natalie, these past weeks getting to know you have meant so much to me.”

I suck in a shaky breath. I have to rip off the bandage and pray she can forgive my deception.

“But there’s something I need to confess...” I swallow hard. “I… I’m the other journal writer, Natalie. The one you’ve been corresponding with, in Myrtle’s enchanted journal—that was me.”

Her eyes widen and she slips down from the counter, putting distance between us as the revelation sinks in. “This whole time… it was you ?”

Dread churns in my gut but I forge ahead, desperate to explain. “When I first found the journal and realized it was you writing, I… I thought if we connected, if you got to know the real Elderberry Falls… maybe I could convince you not to sell to Munchin’ Morsels. I wanted to protect my bakery, my town.”

Natalie’s lips press into a thin line but she doesn’t speak, letting me continue. I barrel forward, the words spilling out.

“But Natalie… as we kept writing, something changed. Our connection became so much deeper than that. I started to see new sides to you, to appreciate how truly incredible you are. How much I wanted to be part of your life.”

I meet her guarded gaze head-on, my voice raw with sincerity.

“I know you asked to keep it anonymous, but it was wrong. I shouldn’t have agreed to that, especially once our conversations deepened. I should’ve outed myself to you sooner. I never meant to betray your trust or make you doubt my feelings. What I feel for you… it’s real, Natalie. The realest thing I’ve felt in a long, long time.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy with tension and the weight of my confession.

I hardly dare to breathe, my heart hammering in my chest, as I await her reaction. Will she push me away, disgusted by my dishonesty?

Or is there a chance, even the barest sliver of a chance, that she could find it in her heart to forgive me… to give us a shot despite all my mistakes?

Before she can utter a word, the shrill ring of my phone shatters the moment like a hammer to glass. I flinch, my body jolting as if waking from a trance.

With a muttered curse, I fumble the device from my pocket. Karisse’s mother’s name flashes on the screen and my stomach drops. She never calls me directly, we usually text about pickup times when the girls are playing—unless it’s an emergency.

I shoot Natalie an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

She nods, her expression still unreadable, and steps further back. I swipe to answer, my heart in my throat. “Hello?”

“Rian, it’s about Jessa.” Karisse’s mother’s normally unflappable voice quavers. “She had an accident at our house. Twisted her ankle pretty badly. It’s nothing life-threatening, don’t worry, but she’s in a lot of pain and asking for you.”

“I’m on my way.” I end the call, already moving towards the door, my mind racing.

My little girl needs me. But Natalie… I can’t just leave things like this between us.

I turn back, my expression pleading. “Natalie, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. It’s Jessa. She twisted her ankle and...”

Understanding flashes across her face, followed by concern. “Of course, go.” She hesitates, then adds softly. “We can… talk later.”

Relief and anxiety war within me. Later. There will be a later.

But right now, my daughter needs me. With a jerky nod, I race out the door, my long strides eating up the distance.

Hurrying through the darkened streets of Elderberry Falls, my mind spins in a dizzying whirl. Worry for Jessa claws at my gut, while my confession to Natalie replays on a loop. Did I get through to her? Say the right things?

Will she forgive me?

I try to clear my head. One crisis at a time. Right now, Jessa is my priority. Everything else will have to wait.

I burst through the front door of Karisse’s house, my chest heaving from racing over as fast as I could.

The scene that greets me is a whirlwind of chaos and color. Mismatched furniture in bold patterns crowd the space. Art supplies litter every surface, evidence of Karisse’s boundless creativity—and short attention span.

Amidst the clutter, I spot Jessa curled up on a plush, bright green sofa, her face streaked with tears. Karisse’s mother hovers nearby, her expression full of concern and apology.

“Jessa, sweetie,” I murmur, kneeling beside her. “I’m here. Let me see.”

Gently, I examine her ankle, noting the swelling and the way she flinches at my touch. My heart clenches at her pain, even as relief floods me. Karisse’s mother was right—a twisted ankle, nothing more, not even a real sprain. She’ll probably be fine by tomorrow. It could have been so much worse.

“You’re going to be okay, little love,” I assure her, gathering her into my arms. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

I hold Jessa, murmuring soothing words, but thoughts of Natalie persist like whispers on the edge of my consciousness.

Pressing a kiss to Jessa’s temple, I breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. One step at a time, Rian. Focus on what’s right in front of you.

Once Jessa’s ankle is wrapped up and her tears dried, I scoop her back up, cradling her against my broad chest. “What do you say we head home, munchkin? I’m thinking extra dessert and a movie night are in order.”

Jessa’s face brightens, her earlier distress forgotten. “Can we watch The Enchanted Unicorn again?”

I chuckle. “Anything you want.”

After thanking Karisse’s mother, I carry Jessa out into the night, my steps heavy with exhaustion and the weight of unresolved emotions.

The walk home is a blur, my mind consumed by thoughts of Natalie. I left so quickly, panicked about Jessa’s injury. What if she thinks I’m running away again? What if she decides I’m not worth the trouble?

By the time I tuck Jessa into bed, my nerves are stretched taut, ready to snap. I pace the living room, my hooves wearing a path in the plush carpet. The urge to reach out to Natalie is overwhelming, a desperate need to make things right.

My gaze lands on the enchanted journal, its weathered leather cover beckoning. Before I can second-guess myself, I snatch it up, my fingers trembling as I open it to a blank page.

The words pour out of me, a torrent of emotions I can no longer contain.

Natalie –

I know I’ve broken your trust, and I can only imagine how you must feel. I’m so sorry for not being honest from the start. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you can give me a chance to make things right.

– Rian

My vision blurs as I stare at the words. Is it enough? Can mere apologies bridge the chasm between us?

With a heavy sigh, I close the journal, hugging it to my chest. One thing is certain. I won’t give

up on her, on us, without a fight.