Perhaps I’m cursed.
Cursed?! Oh, hell, no! Not you, too, Aunt D.
Daisy tore off the sheets and threw them aside. She was fired up now.
May 1, 1926
Did I curse Nate’s marriage? Certainly not on purpose. Has it already ended? Yes. His lovely bride is gone, ran off to New Mexico with the neighbor.
So now we are both cursed.
He left town. I’ll probably never see him again.
It’s my own fault, of course. I let my fear stop me from being happy.
I cursed myself.
I cursed myself.
I cursed myself.
The words ran through Daisy’s head like a chant.
She had to get out of here. She knew exactly what she had to do. She knew how to end this curse once and for all. For herself and for Aunt Daisy, too.
She would have to be brave enough for both of them.
ChapterThirty-Three
Finding a soaking wet Daisy on his front step in the middle of the night was definitely not how Elliot saw his day ending. She’d dropped him off at his house a few times over the past few weeks, but she’d certainly never shown up in the middle of the night.
He’d just taken Goldie out to pee again, for the fourth time tonight, when he heard the knock.
‘Hi,’ she breathed when he opened the door, a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning lighting up her face in the darkness. Her eyes were huge, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks, but he couldn’t read her expression.
‘What’s wrong? What happened?’ Alarm bells were going off in Elliot’s body. Why was she here? Was she hurt, sad, scared? A million insane scenarios raced through his head. Luckily, Goldie had fallen back to sleep or she would have been barking like crazy, only adding to his fear.
‘Nothing’s wrong. I just… I need your help.’
‘Anything.’ He didn’t hesitate. He’d do anything she asked.
Her face split into a grin.
‘I know how to break the curse.’
‘Daisy, you’re not?—’
‘Just shut up and kiss me,’ she said, flinging herself at him, her arms coming around his neck. He hoisted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he backed them both into the house. He leaned against the closed door and her mouth found his, frantic and hungry. She kissed him like she might never get another chance. He let her, meeting her with his own breathless need, until she slowed down, her kisses becoming deep and languid. He pulled away just enough to ask again,
‘What’s going on?’
She kissed him again, a few small pecks on his lips, jaw, cheek, before unwinding herself from him.
‘I was reading the diary.’
He waited for her to go on, realizing she was still dripping wet and now she was shivering. Well, he couldn’t have that. Whatever she had to tell him could wait until she was dry and warm. He took her hand and led her to the bathroom, wrapping her in a towel. He hugged her close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms until she stopped shaking. She let her forehead fall against his.
She didn’t elaborate on what she’d read.
