Page 4 of Wind Called

She hoped her friend was okay, though. Even if Bree was trying to act as though it was no big deal that she’d completely upended her family’s expectations for her, Bellamy knew she was still probably second-guessing herself, trying to decide if she’d made an impulsive decision that would come back to bite her in the ass when she least expected it.

Well, if that happened, Bellamy knew she’d offer a sympathetic ear whenever Bree needed one.

And then the door opened again, and for a moment, a tall figure was silhouetted against the warm light of the setting sun. Bellamy found her eyes narrowing as she looked at the newcomer, whose features slowly resolved themselves once he was well inside and not so backlit.

Hot damn, he was gorgeous. While handsome strangers came to the wine bar on a fairly regular basis, they usually weren’t alone. No, someone who looked like that generally had a date hanging on his arm.

That wasn’t all, though. When he got closer to the bar, a brief ringing in her ears told Bellamy the stranger was just as much witch-kind as she was, and although she was a little startled, it wasn’t as if this sort of thing hadn’t happened before.

In fact, her first thought was that he must be a Wilcox, since he was dark enough, but somehow, she didn’t think so. Although she couldn’t claim to have met every twenty-something guy in the Wilcox family, enough of them came to visit Jerome that a good percentage were immediately recognizable to her.

No, the stranger was probably a member of the de la Paz clan who’d come up to the Verde Valley for a change of scenery. Although they didn’t visit these parts as often as the Wilcoxes did, it wasn’t as though having a de la Paz warlock drop in out of nowhere was completely out of the ordinary, either.

Even if she was pretty sure this guy was the best-looking de la Paz she’d ever seen.

He came straight for her, his stride purposeful, which seemed to indicate that he wasn’t here solely to get a drink or pick up a couple of bottles of wine. No, he stopped on the other side of the bar and gave a quick glance around, as if to make sure no one was paying them any particular attention, before saying, “Bellamy McAllister?”

“Who’s asking?” she returned with a smile. Yes, the guy was gorgeous, but she wasn’t going to give it all away without getting some idea as to his reason for being here.

His expression remained serious. “My name is Marc Trujillo. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about…in private.”

She felt her eyebrows lift, although she wouldn’t allow her smile to waver. No one seemed to have listened to their exchange, but there were still plenty of people clustered near the bar and the tall tables set up close by, so no way in the world could anyone view this as a situation where they had even a modicum of privacy.

“Can it wait?” she asked. “We’re kind of busy right now.”

Marc Trujillo’s dark gaze swept their immediate environs as though to count all the customers gathered inside the wine bar, and he gave a reluctant nod. “I suppose so. When can you take a break?”

Since she was the assistant manager, she could go on a break pretty much anytime she wanted. However, she was new enough here that she didn’t want to take advantage or make the other employees think she was willing to bend the rules as long as doing so benefited her in some way.

“Half an hour,” she replied, since that was when she’d already planned to take her break.

He didn’t look overly thrilled by that reply, but at least he didn’t protest.

“Okay,” he said. “What’ve you got for a dry rosé?”

She recited the options, then poured him a glass of the wine he’d ordered. Apparently resigned to waiting until she was ready, he took the glass out onto the patio. It was blazing hot today, hovering just under a hundred degrees, but she supposed that if he really was a de la Paz and therefore from Phoenix or Tucson or points in between, then he knew a little something about hot weather.

The next half hour was busier than she’d expected, but eventually she was able to murmur to Pierce, the other guy working the bar that afternoon, that she was taking her break and would be back in fifteen. Thoughts of a glass of rosé tempted her, although she did her best to resist them. She was working, and even if she was currently on her break, that didn’t mean she should start drinking.

Marc Trujillo sat at a table over to one side, where the spreading branches of a large cottonwood tree did a decent job of shielding that section of the patio from the hot sun. As soon as she approached, he set down his glass of wine — she was a little surprised that he hadn’t finished it yet, and guessed he’d been nursing the drink to make it last until she came out to meet him — and stood, then pulled out a chair for her.

“Thanks,” she said, settling herself in the seat. Good-looking and polite?

She could definitely deal with that.

“Visiting from down south?” she asked once he’d settled himself in his chair, and he nodded.

“From Tucson.”

He was a long way from home, then. Although the McAllisters headed into Phoenix all the time to go shopping or run other errands, not nearly as many of them made it as far as Tucson, which was more than a three-hour drive from Jerome.

“Come up to see the red rocks?”

She’d essayed another smile as she asked the question, but his expression remained serious.

“No, I came here to see you.”

For a second or two, she could only stare back at him, trying to figure out if he was making some kind of joke. But no, those dark eyes with their fringe of heavy lashes were sober, without even a single glint to tell her he was teasing.

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