I wanted to know what she was fighting.
“The place looks good,”Isaid asIlooked around the joint kitchen and living room. “Youmust’ve been cleaning the whole timeIwas on duty.”
Aurora lifted her hands in defense. “Ididn’t use the grill.Therearen’t any potential fires for you to put out, so you can go.”
“Aurora—”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“It’s your name.”
She rolled her eyes and cocked her hip, making her sleep shorts ride up just enough thatIcould make out the curve of her ass.
Damn . . .Thatass . . .
“I hate my name,” she clipped as she made a beeline for the ancient coffee maker that had been cleaned and shined to the best of her ability. “It’sobnoxious sounding.”
“You introduced yourself asAurora,”Isaid, defending myself.
“In my defense,Ithought you would have a normal reaction to being hit in the face with a dildo and leave me alone.Ididn’t think we’d have to readdress it.”Shecocked her head and assessed my cheek. “Nicebruise.”
“Thanks.Igot a lot of—uh—compliments from the guys at the station.”
Aurora snickered. “I’msorry it bruised.”
“But not sorry that you hit me?”
Her tone softened a touch. “Youwere trespassing.Youkind of deserved it.”
A piece of paper with empty boxes to check and a long list of repairs was sitting on the kitchen island. “Isthis your renovation list?”Iasked asIpicked it up and started perusing the tasks.
Aurora snatched it out of my hand. “Myrenovation list.Notyours.Nowtake your overbearing hospitality and get out of my house.Ihaven’t had my coffee yet, and you’re giving me a headache.”
6
AURORA
IF THE CLAWS FIT
The incessant buzzing and tap-tap-tapping hadn’t stopped sinceIorderedJackto leave.Ithad been hours, and the noise hadn’t let up once.
It was as if he was punishing me for wanting space.
Truth was,Iwasn’t ready for people yet.
I certainly wasn’t ready for a well-meaning but overbearing firefighter with a face made forHollywoodand kind eyes that cut me to the quick every time they met mine.
I wondered what he saw in my eyes.
Did he see me the way my mom did?Asthe misunderstood girl who had grown into an incomprehensible woman?Didhe see the broken author who couldn’t write another book and was destined for a life of obscurity and scraping by on dwindling royalties?Didhe see the shattered pieces of my heart, still clinging to my chest like falling stars?
Great.NowIwas just being dramatic.
I was fairly certainJackwas messing with the stairs, given the rumbling through the floor.Hehad directly disobeyed the explicit order to not work on them, but part of me was too tired to be bothered by it.
The other part of me wanted to pick a fight.
The front door was propped open in an attempt to air out the mustiness of the last twenty years.Itwas doing a mediocre job, thanks to the near-triple digits and salty sea humidity.Theupside was thatIcould storm right out to the deck and give him a piece of my mind.
