Instead, I close my eyes, breathe in the scent of her hair, and let myself pretend—just for tonight—that she’s mine for good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emery
Something sweet hitsmy nose before consciousness does.
Warm. Rich. Chocolatey.
My eyes blink open to a blur of weak sunlight cutting through unfamiliar curtains. After a slow, lazy beat, my memory kicks in.
Declan’s bed.
Declan’s chest.
Declan’s hands.
Declan’s everything.
Oh God.
Declan’s pierced dick!
That really happened. Heat rushes up my neck so fast my skin practically sizzles. I stretch, a sleepy yawn leaking out of me. Parts that haven’t ached in way too long wake up to remind me of all the things Declan and I did in his bed.
“Morning, little crow. How curious are you today?” Declan’s rich, rumbling voice greets me.
I blink my eyes open. Declan’s sitting on the edge of the bed holding the takeout box from the restaurant and a plastic fork like he’s my own personal tattooed chocolate-cake-for-breakfast angel.
I sit up, letting the sheet fall to the side. “I totally forgot about the cake.”
“Seems like a compliment.” He spears a chunk of the cake and holds the fork out to me. “I made you forget about dessert.”
“Yes, you did.” I scoot closer to him and open my mouth. He slides the fork between my lips, and the chocolatey goodness floods my mouth. “Oh my.” I meet Declan’s heated gaze and slowly lick the last bits of frosting from the tines.
“Still good?” he asks, dipping his fork back into the box.
“Mm-hmm.” I scoot closer and tease my fingers over the waistband of his shorts. “Why are you clothed?”
He slips a bite of cake into his mouth then offers me another one.
I slide my hand lower, touching his knee.
An image of the cemetery fires in my mind. Then the Widow statue. Not more visions. Memories.
The cake’s good but it’s not orgasmic enough to trigger the flashes I had last night. Why now? Can’t I enjoy a quiet morning with Declan?
Last night, we were as connected as two people could be so it made sense the curse might try to use that connection. Today, I need to figure out why it happened at all.
Whatever the reason, I’m too unsettled to keep flirting.
“I need to get to the shop,” Declan says.
“Right. Work. Yup. I should go back to the inn.” Heat fans over my cheeks. “Mrs. Applewood is going to wonder about me.”
“Then what are your plans?” he asks.
“Uh.” I glance down at my naked body. “Change clothes. Do a little research.” I can’t tell him about the images I saw. What if they mean nothing? Or worse, what if he tries to stop me from learning more?
