“Yeah,” she admitted. “Weusually only see each other a few times a year at book signings or industry events, but now . . .”
“You won’t be at those,”Ifinished for her when she couldn’t get the words out herself.
“Yeah,” she croaked.
“Look, about the other day at my place?—”
“It’s forgotten,” she said quickly. “Truce?”
But it wasn’t forgotten.Noteven close.Noway wouldIforget the way she felt beneath me.Noway wouldIforget the feel of her body in my hands.Theway she tasted.Theway she breathed my name and tightened around me, trusting me to carry her while we leaped off that cliff of ecstasy together.
No way wouldIforget the anger and hurt in her eyes whenIhad put a hard stop to the moment becauseIwas a selfish bastard.
I didn’t know what had possessed me that night.Therewas something aboutAurorathat called to me like a siren, drawing me out to sea.
I knew the end only had one outcome.Partof me was ready and willing to drown in her, even thoughIknewI’dnever come back from it.
“Don’t forget it,”Isaid, moving closer to cup her cheek. “I’msorryIpushed.Iwas out of line, andIowe you an apology.I’msorry.”
Her cheeks flushed like a sailor’s sunset. “LikeIsaid?—”
“No,”Iclipped, swiping my thumb across her lips. “Don’tforget it, becauseI’mnot forgetting.Idon’t want to forget.”
“Jack . . .”Thebreath that carried my name was my damnation.Aurora’seyes closed as she leaned into my hand. “Ican’t do this.”
“I’m not asking you for anything right now,Roar.Wedon’t have to explore anything if you don’t want to.ButIwill take every chanceIcan find to remind you how good that kiss was.”Ileaned in, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear. “Becauseit’s allIcan think about.”
Her swallow was audible, even asIbacked away.
Aurora ran a hand through her hair and let out a sharp breath. “Wefound another letter.Well,Whitneydid.”
“No shit?”
She nodded. “Therewas a brick in the fireplace with the same stamp that was branded into the floor.Whitnoticed it was loose and pulled it out.Theletter was inside the brick.”
“Was it from the same person as the one we found in the floor?”
“No.Thatwas the weird thing.Theone we found in the fireplace talks about theSalemWitchTrialsin the present, which means it has to be from a hundred years before the floor letter.”
I could see the wheels spinning as she worked the problem over and over in her mind.
“What are you thinking,Roar?”
She sighed. “Idon’t know.Whitneydoesn’t think it’s a letter at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“She thinks it’s a manuscript.Withsome of the formatting and style choices, it makes more sense than it being a personal letter.”
A reckless piece of hair danced in the wind and tickled her nose.Ilooped it around my finger and tucked it behind her ear. “Andwhat do you think?”
She let out a sharp sigh. “IthinkIdon’t have time to go on a wild goose chase, andIshould stick to painting and ripping up molding.”Auroratugged her phone out of her back pocket and glanced at the time. “I’vegotta get back.Ihired a roofing company becauseI’mnot falling to my death by trying toDIYpatch the holes up there.”
“Smart girl,”Isaid asItrailed my finger down the graceful slope of her throat. “It’dbe a shame if you broke this pretty neck.”
Aurora chewed on her lip. “Areyou off in the morning?”
“Yeah.I’llbe over.Sametime as usual.”
