Ezra’s long, cool fingers curl around mine, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down my spine. He smiles like he’s well aware of the havoc he’s wreaking on my hormones, then releases me with that same smug ease and gestures toward the back of the shop.
“The tour won’t take long, but I’m particularly proud of the antique books section. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Ezra lightly places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the left, where a sign that reads “Rare & Antique Books” hangs.
Every time this man touches me, something in my body flares to life. And despite my earlier rage about his lack of boundaries, I want to feel his hands on my bare skin.
So, to distract myself from the filthy thoughts flitting through my mind, I ask him a question.
“Why did you name your shop after the Celtic god of dogs and healing? I would have chosen something to do with books or knowledge, or maybe imagination.”
Ezra halts mid-step, his gaze snapping to mine.
Be careful, Mr. Aster, your mask is slipping.
His lips part, just slightly, before pressing into a thin line as if he’s locking away whatever almost escaped.
“You know who Nodens is?” His voice is steady, but something flickers in those tempest-grey eyes. “Well, that’s a first,” he says smoothly, but the way his fingers tighten slightly at his sides?
Yeah, not so smooth.
“It’s an excellent question. And your suggestions, although fitting, are predictable. I, my dear, am anything but.”
No shit.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a straightforward answer for you. I have a special bond with dogs and have a firm belief that stories carry the power to heal one’s soul. Because Nodens represents both, I felt it was an appropriate name.”
He pauses there before he adds, “Although Nodens was a complete drunken brute who treated animals poorly and women even worse. It makes sense that Lovecraft would worship him. Wretched men cling to wretched idols. The lesser god never deserved the power he had.”
I laugh softly, earning me a tilt of Ezra’s head and a sharp frown.
Is he really confused by my reaction? He just spoke like he knew Nodens personally. And the fact that he casually dragged Lovecraft in the same breath is … annoyingly attractive.
Ezra hums, the sound edged with disapproval, then turns on his heels and walks away from me.
“Okay …” I mutter to myself while I rush after him.
The back of the shop is dim. I’m assuming it’s dark to keep the older books in good condition.
Shadows play along the wall as we walk, and my imagination runs wild with visions of woodland animals happily playing within the dark tendrils. My steps slow as I watch them frolic—ears twitching, tails curling, paws stepping in time with mine.
This … isn’t real.
“Is something wrong, Aurora?”
Ezra’s voice is closer than I expected. He’s returned to my side, his head tilted ever so slightly. Watching. Waiting. His gaze flickers, first to me, then to the wall I’m staring at like an idiot.
The corner of his mouth twitches. Just barely.
“Um …”
Where the hell do I start? The truth is absurd, and Ezra doesn’t seem like the type who would entertain the notion of dancing animal shadows.
“No, I’m fine. Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts again.”
I refuse to show any weakness in front of this man. Especially after this morning.
And honestly, with everything I’ve experienced in the past day, I don’t even trust myself right now.
