“Wait,” he says, and before I know what’s happening, his arm has snaked around my waist, his eyes still on my mouth. In one swift move his lips find mine in a searing kiss—a single firework in the sky that explodes and then falls away. It’s over before I can even respond, and he looks down at me again. “Call it a down payment,” he breathes roughly.
I blink up at him in dazed surprise. “I’m wearing lipstick.”
He shrugs. “Red looks good on me.” He pauses, his arm tightening around me for a second, and then he lets go, stepping back. “Glare extra hard at anyone else who tries to bid on you, please.”
I raise my eyebrows at him, and he shrugs.
“I don’t like to share,” he says, unrepentant and unabashed. Then he points at my face, at my narrowing eyes. “Yep. That one. The glare that’s hot but also sort of scary. Do that one.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, but I’m pressing my lips together mostly so I won’t smile at his ridiculous teasing—or at his kiss.
ROMAN
If I didn’t vaguely recognizeAurora’s sisters from the night in the holding cell, I’d recognize them through their resemblance to Aurora herself.
Aurora, that goddess I got to kiss twenty minutes ago, and my lips are still tingling, and my heart is trying to burst out of my chest with vivid excitement because she ismine.
I don’t have to watch her from the sidelines or avoid her until I move on or, worse still, see her with someone else.
I’ve never dated such a bold, single-minded woman—although to be fair, I haven’t dated muchperiod—and I can’t wait to hold all her messiness in my arms. Because apparently once I’m in, I’m all in.
Who knew? Not me. But I can feel that desire in my chest, to keep her close and unwrap every layer and examine every puzzle piece.
Those things are going to have to wait, unfortunately. The town square is filling rapidly with people, mostly thirties and forties, I’d say, with outliers in either direction. Everyone is dressed nicely, although that looks different on different people; still, it’s a relief when I see a blonde and a redhead looking around from the other side, their eyes narrowed in concentration.
The blonde catches my eye first, mostly because her hair is the same shade as Aurora’s. I don’t recall if she’s Juliet or India—I think those are the names—but the way she and the redhead whisper together puts me unshakably in mind of sisters.
They seem familiar enough to me that I decide they’re my best bet. So I weave through the square, around the mingling people and fancy tables and soft lights. When my eyes meet those of the redhead, she nudges the blonde, and I know I’ve found the right women.
“Hi,” the blonde says when I reach them. Her voice is bright, and she eyes me with apparent interest. So does the redhead, but she remains silent, and she looks more skeptical than her sister.
“Hi,” I say.
“You’re Roman. Right?”
I straighten in relief. “Yes.”
“And you’re here for Aurora.” It’s not a question, and the blonde girl’s eyes sparkle knowingly.
“That’s correct.”
She continues to look me over swiftly, tilting her head so that her blonde ponytail tilts to one side, and then she nods.
“For the record,” she says, “I like you.”
“I’m very likable,” I say.
The one with red hair, however, crinkles her brow with skepticism. “I’m still on the fence,” she says.
“Fences are nice too,” I say. Then, when neither of them respond, I say, “So…”
The redhead nods. “Right. I’m India, and this is Jules”—Jules gives me a little wave—“and we’re here to make sure this auction goes smoothly.”
“Aurora is a babe,” Juliet says conversationally. “And we joked with her about pooling our money to bid on her, but India and I decided we should actually do it if anyone sketchy pops up.”
I glance around the square, my eyes zeroing in on the people taking tickets. “Did you register?”
“No,” India says, looking unconcerned. “Jess let us in through the back door of the bookshop.”
